Gazing at the moon, a thousand sorrows fill my heart — though autumn did not come for me alone.
Ōe no Chisato was a scholar and poet of the early Heian period. A nephew of Ariwara no Narihira and Yukihira, he was less a waka poet than a Confucian scholar and a specialist in Chinese poetry and prose. In 894, at the command of Emperor Uda, he compiled and presented the Kudai Waka — an unprecedented experiment in which a single line from a Chinese poem by Bai Juyi or others was taken as the "topic" and recomposed as a waka. The source of this poem is a line from Bai Juyi's "Yanzi Lou" (Swallow Tower): "Autumn comes, and it is long for one person alone." He translated and elevated a Tang poem into Yamato words, creating a waka that has lasted a thousand years — a great senior who, a thousand years ago, was doing exactly what Garu JP does: remaking thousand-year-old poems into songs of today. This song is also a reply poem to Chisato.
The core is "the gap between reason and feeling." Autumn comes to everyone equally; I am not the only one who is sad — he knows that in his head. Chisato the scholar knows it better than anyone. And yet when he looks up at the moon, sadness overflows "in a thousand pieces," and it feels as if every autumn in the world is falling on him alone. A poem that says it all, in the span of a single waka, about that very human self-awareness: "I know — but my feelings won't follow."
"Autumn doesn't belong to me alone, I know that — and yet": we built the song's very structure out of this gap between reason and feeling. The chorus opens with reason, "I know, this moon is everyone's moon," and closes with feeling, "and yet tonight, autumn is mine alone." On a night when nothing is wrong and you still want to cry, you don't deny the self that wants to keep the sadness all to itself — you hold it close and fall asleep. That is not a shame but proof of being human, the song says.
月見れば（古今集/大江千里・百人一首23番）Garu JP
ベランダの手すりに もたれて見てた
今夜の月は やけに近い
悪いことなんて 何もなかった
それなのに 胸が重い
ひとつじゃない 悲しみの理由
数えるほどに 月が滲む
月見れば ちぢにものこそ
悲しけれ 今夜もまた
わかってる この月はみんなの月
秋は誰の上にも 降るものだと
それでも今夜は 私ひとりの秋
スマホの中では みんな笑ってる
同じ夜を 生きてるのに
カーテン閉じても 月の明かりは
隙間から 忍び込んでくる
悲しみに理由が いるのなら
月のせいに してもいいかな
月見れば ちぢにものこそ
悲しけれ わが身ひとつ
知ってるよ 世界は回ってる
私が泣いても 朝は来ると
だけど今夜は 私ひとりの秋
千年前 異国の詩を
訳した人も 月を見てた
「秋はひとりのために 長くなる」
その一行に 自分を見てた
月見れば ちぢにものこそ悲しけれ
わが身ひとつの 秋にはあらねど
月見れば ちぢにものこそ
悲しけれ それでいい
みんなの空に 同じ月が出て
それぞれの秋を 照らしている
私ひとりの秋 抱きしめて眠る
明日にはきっと 少し軽くなる
わが身ひとつの……
秋にはあらねど
Leaning on the balcony rail, I was gazing up
Tonight the moon feels strangely close
Nothing bad happened today at all
And yet my heart feels heavy
The reasons for this sadness — more than one
The more I count them, the more the moon blurs
When I gaze upon the moon, a thousand sorrows
fill my heart — tonight, once again
I know — this moon belongs to everyone
and autumn falls on every single soul
But tonight, this autumn is mine alone
On my phone screen, everyone is smiling
We're living through the same night, and yet
Even with the curtains drawn, the moonlight
steals in through the gap
If sadness really needs a reason
maybe I can blame it on the moon
When I gaze upon the moon, a thousand sorrows
fill my heart — as if mine alone
I know the world keeps turning
and morning comes even if I cry
But tonight, this autumn is mine alone
A thousand years ago, a scholar translating
a foreign poem gazed at this same moon
"Autumn nights grow long for one alone"
In that single line, he saw himself
When I gaze upon the moon, a thousand sorrows fill my heart
though this autumn comes not for me alone
When I gaze upon the moon, a thousand sorrows
fill my heart — and that's all right
The same moon rises in everyone's sky
lighting each and every autumn below
I'll hold my own autumn close and sleep
Tomorrow it will surely weigh a little less
Though not for me alone...
this autumn of sorrow
Tsuki Mireba (Kokin Wakashu / Hyakunin Isshu No.23) Garu JP