When the frosty* bridge of magpie feather comes into sight, the night is nearly past.
かささぎの | kasasagi no |
渡せる橋に | wataseru hashi ni |
おく霜の | oku shimo no |
白きを見れば | shiroki wo mireba |
夜ぞふけにける | yo zo fukenikeru |
Middle Counselor Yakamochi
Ōtomo no Yakamochi 大伴家持 (718?−785) was a Nara period (奈良時代 Nara jidai; 710−784) poet and is considered the final editor of Man’yōshū 万葉集 (Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves; finished around 759). But he was not a court poet and his life was turbulent, and his career − far from straightforward.
Yakamochi was born in Nara 奈良, but spent his early years in Dazaifu 大宰府, where his father Ōtomo no Tabito 大伴旅人 (665−731) was stationed. In Dazaifu, Yakamochi was witness to the lively Dazaifu poetic circle, in which his father Tabito, as well as a famous sinologist poet Yamanoue no Okura 山上憶良 (660−733), participated. Poems from this particular poetic circle came into renewed prominence in 2019, when Reiwa 令和, the new era name (年号 nengō), was taken from the Man'yōshū headnote to spring poems of this circle.
The Dazaifu poetic circle was one of the early influences to Yakamochi’s poetry, but his greatest influence came after the winter of 730, when his father Tabito was promoted to Major Counselor (大納言 dainagon) and the family moved back to Nara. Only a year later Tabito passed away, and for a time Yakamochi’s aunt, Man’yōshū poetess Lady Ōtomo no Sakanoue (大伴坂上郎女 Ōtomo no Sakanoue no Iratsume; dates uncertain) acted as his guardian and possibly even as head of the Ōtomo 大伴 clan. Her poetic influence is clear in Yakamochi’s earliest poetry.
Yakamochi composed throughout his stormy life and his most prolific years came between the turmoils of his career. In 737, during the reign of Emperor Shōmu (聖武天皇 Shōmu tennō; 701−759, reigned 724−749), Yakamochi started service in court and it took him until 783 − already in the reign of Emperor Kanmu (桓武天皇 Kanmu tennō; 737−806; reigned 781−806), four reigns after starting court service, − to reach the position of Middle Counselor (中納言 chūnagon).
Yakamochi’s family was not of the highest influence, he was involved in many plots, and often was often stationed away from the capital. Between 746 and 751 he served as the Governor of Etchū 越中 (present-day Toyama 富山 prefecture) and those years are considered his most prolific as a poet. In 751, early in the reign of Empress Kōken (孝謙天皇 Kōken tennō; 718−770; reigned 749−758), he came back to Nara and was appointed Junior Counselor (小納言 shōnagon), but in 758, after a failed rebellion by close political allies in Tachibana 橘 clan, Yakamochi was appointed Governor of Inaba 因幡 (present-day Tottori 鳥取 prefecture). Yakamochi distanced himself from the rebellion and that spared his life, but the appointment to Inaba was nonetheless a step down from his earlier positions.
It was in Inaba where he composed the final Man’yōshū poem, − a celebratory composition, welcoming the new year that was 759 (Man’yōshū 4516). At the time, it was already the reign of Emperor Junnin (淳仁天皇 Junnin tennō; 733−765; reigned 758−764), and it is believed that around this time Yakamochi finished editing Man’yōshū.
By 762 Yakamochi was back in Nara but involvement in another failed plot saw him appointed Governor of Satsuma 薩摩 (western part of present-day Kagoshima 鹿児島 prefecture). The second reign of Empres Kōken, this time as Empress Shōtoku (称徳天皇 Shōtoku tennō; reigned 764−770) came and went, and it was in the first year of the reign of Emperor Kōnin (光仁天皇 Kōnin tennō; 709−781; reigned 770−781) when Yakamochi came back into favour, came back to the capital and started rising in rank. By 781 he reached the Junior Third Rank (従三位 ju sanmi), and in 783, already under Emperor Kanmu, − his highest career position of Middle Counselor.
Yakamochi died on the 10th Lunar month of 785, but even then, he did not immediately find peace. After Kanmu’s brother, Imperial Prince Sawara (早良親王 Sawara shinnō; 750?−785) was implicated in the assassination of a high-ranking official, Yakamochi, as his servant, was stripped of rank, his estate and property confiscated. He was only pardoned posthumously in 806.
