Fujiwara no Teika
Eight Poems
translated by Ad Blankestijn
[Suma Beach, Kobe, at dusk]
(1)
SKKS 363
when I look far away
there are no cherry blossoms
and no colored leaves
a thatched hut on the shore
in the twilight of the fall
miwataseba | hana mo momiji mo | nakarikeri | ura no tomoya no | aki no yugure
見渡せば花も紅葉もなかりけり浦の苫屋の秋の夕暮れ
This poem expresses the essence of wabi and sabi, and is one of the earliest to do so. "Sabi" is related to the modern "sabishii," "solitude," and also to "sabi," "rust. Wabi comes from the verb "wabu," "to languish," and the adjective "wabishii," "lonely," showing that these terms overlap in part.
Sabi was used to suggest an unobtrusive, unassertive type of beauty, a lonely beauty that became prominent from this time on, and it also contains elements of old age, resignation, and tranquility. Fujiwara no Shunzei, Teika's father and a great poet and poetry judge, was the first to use "sabi" in literary criticism, emphasizing its connotations of loneliness and desolation and pointing to such images as frost-withered reeds by the sea. Underlying this cold type of beauty was the medieval Buddhist worldview, which recognized the existential loneliness of all living beings and counseled resignation to it.
Wabi emphasizes a simple, austere type of beauty and a serene, transcendental state of mind. Originally used to describe the pain of a person who had fallen into adverse circumstances, in the Middle Ages it evolved into a more positive concept, making poverty and loneliness synonymous with liberation from material and emotional worries, and transforming the absence of beauty into a new and higher beauty.
Both concepts later became central to the tea ceremony, as tea masters sought to elevate their art by emphasizing the importance of seeking richness in poverty and beauty in simplicity.
The poet doesn't seek the "noisy" beauty and splendor of blossoming cherries, nor the rich autumn brocade of maple leaves, but finds beauty in the silence and solitude of an autumn evening, with only a simple thatched hut on a desolate shore.
(2)
SKKS 38
as the spring night's
floating bridge of dreams
collapses
a bank of clouds in the sky
drifts away from the summit
haru no yo no | yume no uki hashi | todaeshite | mine ni wakaruru | yokogumo no sora
春の夜の夢の浮橋とだえして峰にわかるる横雲の空
Although this poem gives a majestic description of nature and seems to be about the seasons, it is actually a love poem. As Donald Keene says (Seeds in the Heart, p. 660), "The poet awakes at dawn from a dream. We are not told the content of the dream, but the tone of the poem strongly suggests that it was romantic. Awakening, he feels a poignant sense of separation (perhaps from a woman he met in the dream), and when he looks outside, he sees in the dawn sky a bank of clouds separating from the peak, an echo in nature of his own experience." Keene goes on to point out that elsewhere in the literature of the time, the phrase "floating bridge of dreams" had overtones of an important event coming to an end, causing the writer to reflect on the transience of the world. It is also the name of the last chapter in The Tale of Genji, in which Kaoru and Ukifune are separated forever - and the title of the modern story written by Tanizaki Junichiro using motifs from The Tale of Genji.
Teika's poem has a mysterious depth and - together with the poem translated above - is not only his most famous poem, but also the best known of all Shin Kokinshu poems.
[Snow scene by Hiroshige]
(3)
SKKS 671
there is no shelter
to rest my pony
and brush off my sleeves -
the Ford of Sano
in the snow
at dusk
koma tomete | sode uchiharau | kage mo nashi | sano no watari no | yuki no yuugure
駒とめて袖うち払う陰もなし佐野のわたりの雪の夕暮れ
This winter poem is based on Poem 265 from the Man'yoshu (Book III) by Naga no Okimaro (late 7th c.):
how distressing:
the falling rain
here at Sano Crossing,
on the Cape of Miwa,
where there is no house for shelter
kurushiku mo / furikuru ame ka / miwa no saki / sano no watari ni / ie mo aranaku ni
Okimaro's poem established Sano Crossing as a place of inclement weather with little or no shelter, and subsequent poets would follow suit. Teika's "honkadori" (allusive variation) poem is more detailed, and the circumstances for the traveler are even more dire, precisely because Teika builds on the previous poem: it is snowing, and the falling evening portends a night of bitter cold in a place where there is no shelter. Note that Teika was working on a theme for a hundred poem series, and was not at Sano Crossing when he composed the verse quoted here! Composing poems, especially in poetry contests where themes were assigned, was often an exercise in manipulating conventions, a demonstration of one's understanding of a code.
understanding of a code.
Teika's poem became the classic example of the honkadori (allusive variation) technique invented by his father Shunzei and developed to new heights by Teika.
