Part 1
“ As the autumn season approaches the Tsuchimikado becomes inexpressibly smile-giving ”
秋のけはひ入りたつままに、土御門殿のありさま、いはむかたなくをかし。池のわたりの梢ども、遣水のほとりの草むら、おのがじし色づきわたりつつ、大方の空も艷なるにもてはやされて、不断の御読経の声々、あはれまさりけり。やうやう凉しき風のけはひに、例の絶えせぬ水の音なひ、夜もすがら聞きまがはさる。
御前にも、近うさぶらふ人びとはかなき物語するをきこしめしつつ、悩ましうおはしますべかめるを、さりげなくもて隠させたまへる御ありさまなどの、いとさらなる事なれど、憂き世の慰めには、かかる御前をこそ、尋ね参るべかりけれと、現し心をばひき違へ、たとしへなくよろづ忘らるるも、かつはあやし。
まだ夜深きほどの月さし曇り、木の下をぐらきに、
「御格子参りなばや。」 「女官は、今までさぶらはじ。」 「蔵人参れ。」
など言ひしろふほどに、後夜の鉦打ち驚かして、五壇の御修法の時始めつ。われもわれもと、うち上げたる伴僧の声々、遠く近く、聞きわたされたるほど、おどろおどろしく尊し。
観音院の僧正、東の対より、二十人の伴僧を率ゐて、御加持参りたまふ足音、渡殿の橋のとどろとどろと踏み鳴らさるるさへぞ、ことごとのけはひには似ぬ。法住寺の座主は馬場の御殿、浄土寺の僧都は文殿などに、うち連れたる浄衣姿にて、ゆゑゆゑしき唐橋どもを渡りつつ、木の間をわけて帰り入るほども、遥かに見やらるる心地してあはれなり。斎祇阿闍梨も、大威徳を敬ひて、腰をかがめたり。人びと参りつれば、夜も明けぬ。
渡殿の戸口の局に見出だせば、ほのうち霧りたる朝の露もまだ落ちぬに、殿歩かせたまひて、御隨身召して、遣水払はせたまふ。橋の南なる女郎花のいみじう盛りなるを、一枝折らせたまひて、几帳の上よりさし覗かせたまへる御さまの、いと恥づかしげなるに、我が朝顏の思ひ知らるれば、
「これ、遅くては悪ろからむ。」
とのたまはするにことつけて、硯のもとに寄りぬ。
女郎花盛りの色を見るからに 露の分きける身こそ知らるれ
「あな、疾。」
と、ほほ笑みて、硯召し出づ。
白露は分きても置かじ女郎花 心からにや色の染むらむ
しめやかなる夕暮に、宰相の君と二人、物語してゐたるに、殿の三位の君、簾のつま引き上げてゐたまふ。年のほどよりはいと大人しく、心にくきさまして、
「人はなほ心ばへこそ、難きものなめれ。」
など、世の物語、しめじめとしておはするけはひ、幼しと人のあなづりきこゆるこそ悪しけれと、恥づかしげに見ゆ。うちとけぬほどにて、
「多かる野辺に」
とうち誦じて、立ちたまひにしさまこそ、物語にほめたる男の心地しはべりしか。
かばかりなる事の、うち思ひ出でらるるもあり、その折はをかしきことの、過ぎぬれば忘るるもあるは、いかなるぞ。
播磨守、碁の負けわざしける日、あからさまにまかでて、後にぞ御盤のさまなど見たまへしかば、華足などゆゑゆゑしくして、洲浜のほとりの水に書き混ぜたり。
紀伊の国の白良の浜に拾ふてふ この石こそは巌ともなれ
扇どもも、をかしきを、そのころは人びと持たり。
As the autumn season approaches the Tsuchimikado becomes inexpressibly smile-giving. The tree-tops near the pond, the bushes near the stream, are dyed in varying tints whose colours grow deeper in the mellow light of evening. The murmuring sound of waters mingles all the night through with the never-ceasing recitation of sutras which appeal more to one's heart as the breezes grow cooler.
The ladies waiting upon her honoured presence are talking idly. The Queen hears them; she must find them annoying, but she conceals it calmly. Her beauty needs no words of mine to praise it, but I cannot help feeling that to be near so beautiful a queen will be the only relief from my sorrow. So in spite of my better desires [for a religious life] I am here. Nothing else dispels my grief—it is wonderful!
It is still the dead of night, the moon is dim and darkness lies under the trees. We hear an officer call,
"The outer doors of the Queen's apartment must be opened. The maids-of-honour are not yet come—let the Queen's secretaries come forward!" While this order is being given the three-o'clock bell resounds, startling the air. Immediately the prayers at the five altars begin. The voices of the priests in loud recitation, vying with each other far and near, are solemn indeed. The Abbot of the Kanon-in Temple, accompanied by twenty priests, comes from the eastern side building to pray. Even their footsteps along the gallery which sound to'-do-ro to'-do-ro are sacred. The head priest of the Hoju Temple goes to the mansion near the race-track, the prior of the Henji Temple goes to the library. I follow with my eyes when the holy figures in pure white robes cross the stately Chinese bridge and walk along the broad path. Even Azaliah Saisa bends the body in reverence before the deity Daiitoku. The maids-of-honour arrive at dawn.
I can see the garden from my room beside the entrance to the gallery. The air is misty, the dew is still on the leaves. The Lord Prime Minister is walking there; he orders his men to cleanse the brook. He breaks off a stalk of omenaishi [flower maiden] which is in full bloom by the south end of the bridge. He peeps in over my screen! His noble appearance embarrasses us, and I am ashamed of my morning [not yet painted and powdered] face. He says, "Your poem on this! If you delay so much the fun is gone!" and I seize the chance to run away to the writing-box, hiding my face—
Flower-maiden in bloom—
Even more beautiful for the bright dew,
Which is partial, and never favors me.
"So prompt!" said he, smiling, and ordered a writing-box to be brought [for himself].
His answer:
The silver dew is never partial.
From her heart
The flower-maiden's beauty.
One wet and calm evening I was talking with Lady Saisho. The young Lord of the Third Rank sat with the misu partly rolled up. He seemed maturer than his age and was very graceful. Even in light conversation such expressions as "Fair soul is rarer than fair face" come gently to his lips, covering us with confusion. It is a mistake to treat him like a young boy. He keeps his dignity among ladies, and I saw in him a much-sought-after romantic hero when once he walked off reciting to himself:
Linger in the field where flower-maidens are blooming
And your name will be tarnished with tales of gallantry.
Some such trifle as that sometimes lingers in my mind when really interesting things are soon forgotten—why?
Nowadays people are carrying pretty folding fans.