Hyakunin Isshu (One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each): Poem 48 (Minamoto no Shigeyuki)

Hyakunin Isshu, Poem 48

Translation and comments by Ad Blankestijn
(version September 2022)


waves dashed on the rocks
by the fierce wind -
I alone am the one
who breaks
when longing for her!

kaze o itami
iwa utsu nami no
onore nomi
kudakete mono o
omou koro kana

風をいたみ
岩うつ波の
おのれのみ
くだけて物を
おもふ頃かな

Minamoto no Shigeyuki 源重之 (d. 1001)


 

The poem compares a heartless woman to a rock that remains unmoved when the wind dashes a wave (the poet) against it. The first two lines of the poem are a preface (jokotoba) containing a scene from nature which is set-off against the poet's feelings.

According to a note, this poem was part of a "100 poem sequence" (hyakushu) "written during the time when Emperor Reizei was still crown prince" (that was from 950 to 967). Shigeyuki's "100 poem sequence" is one of the earliest examples of a genre that became very popular in the late Heian period (12th c.). 

Notes

• kaze wo itami: literally "because the wind is fierce" (...wo...mi = ...ga...na node)
• iwa: the poet's lover is compared to an unfeeling rock
• kudakete: both a pivot word and a pun, for the waves crashing on the rocks and the poet's shattered feelings.
• kana: indicates an exclamation
  

[Shigeyuki by Kano Yasunobu]

The poet

About Minamoto no Shigeyuki we only know that year of his death, 1001. He worked in the provincial bureaucracy. A great-grandson of Emperor Seiwa, he was an associate of Kanemori (Poem 40) and Sanekata (Poem 51). His personal poetry collection survives and he has 67 poems in imperial anthologies.

References: Pictures of the Heart, The Hyakunin Isshu in Word and Image by Joshua S. Mostow (University of Hawai'i Press, 1996); One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each, by Peter MacMIllan (Penguin Classics); Traditional Japanese Poetry, An Anthology, by Steven D. Carter (Stanford University Press, 1991); Hyakunin Isshu by Inoue Muneo, etc. (Shinchosha, 1990); Genshoku Hyakunin Isshu by Suzuki Hideo, etc. (Buneido, 1997); Chishiki Zero kara no Hyakunin Isshu, by Ariyoshi Tamotsu (Gentosha); Hyakunin Isshu Kaibo Zukan, by Tani Tomoko (X-Knowledge);  Ogura Hyakunin Isshu at Japanese Text Initiative (University of Virginia Library Etext Center); Hyakunin Isshu wo aruku by Shimaoka Shin (Kofusha Shuppan); Hyakunin Isshu, Ocho waka kara chusei waka e by Inoue Muneo (Chikuma Shoin, 2004); Basho's Haiku (2 vols) by Toshiharu Oseko (Maruzen, 1990); The Ise Stories by Joshua S. Mostow and Royall Tyler (University of Hawai'i Press, 2010); Kokin Wakashu, The First Imperial Anthology of Japanese Poetry by Helen Craig McCullough (Stanford University Press, 1985); Kokinshu, A Collection of Poems Ancient and Modern by Laurel Rasplica Rodd and Mary Catherine Henkenius (University of Tokyo Press, 1984); Kokin Wakashu (Shogakkan, 1994); Shinkokin Wakashu (Shogakkan, 1995); Taketori Monogatari-Ise Monogatari-Yamato Monogatari-Heichu Monogatari (Shogakkan, 1994).


Photo of waves and rocks my own work (taken at Enoshima); the portrait of Kano Yasunobu is from Wikimedia Commons.

Hyakunin Isshu Index

The Lerouge Case (1866) by Émile Gaboriau

Detective stories were in the air in the 1860s. In 1861 Mary Elizabeth Braddon wrote The Trail of the Serpent, and in 1868 The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins would follow; in between, we have the French police procedural The Lerouge Case by Émile Gaboriau. Of course, these early novels are not "whodunits" - we often know early on who the criminal is and the aim of the story is to show how he is caught by a shrewd detective. The influence of the "sensation novel," one of the major genres in this period, is also strong - we therefore find countless plots about intricate family problems (illegitimate sons, struggles about inheritance).

