One Thousand Summers

The poem is included in Fujiwara no Teika’s  藤原定家  (1162–1241) personal collection  Shūi Gusō  拾遺愚草 (Gleanings of Worthless Weeds), where it is found among the  twenty poems ordered by the Retired Emperor on the twelfth month of the second year (1212) of Kenryaku 建暦 (1211–1213) , as one of  five poems on miscellaneous topics :

When winds blow oak leaves in the twilight, the only sign of summer is the ritual purification in the waters.

Minister of the Right, who rebuilt the ruins of Former Middle Counselor Teika’s house in Saga, would sometimes go there and on twentieth of eight month, on death anniversary of Lord Teika, he ordered Buddhist services and invited to compose poems. Recalling autumn...

"Taichiro hailed a taxi in front of the tea house, and Keiko got in with him. He remained silent as they drove across the city out to the Nisonin Temple in Saga. Keiko was silent too, except for asking if she could open the window all the way. But she  p ut her hand on his, fondling it gently with her index finger. Her smooth hand was a little damp. The main gate of the Nisonin Temple was said to have been brought from Hideyoshi’s Fushimi Castle in the early seventeenth century. It had the imposing air of a great castle gate. Keiko remarked that they seemed to be in for another hot day. ‘This is my first time here,’ she said. ‘I’ve done a little research on Fujiwara Teika,’ Taichiro told her. As he climbed the stone steps to the gate he looked around and saw the hem of her kimono rippling as she followed nimbly after him. ‘We know Teika had a villa on Mt Ogura called the “Pavilion of the Autumn Rain”, but people claim three different sites for it. You can’t tell which it really wa

Although I never knew the ways of letters, Buddhist Novice (Renshō) has carefully insisted that I write the poem cartouches  for sliding doors of Saga Chūin. Even though they are awfully unsightly, written half-heartedly, I am sending them away. From the ancient times, a poem from every poet, from Emperor Tenji ( 1 )  to Ietaka ( 2 )  and Masatsune ( 3 ) .

Composed as one of fifty poems on flowers at the house of Goky ōgoku Regent

As I wait for someone who will never come, my body burns like the seaweed drying on the shores of Matsuho.

In poetry there are no teachers. One makes antiquity one’s teacher. Provided he steep his mind in the styles of antiquity and learn his diction from the great poets of old, who can fail to compose good poetry?   − Fujiwara no Teika, Eiga no taigai  詠歌大概 ( Essentials of Poetic Composition)  As quoted in Conversations with Shōtetsu , translated by Robert Brower