We made a promise, didn't we? Wringing out our tear-soaked sleeves, we swore our hearts would never change — just as the waves will never cross Mount Sue-no-Matsu.
Kiyohara no Motosuke (908–990) was a mid-Heian poet, grandson of Kiyohara no Fukayabu and father of Sei Shōnagon. One of the 'Five of the Pear Chamber' who compiled the Gosen Wakashū and added readings to the Man'yōshū, he is counted among the Thirty-Six Poetic Immortals; he served as governor of Kawachi and Higo and died in Higo. Known for quick wit, he left many screen poems and poems written on behalf of others. This one, Goshūi Wakashū, Love IV, 770, was composed 'in place of a man, for a woman whose heart had changed'. It draws on an Azuma folk song in the Kokinshū — 'if I ever turned my heart from you, the waves would cross Sue-no-Matsuyama' — Sue-no-Matsuyama in the far north being a hill the sea was believed never to cross, so that waves crossing it meant the impossible: a change of heart. Wringing tear-soaked sleeves together, the two had vowed that their hearts would no more change than the waves would cross that hill; now the vow is held up to the one who changed.
'We promised, didn't we.' The poem's first five syllables carry accusation and longing in equal weight. That night both of them were crying; the vow they exchanged while wringing out their sleeves seemed as certain as the sea never crossing Sue-no-Matsuyama. What changed was not the hill or the waves but the other person's heart. The poem never says 'betrayed'. It repeats the words of the vow and lets the one who broke it hear them. Written on someone else's behalf, it kept the words that could not be said in their most honest form.
What drew us to this poem was its strength: it only says 'we promised', and never once says the promise was broken. In today's scene, two people caught in an evening shower on a seaside hill wring out their sleeves and hook their little fingers — 'as long as the waves never reach that pine, we will never change' — on the night before one of them leaves. Summer ends, the replies grow short, and walking down the same hill alone, the tide has reached the roots of the pine: the waves that were never to cross have crossed, and the one who was never to change has changed. We let the lyrics say the vow and the change plainly, so that anyone can follow on first listen, and kept every word of blame or sorrow out. The chorus repeats 'chigiriki na' and translates it as it goes — we promised, didn't we — and keeps the poem's last line as it is. The bridge sings about the poem itself: someone long ago wrote the words that could not be said, for someone else, with neither anger nor tears. Not only for love — a song for anyone who remembers a promise alone. That is what we put into it, set as 2-step garage pop with a light falsetto lead, an a cappella opening, and a key change in the final chorus.
契りきな（後拾遺集/清原元輔・百人一首42番）Garu JP
契りきな かたみに袖を しぼりつつ
末の松山 波越さじとは
夕立に 追いつかれた坂道
濡れた袖を ふたりで絞った
明日 遠くへ行く君と
「あの松まで 波が来ない限り
ふたりは 変わらない」と
泣きながら 笑って 指を切った
夏が終わって 秋が来て
君の返事が 短くなって
波の音だけ 変わらずに
坂の下から 聞こえていた
契りきな 契りきな
約束したよね あの夜に
契りきな 契りきな
波は越えない はずだった
末の松山 波越さじとは
先に言ったのは 君だった
同じ坂を ひとりで下る
松の根元まで 潮が来ている
越えないはずの 波が越えて
変わらないはずの 君が変わった
潮が引いても 松の幹に
白い跡が 残ったまま
一度越えた 波のことは
無かったことに できなくて
契りきな 契りきな
約束したよね あの夜に
契りきな 契りきな
泣いていたのは 君もだろ
末の松山 波越さじとは
指切りの声が まだ聞こえる
いにしえの人も 誰かの代わりに
言えなかった言葉を 歌にした
怒りも 涙も 書かずに
「約束したよね」 それだけを
契りきな かたみに袖を しぼりつつ
末の松山 波越さじとは
契りきな 契りきな
約束したよね あの夜に
契りきな 契りきな
それでも 松は立っている
末の松山 波越さじとは
もう一度 言ってくれ
波越さじとは……
契りきな
Chigiriki na (Goshui-shu / Kiyohara no Motosuke, Hyakunin Isshu No. 42) Garu JP
We promised, didn't we — wringing our tear-soaked sleeves together
That the waves would never cross Sue-no-Matsuyama
A hillside road where the evening shower caught us
Together we wrung out our soaking sleeves
You were leaving for somewhere far the next day
"As long as the waves never reach that pine
The two of us will never change"
Crying and laughing, we hooked our little fingers
Summer ended and autumn came
Your replies grew shorter
Only the sound of the waves stayed the same
Rising from the foot of the hill
We promised, we promised
We made a vow that night
We promised, we promised
The waves were never supposed to cross
The waves would never cross Sue-no-Matsuyama
You were the one who said it first
I walk down the same hill alone
The tide has reached the roots of the pine
The waves that were never to cross have crossed
And you, who were never to change, have changed
Even after the tide goes out, on the trunk of the pine
A white mark remains
Once the waves have crossed
It can never be undone
We promised, we promised
We made a vow that night
We promised, we promised
You were crying too, weren't you
The waves would never cross Sue-no-Matsuyama
I can still hear the voice of that little-finger promise
Long ago, someone too, in another's place
Turned the words that could not be said into a song
Writing neither anger nor tears
Only "we promised, didn't we"
We promised, didn't we — wringing our tear-soaked sleeves together
That the waves would never cross Sue-no-Matsuyama
We promised, we promised
We made a vow that night
We promised, we promised
And still the pine is standing
The waves would never cross Sue-no-Matsuyama
Say it to me one more time
That the waves would never cross...
We promised, didn't we