That is all old hat since more than a century, but when a story is well-told and has interesting characters, it still rewards reading. The interest of The Lerouge Case lies in the miscarriage of justice which almost succeeds. An amateur detective (Tabaret) helping the investigating magistrate (Daburon) thinks he has the solution, but he has devised a story in his head which fits the facts, but for which there is no proof.

Here is Tabaret:

A man appeared at the door, whose aspect it must be admitted was not at all what one would have expected of a person who had joined the police for honour alone. He was certainly sixty years old and did not look a bit younger. Short, thin, and rather bent, he leant on the carved ivory handle of a stout cane. His round face wore that expression of perpetual astonishment, mingled with uneasiness... His eyes of a dull gray, were small and red at the lids, and absolutely void of expression; yet they fatigued the observer by their insupportable restlessness. A few straight hairs shaded his forehead, which receded like that of a greyhound, and through their scantiness barely concealed his long ugly ears. He was very comfortably dressed, clean as a new franc piece, displaying linen of dazzling whiteness, and wearing silk gloves and leather gaiters. A long and massive gold chain, very vulgar-looking, was twisted thrice round his neck, and fell in cascades into the pocket of his waistcoat.

The investigating magistrate goes along with him, because he has his own hidden reasons - the accused is the fiance of the woman he loves himself.

M. Daburon was a man thirty-eight years of age, and of prepossessing appearance; sympathetic notwithstanding his coldness; wearing upon his countenance a sweet, and rather sad expression. This settled melancholy had remained with him ever since his recovery, two years before, from a dreadful malady, which had well-nigh proved fatal.

Investigating magistrate since 1859, he had rapidly acquired the most brilliant reputation. Laborious, patient, and acute, he knew with singular skill how to disentangle the skein of the most complicated affair, and from the midst of a thousand threads lay hold to the right one. None better than he, armed with an implacable logic, could solve those terrible problems in which X—in algebra, the unknown quantity—represents the criminal. Clever in deducing the unknown from the known, he excelled in collecting facts, and in uniting in a bundle of overwhelming proofs circumstances the most trifling, and in appearance the most insignificant.

Although possessed of qualifications for his office so numerous and valuable, he was tremblingly distrustful of his own abilities and exercised his terrible functions with diffidence and hesitation. He wanted audacity to risk those sudden surprises so often resorted to by his colleagues in the pursuit of truth.

Finally another policeman (Gévrol), doing the hard work of checking out leads, finds a crucial witness. As a result, the case is solved, and both magistrate and amateur detective, who were both so wrong, give up this type of work.

The story is told in a well-balanced way - neither too long nor too short, the characterization is good, and there is no unnecessary humor or frivolity (as sometimes is the case in the 19th c.).

Great Poetry Around the World (93): From The Gardener by Rabindranath Tagore (India, 1912)

The Gardener

Rabindranath Tagore

 

71

 The day is not yet done, the fair is not over, the fair on the
   river-bank.
 I had feared that my time had been squandered and my last penny
   lost.
 But no, my brother, I have still something left.  My fate has not
   cheated me of everything.

 The selling and buying are over.
 All the dues on both sides have been gathered in, and it is time
   for me to go home.
 But, gatekeeper, do you ask for your toll?
 Do not fear, I have still something left.  My fate has not
   cheated me of everything.

 The lull in the wind threatens storm, and the lowering clouds in
   the west bode no good.
 The hushed water waits for the wind.
 I hurry to cross the river before the night overtakes me.
 O ferryman, you want your fee!
 Yes, brother, I have still something left.  My fate has not
   cheated me of everything.

 In the wayside under the tree sits the beggar.  Alas, he looks at
   my face with a timid hope!
 He thinks I am rich with the day's profit.
 Yes, brother, I have still something left.  My fate has not
   cheated me of everything.

 The night grows dark and the road lonely.  Fireflies gleam among
   the leaves.
 Who are you that follow me with stealthy silent steps?
 Ah, I know, it is your desire to rob me of all my gains.  I will
   not disappoint you!
 For I still have something left, and my fate has not cheated me
   of everything.

 At midnight I reach home.  My hands are empty.
 You are waiting with anxious eyes at my door, sleepless and
   silent.
 Like a timorous bird you fly to my breast with eager love.
 Ay, ay, my God, much remains still.  My fate has not cheated me
   of everything.
 