The confiscated property of Yakamochi, however, is believed to have included the finished Man’yōshū manuscript, in which case the unfortunate events after Yakamochi’s death may have contributed to the survival of his editorial work in the form of the oldest collection of Japanese poetry.
The last four books of Man’yōshū are diary-like record of poetry by Yakamochi and his circle. In the collection he is represented by 46 chōka長歌 (long poems), 392 tanka 短歌(short poems) and one sedōka 旋頭歌 (“head-repeated poem”, written in 5-7-7-5-7-7 format). 62 of his poems are also included in imperial collections starting with Shūishū 拾遺集 (Collection of Gleanings, 1005–1007), and he is one of Fujiwara no Kintō’s 藤原公任 (966–1041; Hyakunin Isshu 55) Thirty Six Poetic Immortals (三十六歌仙 Sanjūrokkasen).
The prolific output left by Yakamochi leads us to believe that a good number of Yakamochi’s poems could have been considered for inclusion to collections such as the Hyakunin Isshu. The case of Hyakunin Isshu poem under Yakamochi’s name, however, requires an inquiring look.
The frosty Bridge of Magpie Wings
Ōtomo no Yakamochi’s composition in the Hyakunin Isshu was selected as a winter poem for Shinkokinshū 新古今集 (New Collection of Poems Ancient and Modern; officially presented in 1205, finished around 1216) and Fujiwara no Teika 藤原定家 (1162−1241; Hyakunin Isshu 97), who is credited with selecting the Hyakunin Isshu poems, was one of the editors who suggested this poem for inclusion.
As Man’yōshū was not an imperial collection, many Shinkokinshū poems from the oldest times were selected directly from Man’yōshū, but this particular poem under Yakamochi’s name was not one of such works and no versions of Man’yōshū include the poem. Instead, this poem came from Yakamochi Shū 家持集 (Collected Poems of Yakamochi) − a personal collection, which was compiled after Yakamochi’s death and thus not entirely trustworthy. What is more, the central motif of the poem − Bridge of Magpies − is not found in any Man’yōshū poem, leading theories that the poem could be a later composition. (Or could it have been a trailblazing composition?)
Not only the authorship, but also the interpretations of the poem have long been a topic of debate. There is no agreement whether the poem refers to the Tanabata 七夕 legend, when the Bridge of Magpies connects the two sides of Milky Way or the River of Heaven (天の川 Ama no gawa), allowing the Ox Herd and the Weaver Maid to meet; or to the bridges and stairs leading to the palace, which according to Yamato Monogatari 大和物語 (Tales of Yamato) were known as as the Bridge of Magpies by early Heian period (平安時代 Heian jidai; 794−1192). Modern interpretations do not choose a single reading and see the poem as likening the palace bridges to the bridge across the river of heavens, which a very plausible reading. But whichever way we choose to interpret the poem, we can read it visually, and as such it is an exquisite depiction of a winter night, which, the poet realises, has far advanced.
The imagery of this poem is condensed into the first four lines, with the fifth and final line bringing a sort of conclusion, when the poet realises that indeed, the night has deepened (yo zo fukenikeru). In its first two lines the poem introduces the bridge (hashi) that magpies (kasasagi) had laid (wataseru), which can be rendered into the Bridge of Magpies. The deep connection of this image to the Tanabata legend points towards the sky, where the cold darkness of a winter night brings out the glimmering stars. And it may well be that the stars are likened to white frost upon the Bridge of Magpies in the sky, but it can also point the gaze down from the skies and towards the palace bridges, upon which, in the cold of winter night, white frost would settle. And just like that, when seeing (mireba) the whiteness (shiroki) of frost (shimo) on the Bridge of Magpie Wings, the poet realises the night has grown late.
When I see
the whiteness of
frost upon the
Bridge of Magpie Wings,
ah indeed, the night has deepened.
Winter nights are at their darkest and coldest before the dawn, and as the night deepens, the dawn nears. At the end of this strange year, may this old, simple yet heavenly image of white glimmer deep in the night bring hope of the dawn already near.
Notes
* As shimo means frost, I took the liberty to change misty of the original subtitles translation into frosty.