(4)
SSKS 44
plum blossoms
perfume my sleeves
with their scent
competing with the
moonlight
spilling through the eaves
ume no hana | nioi o utsusu | sode no ue ni | noki moru tsuki no | kage zo arasou
梅の花匂ひをうつす袖の上に軒漏る月の影ぞあらそふ
This is not a simple nature poem, but a dramatic story that goes back to The Tales of Ise (Chapter 4). At the beginning of spring, when the plum blossoms are at their peak, the protagonist visits a certain residence. It was the former home of a woman he had been deeply in love with the previous year, but who had suddenly disappeared. "Bursting into tears, he lay down on the bare floorboards and stayed there until the moon set in the sky. Recalling the events of the previous year, he composed a poem: Could this be the same moon? Could this be the spring of old? Only I am as I have always been, but without you here. Then, in the faint light of dawn, he returned home, weeping bitterly. (tr. Peter MacMillan, Penguin Books 2016, p. 7).
The previous poem is the classic example of Teika's honkadori technique. In this poem, we see a variant of this technique, called "monogataridori," because the object of the allusive variation is not another poem, but a story - such as from the Ise Monogatari or the Genji Monogatari. The Shin Kokinshu continues with 3 more poems in which other poets demonstrate this technique.
（５)
SKKS 63
in the sky
where the frost dances
spring rain falls
on the returning wings
of the emaciated geese
shimo mayou
| sora ni shioreshi
| karigane no
| kaeru tsubasa ni
| harusame zo furu
霜まよふ空にしをれし雁がねの帰るつばさに春雨ぞ降る
In early spring, wild geese leave Japan to spend the summer in the north and are called "kigan" 帰雁, "returning geese"; in the fall, they return to Japan and are called "raigan" 来雁. The poet imagines that the wings of kigan, the geese returning north, have become thin and weak from flying through the frosty winter sky, and he hopes that the warm spring rain will bring them some relief.
(6)
SKKS 1336
at the parting
of pure white sleeves
dew falls and
the autumn wind blows
in a color that pierces my body
shirotae no | sode no wakare ni | tsuyu ochite | mi ni shimu iro no | akikaze zo fuku
白妙の袖の別れに露落ちて身にしむ色の秋風ぞ吹く
Two lovers are sadly saying goodbye at dawn - it is the morning after they spent the night together. They are both wearing robes with white sleeves, and on these sleeves their tears fall like dewdrops. Note that in waka poetry, tears were thought to have the red color of blood, so we have red on white. At the same time, a cold autumn wind is shredding their bodies... this is the "color" carried by the autumn wind, and traditionally this was also considered white.
Japanese commentators have called this poem a "polished gem," and a poem that shows Teika's true character more than others.
[Straw mats called "mushiro"]
(7)
SKKS 420
on a cold straw mat
as she waits through the night
and the autumn wind deepens
she sleeps alone with the moonlight,
the maiden of Uji Bridge
samushiro ya | matsu yo no aki no | kaze fukete | tsuki wo katashiku | Uji no hashijime
さ筵や待つ夜の秋の風更けて月を方敷く宇治の橋姫
"Hashihime", "The Maiden of the Bridge", refers to a legend that exists in so many versions that it is difficult to decide which is the original story. In general, it is about a woman who spent lonely nights waiting for her lover (or husband) to visit her, and later, due to his infidelity, became a fierce demon fueled by jealousy (in other words, misogyny took over). She is most often associated with the famous ancient bridge at Uji. The poem, however, makes no reference to any legends, but merely uses the character of Hashihime to suggest the quality of ethereal beauty (yoen) that figures prominently in Teika's poetics. "Kaze fukete" is an interesting neologism, because until now it was only the night that deepened in waka poetry, not the wind. At night, people slept under their robes, and lovers spread their robes together. "Katashiki" refers to a single robe spread out, that is, to someone sleeping alone. In this poem, the Maiden of the Bridge at least has the moonlight as a companion...
Again, this poem alludes to an earlier verse, an anonymous work included among the "Love" poems in the Kokinshu (689):
will she spread a single robe
on her straw mat
and also this night
wait for me -
the Maiden of Uji Bridge?
samushiro ni | koromo katashiki | koyoi mo ya | ware o matsuramu | Uji no hashihime
Teika has added complexity and color to the original poem.
[Woman combing her hair,
shin hanga by Hashiguchi Goyo]
(8)
SKKS 1390
every single strand
of that black hair
I once caressed -
as I lay alone,
appears before my eyes
kakiyarishi | sono kurokami no | sujigoto ni | uchifusu hodo wa | omokage zo tatsu
かきやりしその黒髪の筋ごとにうち臥すほどは面影を立つ
The speaker is a man who longs for his beloved, who is far from him. Dejected, he throws himself onto his bed, but when he closes his eyes, all he sees is the beautiful long black hair of his beloved, which he used to caress and of which he remembers every single strand...