 

[Rabindranath Tagore]

Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) was an Indian (Bengali) poet, novelist, playwright, philosopher and mystic, who became the first Indian winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913. He was born during the British colonial rule of India into a wealthy Brahmin family living in Calcutta. Tagore was also active as a social reformer and educator. In 1901 he founded the Santi-Niketan School in Bolpur, 180 km from Calcutta, which later developed into a university. In his writing about social and political topics, Tagore consciously sought after a harmonious connection between Western and Eastern philosophies, religions and cultures. He played an important part in the liberation of India and his name is associated with that of Gandhi.

Tagore wrote mainly in Bengali and created a kind of literature closer to spoken Bengali than had ever been written before. He translated many of his works into English himself. His work expresses great knowledge of both Western and Indian culture. He preached neither asceticism nor yoga, but a joyful and loving absorption into God in daily life.

Lecturing in different countries, he often visited Europe and America, especially after being awarded the Nobel Prize. His works include a tragedy entitled The King of the Dark Chamber (1910) and several novels, Gora (1908) being considered by some to be more important than Rudyard Kipling's portrayal of Indian life in Kim. However, Tagore remains best known as the poet of the Gitanjali (1909), whose own translations received great admiration. He wrote lyrical poetry (The Gardener, 1914) - in which he was the strongest – as well as several dramas with a philosophical meaning (Chitra, 1914), and numerous stories. In 1950 his poem “Jana Gana Mana” (“Lord of the heart of the people”) became the national anthem of India.

In addition to literary work, Tagore also wrote non-fiction about religious) philosophy, including The Religion of Man, a series of lectures he gave at the University of Oxford in May 1930. In it he dealt with universal themes such as God, divine experience, enlightenment and spirituality. A short conversation between him and Albert Einstein, "Note on the Nature of Reality", is included as an attachment.

Here is the first poem of his Gitanjali:

Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.

This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.

At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.

Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.

 

Rabindranth Tagore’s work is in the public domain. The Gardener has been quoted from Gutenberg.org.   

Photo Tagore: Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Haiku Travels (31): Basho and Mukojima-Hyakkaen Garden (Tokyo)

Haiku Travels

Mukojima-Hyakkaen Garden (Tokyo)

it is looking

a bit like spring:

moon and plum

haru mo yaya| keshiki totonou | tsuki to ume

春もやや気色ととのふ月と梅

Basho

[Hyakkaen Garden]

Seen from the city, Higashi-Mukojima, the site of the Hyakkaen Garden, lies on the opposite bank of the Sumida River, something which is also expressed in the name 'Mukojima,' which means 'Yonder Isle,' or 'Island on the Other Side of the Sumida.' The garden was laid out on fertile land along the river's bank. It used to be an idyllic land of farming villages, vegetable gardens and paddy fields. Shogun Yoshimune (1684-1751) planted cherry trees along the embankment of the Sumida and turned Mukojima into a favorite pleasure resort, where city crowds flocked in spring. It was after all only a short ferry ride away from Asakusa with its popular Kannon temple.

But in the first half of the twentieth century the city expanded and the transformation from agriculture to industry was particularly rapid here. To provide an outlet for the workers, supposedly, one of Tokyo's most rough red-light districts, the Tamanoi, was established. Nagai Kafu has given an extensive description of it in his novel A Strange Tale from East of the River. But that phenomenon has passed, too: both the oldest trade in the world and modern factories have left, and now the area consists of small shops, small houses and huge apartments. It is a bit boring and looks the same as other areas east of the river. Even the somewhat notorious name 'Tamanoi' has been erased: the Tobu line station of that designation has been renamed 'Higashi-Mukojima.' Only where small private homes still remain can the visitor get a whiff of the atmosphere of old Tokyo thanks to the many potted plants in front of the houses. And of course we have Hyakkaen, the Garden of a Hundred Flowers...

