As autumn mountains
Tinged with scarlet were you, maiden,
A pliable bamboo,
Supply bending, lady,
Of what
Were you thinking?
A rope of hemp
Should stretch your life long;
The dew
Falls with the morning
And with the evening
Vanishes, 'tis said;
The mist
Rises with the evening
And with the morn
Is lost, 'tis said;
As a catalpa bow,
The rumours, I, too, heard them, and
Saw you only briefly.
How sad:
As folded linen,
Pillowed on your arm,
A well-honed sword,
His body by yours in sleep,
As young grass,
Is your husband.
How lonely must he be ?
With thoughts of you will he sleep,
Grieving;
Fondly feeling,
It was not your time,
And you are gone, oh lady,
As is the morning dew,
As is the evening mist.
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Comments
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So sad
I haven't read any poem more 'feeling' than this. It seems to me that the poet is grieving the passing of his precious soulmate. Nothing could possibly pain more. My heart goes out to the poet. May the hearts in love continue to beat for each other together. Amen.
Charishma -
I feel this could possibly be th saddest poem I've ever read. The play of emotion here mixed with the real images of a hard word are artistically tuned as was the way with the court poets of this time.
I wonder if this was composed in the memory of his wife who he often wrote of after her death.
Kakinomoto no Asomi Hitomaro is very gentle with his words here, as if to mark the silent passing of the subject.
Beautiful yet very strong choka.
Andrew -
"and you are gone, oh lady,
As is the morning dew,
As is the evening mist."
we all will be someday. That is depressing, that it is all just temporary...though sometimes it is a comfort.
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