The Master-Singers of Japan, by Clara A. Walsh, , at sacred-texts.com
Flourished about A.D. 700
One of the earliest distinguished poets of Japan. He was the rival of Hitómaro. He accompanied the Mikado Shoran. to Kii; and afterwards visited the Eastland, where he composed the well-known lines to Fuji.
By Akáhito—7th Century
On Waka's shore
The tide comes flowing.
Above the waters showing,
Towards the reeds
The cranes are swiftly flying,
All the night sky
Resonant with their crying.
By Tago's shore, I wander to and fro,
Gazing on Fuji's peak, where Autumn's earliest snow,
Fair was the Maid who dwelt in olden time
In Mama village—and well wooed was she.
Exchanged were Shidzu girdles. Bride-hut built,
And here among dense maki leafage hid,
There lay her tomb.
Long as the pine endures, her piteous tale,
The record of her sorrows shall endure
Engraven on my heart compassionate.
Still the smooth sea-wrack floats upon the tide,
In the clear waters of Kátsushika.
How oft the shining tendrils from the sea
Hath the fair maid of Mama gathered!
LAY ON THE RUINED CHAPEL OF TAKECHI *
By Kamo no Kimitari-Hito
The Spring mists hover round the hill,
The Hill of Kagu, where of old
The Gods descended, sacred still.
The pine-breeze murmurs through the wold;
A little ripple grows, and fades,
As the light air the clear pool stirs.
The cherry blooms still star the glades,
Mist-wreaths of blossom ’mid dark firs.
The wild duck seeks his mate, the teal
Rise from the reeds on whirring wings,
But on the lake no cleaving keel
Over the shining water swings.
Empty, the pleasure-barges lie,
Oarless and desolate they float;
No more for waiting courtiers ply,
As in Imperial days remote.
On the straight cedar-shafts the moss grows green,
Witness how long this solitude has been!
(From the "Manyôshiu "—Lay 78)
By Kuramochi no Asomi Chitosē
By the wide sea, wherein the great whales dwell,
Pleasant it is to wander o’er the shore,
And watch the seaweed tendrils undulate
In the green depths translucent, to and fro.
Fair 'tis to see the thousand ripples gleam,
In endless sequence in the morning calm;
And in the eventide to watch the curves
Of myriad wavelets breaking ceaselessly;
While always from the depths of ocean rolls
Through months and years the ever-heaving swell.
Pleasant it is on Suminoyé's strand
To watch the great white combers break in foam
The mists that drift across the hill—
High Hill of Ohonu—
They are my sighs that hover chill,
Of sorrow born across the hill—
High Hill of Ohonu!
By Tanobe Sakimaro
(From the "Manyôshiu"—A.D. 744)
Gentle the rise of wooded hills,
The rapid's murmur pleasant falls,
With rippled song and rushing trills
There by Futagi's Palace walls,
Where our great Prince and sacred Lord
Rules as he wills.
Long as in Spring, when soft and clear,
The warblers’ liquid love-song flows,
Upon the rocks resplendent flung,
The rich brocade of blossom glows,
Brightening the sombre mountain-foot
With gold and rose.
Long as in Autumn when afar
Unto his mate the proud stag calls,
From the brown boughs, a crimson star,
Trailing to earth, the red leaf falls,
Hurt by the rainy gusts that sweep
Through Heaven's blue halls.
So while a thousand years go by,
Still may His life endure, august,
While the great Palace shall defy
Ages where Empires turn to dust.
Still may the Gods preserve His sway
(Lay 117 from the "Manyôshiu"—A.D. 728)
Heavy the burden of this Life to bear!
By some strange chance we come into this world;
Yet, live or die, for us one Duty still
Shines through the dark perplexities of earth,
Obedience to the bidding of our Lord!
Therefore, O friend I while yet thy mortal frame
Dwells in this world, liege-loyal must thou bide
To thy great Sovereign—thou who farest forth
Guard to the distant frontier far away,
With a great company—as wild-fowl flock,
Winging their flight in the pale shine of Dawn!
Forget not thou, in far-flung wilds thy friend
Left far behind in the City-Royal here,
Whose love is thine, tho’ long thine absence be!
To Koshi as thou farest, crossing hills
Steep and snow-clad, thy friend remember still
Who, left behind, ever remembers thee I
(From the "Manyôshiu.")
By One of the Ladies of the Court
I may not follow where my Lord
Blissful ascends to Heaven's high plant;
But, far from Him whom I adored,
My sleeve is wet with bitter rain—
Earthly and mortal I abide
From His dear Presence sundered wide.
Were I a jewelled ornament,
A vesture, an embroidered sleeve,
I had not been so rudely rent
From Him I saw but yester-eve
In a dream-vision—Heaven-seat.
31:* The son of Mikado Temmu, and a valiant warrior; died A.D. 696.