[Haiku stone with the first haiku]

This 'Garden of a Hundred Flowers' was established in 1804 by a retired antique dealer from Nihonbashi, Sawara Kiku. It has none of the formal characteristics of Edo's daimyo gardens, to which it forms a refreshing contrast. The garden was the hobby of Kiku and his literati fiends, among whom we find the famous artists Tani Buncho and Sakai Hoitsu, but also a writer of comic verse and a Confucian philosopher. He asked them to donate plum trees and managed to assemble 360 of them. So the original garden had the character of a plum garden - after all, the plum was the symbol of the gentleman also in ancient China (it is refined and unobtrusive compared to the vulgar cherry blossoms and shows its strength by putting out flowers in February when it can still be bitingly cold).

Soon also other plants with classical associations were added, such as the Seven Herbs of Spring (for example dropwort, shepherd's purse and radish; these herbs were eaten in rice gruel for good health) and the Seven Herbs of Autumn (bush clover, eulalia and balloonflowers to mention a few; these were all decorative). In fact, we now find the whole range of Japanese flora, from pines to plums, wisteria to bush clover, and irises to hydrangeas. Kiku's friends also engaged their literary talents in a more direct way by setting up numerous stone steles engraved with haiku and tanka poems. They would gather in the garden to view the full harvest moon or listen to the chirping insects of late summer. The Garden of a Hundred Flowers became one of the major plum and flower viewing spots of old Edo and people touring the Sumida-area would often pay a visit.

Kiku also possessed a small ceramic statue of Fukurojin, one of the so-called Seven Deities of Good Fortune. This led him to search out the other six in shrines and temples in the neighborhood and set up a small pilgrimage course. This mini-pilgrimage, the Sumida River circuit of the Seven Deities of Good Fortune, is undertaken in the first week of January. Nowadays, Seven Deities of Good Fortune (Shichi Fukujin) tours are more popular than ever and one finds them everywhere in Japan. It is a nice New Year-custom.

[Entrance to Hyakkaen Garden]

Famous among the more than thirty stones in the garden are a stele describing the history of the garden as well as a stone on which a painting of bamboo has been incised. I also find two Basho haiku stones here; you'll find the first haiku at the top of this page. Although Basho also lived on the left bank of the Sumida, in his time the garden did not exist yet, so this stone does not commemorate the place where he wrote the poem (that is against my usual policy in this haiku series, but I have included Mukojima-Hyakkaen as it is a great destination thanks to its haiku atmosphere.

The haiku sings of the start of spring after the long winter. Under the moon, which is enveloped in a haze, the plum trees put forth the first blossoms, giving the poet the feeling that spring has finally arrived. A fitting haiku for a plum garden! Basho seems to have inscribed the poem on paintings of plum blossoms and the moon, and it is not difficult to imagine a traditional Japanese painting when you read these lines. The haiku stone was erected in 1836.

[Tunnel formed by bushclover]

Here is the second haiku by Basho represented in Mukojima-Hyakkaen:

a few slices of
konnyaku and
plum blossoms

konnyaku no | sashimi mo sukoshi | ume no hana


Another haiku about plum blossoms, this time unexpectedly paired with konnyaku. Konnyaku is a 'bulbous perennial herb' that has been cultivated in Japan since ancient times. A jelly-like food is derived from the bulb. It is rich in dietary fiber but has no calories and is therefore a perfect health food. Basho was very fond of it. It can be prepared in various forms, one of them thinly sliced as if it were raw fish. This is the sashimi-konnyaku Basho is referring to in this haiku, a staple of the vegetarian kitchen in the Kansai.

According to an accompanying note, Basho sent this poem to his disciple Kyorai, the Master of Persimmons of the Rakushisha hermitage to the west of Kyoto. Apparently, Kyorai had suffered a bereavement and Basho wrote this poem to console him. The haiku stone in Hyakkaen dates from 1814.

Mukojima Hyakkaen is small and attractive. As there are not so many high-rises yet in these surroundings, the view of nature is not marred by concrete colossuses. The garden is quiet and the few visitors seem of a literary bend. Some are slowly taking aim at the flowers with intricate cameras, while others go around reading the texts on the many stone steles that stand along the meandering paths. In September, flowering bushclovers create a veritable tunnel...

Address: 3-18-3 Higashi-Mukojima, Sumida-ku, Tokyo.
Tel. 03-3611-8705
Access: 8-min. walk from Higashi-Mukojima station on the Tobu Isezaki line or a 13-min. walk from Hikifune station on the Keisei Oshiage line.
English Website

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