Japanese Poetry

[tabular_rasa]

"Such poems are not for pleasure . . . they spring from emotion too strong to be borne." -Ki no Tsukurayuki, "A Tosa Journal."

"In my forlorn state
I feel like a floating reed
ready to break free
at the roots and drift away--
if the waters would but tempt me."
Wabinureba
mi o ukikusa no
ne o taete
sasou mizu araba
inamu to zo omou
-Ono no Komachi, "The Kokinshuu."

There once was a man who lived in a remote country district. One day he made his wife an affectionate farewell and set off for the capital to seek employment in an aristocratic house. When three years had passed with no sign of him, his wife, tired of waiting, promised to marry someone who had been wooing her with great persistance. But on the very night she had selected for the first meeting, her husband appeared and knocked on the door to be let in. Instead of opening, she wrote this poem and passed it out:
"After three long years
of wearisome waiting
for your return,
on this very evening
I am wed to another."
Aratama no
toshi no mitose o
machiwabite
tada koyoi koso
niimakura sure.

He replied:
"Love your new husband
as I have loved you for years
as numerous as bows
made of birch and spindlewood,
made from the zelkova tree."
Azusayumi
mayumi tsukiyumi
toshi o hete
wa ga seshi ga goto
uruwashimi se yo.

Then he started to leave. His wife recited this poem:
[Her] "It does not matter
whether others seek my love.
From the beginning,
you were always the one
for whom I truly cared."
Azusayumi
hikedo hikanedo
mukashi yori
kokoro wa kimi ni
yorinishi mono o.

All the same, he set out. His anguished wife went after him but could not overtake him, and at length she fell down beside a clear spring. She wrote this poem on a rock with blood from her finger:
"I could not detain
the one who went away,
rejecting my love,
and now, it seems, the time has come
to bid farewell to life."
Aimowade
karenuru hito o
todomekane
wa ga mi ima zo
kiehatenumeru.

She died on that very spot.
-Ariwara no Narihira, "The Tales of Ise."