Teika alludes to a poem by Izumi Shikibu, in which the speaker, a woman, lies down to rest, her hair disheveled from a night of lovemaking - this is the morning after. The first thing she thinks of is her lover and the way he tenderly ran his fingers through her hair. Having had to leave before dawn, he is now absent, and she misses him greatly:
When I lie down
Forgetting the tangles
in my black hair
I immediately long for the one
who caressed it
kurokami no | midare mo shirazu | uchifuseba | mazu kakiyarishi | hito zo koishiki
(Goshuishu 1086)
[Fujiwara no teika]
Fujiwara no Teika (1162 - 1241) is one of the giants of classical Japanese literature, a figure who has been called the single most important influence in the entire history of classical poetry. He was the heir to the Mikohidari house of poetry, whose preeminence in poetic circles had been established at the end of the twelfth century by his father, Shunzei, following the deaths of the leading poets of the rival Rokujo house. It is from this Mikohidari house that the great poetic houses of the rest of the courtly poetry period can be said to have originated. Teika was one of the compilers of Shin Kokinshu ("New Collection of Ancient and Modern Poetry," 1205), the eighth imperial anthology, and was also the sole compiler of the following anthology, which was given the title Shin Chokusenshu ("New Imperial Anthology," 1232). He was the first poet to participate in the compilation of more than one such collection. Although as a young poet, especially in his twenties, he was ridiculed by other poets for his penchant for innovation and experimentation, after winning the favor of the retired emperor Go-Toba in the "First Hundred-Poem Sequence of the Shoji Era" (1200), he remained at the center of poetic developments for many years, both as a poet and as a critic: He was a regular participant in poetry contests, often serving as a judge, and he wrote several important poetic treatises that set forth recipes for successful poetic composition that have been quoted and followed for generations.
In his younger years, Teika developed the yoen ("ethereal elegance") style - a highly lyrical style characterized by great rhetorical dexterity, tonal and thematic complexity, allusive depth, and richness of language and imagery. Many of his waka in this style found their way into the Shin Kokinshu. The poems Teika wrote in his later years were more subdued than those of his youth: simpler, more restrained works in what he called ushin, the style of intense feeling. The best record of this quieter style is the Shin Chokusenshu. Among his successors, the Nijo school chose the later style, while the Kyogoku and Reizei schools preferred his earlier style. Most importantly, he was the founding father of the medieval poetic tradition.
Teika was also an important scholar, editor, and translator of Heian prose. Most modern editions of the Genji monogatari are based on manuscripts derived from a copy made and edited by Teika, and manuscript lines derived from a copy made by Teika exist for numerous other courtly tales and literary diaries.
Translations:
The Ise Stories, by Joshua S. Mostow and Royall Tyler (University of Hawai'i Press, 2010);
The Tales of Ise, by Peter MacMillan (Penguin Books 2016);
Kokinshu,
A Collection of Poems Ancient and Modern by Laurel Rasplica Rodd and
Mary Catherine Henkenius (University of Tokyo Press, 1984);
Kokin Wakashu, The First Imperial Anthology of Japanese Poetry, by Helen Craig McCullough (Stanford University Press, 1985);
One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each, by Peter MacMIllan (Penguin Classics);
Traditional Japanese Literature, an Anthology, Beginnings to 1600, ed. Haruo Shirane (Columbia U.P., 2007)
Traditional Japanese Poetry, An Anthology, by Steven D. Carter (Stanford University Press, 1991);
Waiting for the Wind: Thirty-Six Poets of Japan's Late Medieval Age, by Steven D. Carter (Columbia U.P., 1989)
A Waka Anthology, by Edward A. Cranston (2 vols, Stanford U.P. 1993 and 2006);
Studies:
Brocade by Night: Kokin Wakashu and the Court Style in Japanese Classical Poetry, by Helen Craig McCullough (Stanfors U.P., 1985)
History of Japanese Literature by Jun'ichi Konishi (3 vols, Princeton U.P., 1991)
Japan and the Culture of the Four Seasons, by Haruo Shirane (Columbia U.P., 2012)
Japanese Court Poetry, by Robert H Brower and Earl Miner (London 1962)
The Making of Shinkokinshu, by Robert N. Huey (Harvard U.P., 2002)
Pictures of the Heart, The Hyakunin Isshu in Word and Image by Joshua S. Mostow (University of Hawai'i Press, 1996);
Seeds in the Heart, Japanese Literature from the Earliest Times to the late Sixteenth Century, by Donald Keene (Columbia U.P. 1999)
Utakotoba Utamakura Daijiten, Kubota Jun and Baba Akiko (Kadokawa Shoten)
Utamakura, Allusion, and Intertextuality in Traditional Japanese Poetry, by Edward Kamens (Yale U.P., 1997)
Waka as Things, Waka and Things, by Edward Kamens (Yale U.P., 2017)
Waka bungaku jiten, by Ariyoshi Tamotsu (Ofusha)
Original texts:
Kokin Wakashu (Shogakkan, 1994);
Shinkokin Wakashu (Shogakkan, 1995);
Man'yoshu (4 vols, Shogakkan, 1996)
Online:
Japanese Text Initiative (Virginia University Library)
One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each (Hyakunin Isshu), translation and comments at this website
Photos: Wikimedia Commons (except photo of plum blossoms which is own work)
Japanese Poetry Index
