# Anthology of Japanese Literature/Shinkokinshū

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​SHINKOKINSHŪ
The “Shinkokinshū,” or “New Collection of Ancient and Modern Poems,” was the eighth of the anthologies of Japanese poetry compiled by Imperial order. It was completed in 1205 by a committee headed by the celebrated Fujiwara no Teia (1162–1241), the leading figure in the world of letters of his day. The Emperor Gotoba, who ordered the compilation, took an active interest in the “Shinkokinshū” and worked on it while in exile on the island of Oki.
The “Shinkokinshū” is often considered to be the greatest Japanese collection after the “Man’yōshū.” It is known particularly for the craftsmanship displayed by its poets, although this same quality has been denounced by some critics as “artificiality.” The attempt of its poets was to fill the elegantly wrought framework of their verses with content as poignant and moving as possible. With such poets as Saigyō (1118–1190) new heights in Japanese poetry were thereby reached. Needless to say, however, the technical perfection of the “Shinkokinshū” poems is largely lost in translation.
| Murasame no Tsuyu mo mada hinu Maki no ha ni Kiri tachinoboru Aki no yūgure | The hanging raindrops Have not dried from the needles Of the fir forest Before the evening mist Of autumn rises. |
The Priest Jakuren (died 1202) TRANSLATED BY KENNETH REXROTH
| Sayo chidori Koe koso chikaku Narumi-gata Katabuku tsuki ni Shio ya mitsuramu | The cries of the night Sanderlings draw closer To Narumi Beach; As the moon sinks in the sky The tide rises to the full. |
Shōsammi Sueyoshi
| Katami to te Hono fumi wakeshi Ato mo nashi Kishi wa mukashi no Niwa no ogiwara | Nothing whatsoever Remains of you in this grass We once used to tread; How long ago it was we came— The garden now is a wilderness. |
Fujiwara no Yasusue
| Hana wa chiri Sono iro to naku Nagamureba Munashiki sora ni Harusame zo furu | The blossoms have fallen. I stare blankly at a world Bereft of color: In the wide vacant sky The spring rains are falling. |
Princess Shikushi (died 1201)
| Hakanakute Suginishi kata wo Kazōreba Hana ni mono omou Haru zo henikeru | When I tell over The years of a past spent in Empty promises, How many springs have gone by Lamenting with the blossoms! |
Princess Shikushi
| Omoiamari Sonata no sora wo Nagamureba Kasumi wo wakete Harusame zo furu | When I stare off At the far sky where you are, In excess of grief, Filtering through the mists The spring rains are falling. |
Fujiwara no Shunzei (1114–1204)
| Uchishimeri Ayame zo kaoru Hototogisu Naku ya satsuki no Ame no yūgure | The irises, Their petals damp, are fragrant. Listen! The cuckoos Are calling now, this rainy Evening in May. |
Fujiwara no Yoshitsune (1169–1206)
| Ima komu to Chigirishi koto wa Yume nagara Mishi yo ni nitaru Ariake no tsuki | He promised me then He would come to me at once— That was in a dream: And yet the moon at daybreak Looked as it did the night we met. |
Minamoto no Michitomo (1171–1227)
| Haru no yo no Yume no ukihashi Todae shite Mine ni wakaruru Yokogumo no sora | When the floating bridge Of the dream of a spring night Was snapped, I awoke: In the sky a bank of clouds Was drawing away from the peak. |
Fujiwara no Teika
| Wasureji no Yukusue made wa Katakereba Kyō wo kagiri no Inochi to mo gana | It will be hard To keep forever the vow Never to forget— Would today could be the limit, And with it see our lives expire! |
The Mother of Gidō Sanji
| Wasureji to Iishi bakari no Nagori to te Sono yo no tsuki wa Meguru kinikeri | You said you would not Forget me—those were but words; All that still remains Is the moon which shone that night And now has come again. |
Fujiwara no Ariie (1155–1216)
| Sabishisa wa Sono iro to shi mo Nakarikeri Maki tatsu yama no Aki no yūgure | Loneliness does not Originate in any one Particular thing: Evening in autumn over The black pines of the mountain. |
The Priest Jakuren
| Kokoro naki Mi ni mo aware wa Shirarekeri Shigi tatsu sawa no Aki no yūgure | Even to someone Free of passions this sadness Would be apparent: Evening in autumn over A marsh where a snipe rises. |
Saigyō
| Miwataseba Hana mo momiji mo Nakarikeri Ura no tomaya no Aki no yūgure | In this wide landscape I see no cherry blossoms And no crimson leaves— Evening in autumn over A straw-thatched hut by the bay. |
Fujiwara no Teika
| Furuhata no Soba no tatsu ki ni Iru hato no Tomo yobu koe no Sugoki yūgure | In a tree standing Beside a desolate field, The voice of a dove Calling to its companions— Lonely, terrible evening. |
Saigyō
| Toshi takete Mata koyubeshi to Omoiki ya Inochi narikeri Sayo no Nakayama | Did I ever dream I should pass this way again As an old man? I have lived such a long time— Nakayama of the Night. |
Saigyō
| Haruka naru Iwa no hazama ni Hitori ite Hito me omowade Mono omowabaya | Living all alone In this space between the rocks Far from the city, Here, where no one can see me, I shall give myself to grief. |
Saigyō TRANSLATED BY DONALD KEENE
* ↑ See page 242.
* ↑ Meaning here a monk.
* ↑ Cherry blossoms and crimson leaves were the conventionally admired natural objects of spring and autumn respectively.
* ↑ A place name famous in poetry; such common place names as Nakayama were often identified as here by some descriptive term. See also page 249.