Kumoinokari

 

(Wikimedia)

 

I am a devil,

his wife said. You are in Hell.

Maybe in spirit,

he replied, but you look good.

No laughing matter!

she retorted, flushing red.

She looked attractive –

even more so when angry.

I don’t want to hear your voice.

He changed and went out;

he visited the Princess.

She didn’t rate him.

The trouble wasn’t worth it –

he and his wife were quite close.

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Grief

(Wikipedia.  Yamabuki – also known as Kerria japonica)

 

The yamabuki

is blooming so profusely

that it seems tactless:

you wouldn’t call it subtle.

Inappropriate,

to say the least, is its show.

No Murasaki

to enjoy the Spring flowers…

It is inconceivable!

And she had been so refined;

she had always been

one for utmost decorum,

so how can this tree

be quite so insensitive,

as to rejoice when we grieve?

Death of Murasaki

(Tokyo National Museum)

 

Dew on the lotus –

that is what we must become.

Spring is bleak this year

and the plum blossom blasted.

I hold no concerts

and avoid flirtations.

The snow has melted;

I wish to dissolve as well,

so will remain behind blinds.

A song bird arrives,

but she has now flown her nest.

My grandson enquires:

Are you going to follow her?

I am ready to depart.

The Handwriting of the Dead

Tags

calligraphy, despondency, handwriting, Japanese poetry, Longevity

 

 

 

The dead’s handwriting

has power to affect us.

The ink was as fresh

as if only yesterday

the brush had been dipped.

He blurred the paper with tears

and re-read her words;

then consigned them to the flames.

Smoke spiralled to the heavens.

He no longer craved

longevity from the gods.

As the snow drifted,

his despondency increased.

The end of the year approached.

 

Kashiwagi

(Image 12th century: Tokugawa Museum)

 

A man does not live

for millennia, like trees.

If he has one wish,

he wants it to be fulfilled.

An expiation

might lay the tormenting ghost

and all his past sins,

snuffing smoke; quenching embers.

Then he’ll breathe on his death bed

more freely for it.

The rat will not gnaw his soul;

consequences come

and outcomes that may endure

for more than a thousand years.

Death of Kashiwagi

(Tokugawa Museum)

 

One’s humanity

can be destroyed by brooding –

too much dwelling on

superficiality,

as shown by others.

Analysis devastates.

The wrong leaf can bud

from the same stalk as the right.

But though blooms wither,

Spring re-animates.

Bitterness should be buried

with the corpse of past deeds.

Other people determine

part of your life; but not all.

Waterfowl’s Cry

(Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.  Wikipedia;

Hashiguchi Goyo)

 

 

There are as many

sorts of women as women.

But some are subtle

and others are quite artless.

Which type had she been ?

Need she seek a vocation?

The waterfowl’s cry

echoed his long past affair.

Her gate, not closely guarded,

gave encouragement.

He would see her once again,

so coughed politely.

Plucking some wistaria,

he took his leave – for now.

Dutiful Visits

Tags

choka, Japanese poetry, Lady Hitachi, Murasaki Shikibu, Seidensticker, Tale of Genji

 

(Wikipedia.  Murasaki Shikibu portrait

Author: Kano Takanobu; )WalkerPlus)

 

When the letter came,

he did not let her see it.

It was pathetic,

but he saved the woman’s face;

she was a princess!

Murasaki was unique –

she should understand.

But why was he so nervous

if the other meant nothing?

Lady Hitachi

is the one he visits now.

No woman need fret:

she has a ginormous nose!

There is no competition.

 

(I have used Edward Seidensticker’s translation of

‘The Tale of Genji’ throughout.  I have taken his prose

and cut, paraphrased and transformed the material,

re-shaping it into chokas and tankas.  My intention was

to capture the spirit of the tale, but to return it to poetry

by using traditional Japanese forms.

Seidensticker made the work accessible to me, for which

I am indebted.)

Non Pareil

Tags

Murasaki Shikibu, plum blossom, Tale of Genji

(Image: Wikimedia Commons)

 

It is quite futile

to torment oneself over

the inconstancy

of the opposite sex, she

declared, with a sigh.

The cockerel crowed early

and she had not slept,

but she trespassed on his dreams.

He left the woman’s chamber

on the first pretext.

Now he was back home,

there was no comparison-

just as sprigs of plum blossom

differ greatly from cherry.

No Reproach

Tags

Genji, Lady of Akashi, Murasaki Shikibu, Sumiyoshi Gukei

(Genji meets his daughter for first time: The Wind in the Pines,

Burke Collection, NY. Toso Mitsunori – 1583-1638)

 

When the snow drifted

and thick ice glazed the river,

the child and her doll

were despatched in a carriage,

without her mother,

but in the charge of her nurse.

It did not take long

till she transferred affection

to her generous guardian.

Genji visited

The Lady of Ashaki.

Could he make amends?

She offered him no reproach,

as they played a brief duet.

 

(A Rack of Clouds Sumiyoshi Gukei 1631-1705  Picture taken from a Tumblr site on The Tale of Genji: mostbeautifulgenji. The author didn’t say where they had found it. Will be glad to acknowledge location, if told)