Rowing out across the wide sea and looking around, I see white waves far offshore that could be mistaken for clouds.
Fujiwara no Tadamichi (1097–1164), known in the Hyakunin Isshu as the Hosshōji Lay Priest and former Chancellor, was head of the Fujiwara clan in the late Heian period and served in turn as regent, chief adviser and Chancellor of the Realm. He was also a master calligrapher, and his style of writing came to be called the Hosshōji school. In the Hōgen Rebellion of 1156 he stood with Emperor Go-Shirakawa, on the winning side. This poem is Shika Wakashū, Miscellaneous II, 382. It was composed while Emperor Sutoku was still on the throne, at a poetry gathering before him, on the assigned topic 'gazing far out over the sea' — a topic poem, not one written from a real boat. 'Wata no hara' means the wide open sea, and 'hisakata no' is a pillow word attached to the sky and the clouds. For the nobles of the capital the open ocean was a distant world, and that is exactly why the moment the boat pulls away and the view opens up could be painted as one large picture.
Leave the shore, row out, lift your face. Before you there is only sea and sky. The white waves standing far offshore seem continuous with the white clouds, and you cannot tell where the sea ends and the sky begins. The poem says only this; it does not call the view vast, or beautiful. In the single word magau — to be mistaken for — there is the brief bewilderment of the eye that is looking. Then it stops on a noun, 'the white waves of the offing', and leaves the rest to the scene. It is a poem that adds no words before a great view.
The heart of this poem is one word, magau — to mistake one thing for another. The original never says wide or beautiful; it offers only the instant when the border between white waves and clouds disappears, and closes on a noun, 'the white waves of the offing'. We carried this way of showing without saying into the structure of the song itself. Until the boat is out, we drew only the body and its sounds: feet kicking the sand, the oar taking one stroke of water, the voices on the shore growing faint. The view where the border vanishes is never named before the chorus. In the second verse, the white thing that rolls in only rocks the boat and slowly draws away; we did not write whether it was a wave or a cloud. When you search for the horizon, the glare off the sea blinds you. We left the reason you cannot see to the light, and handed the answer to the chorus. There, after the poem is sung, we put the mistaking into today's words as a movement — the border with the clouds of the sky comes undone, the sea and the sky become one. Keep the thing you most want to show until the end, and show it only once. That is our answer to this poem of pure landscape.
わたの原 漕ぎ出でて(詞花集/法性寺入道前関白太政大臣・百人一首76番)Garu JP
砂を蹴って 舟を押す
櫂が 水を ひとつ掻く
岸の声が 遠くなる
漕いで 漕いで 沖へ出る
顔を上げて 見わたせば
わたの原 漕ぎ出でて見れば 久方の
雲居にまがふ 沖つ白波
大海原 漕ぎ出して見れば
沖に立つ 白い波が
空の雲と 境がほどける
海と空が ひとつになる
櫂を上げる
雫が落ちる
舟は流れに まかせる
白いものが 寄せてくる
舟を揺らし
ゆっくり引いてく
水平線を 探しても
光に 目がくらむ
わたの原 漕ぎ出でて見れば 久方の
雲居にまがふ 沖つ白波
大海原 漕ぎ出して見れば
沖に立つ 白い波が
空の雲と 境がほどける
海と空が ひとつになる
わたの原 漕ぎ出でて見れば 久方の
雲居にまがふ 沖つ白波
雲の影が 海をわたる
白波が 後を追いかける
わたの原 漕ぎ出でて見れば 久方の
雲居にまがふ 沖つ白波
大海原 漕ぎ出して見れば
沖に立つ 白い波が
空の雲と 境がほどける
海と空が ひとつになる
沖つ白波
I kick the sand and push the boat
The oar takes one stroke of water
The voices on the shore grow faint
Rowing, rowing, out to the open sea
I lift my face and look around
Rowing out onto the wide sea plain, I look — and far away,
the white waves of the offing are mistaken for the clouds of the sky
Rowing out onto the great ocean, I look
The white waves rising far offshore
and the clouds of the sky — their border comes undone
The sea and the sky become one
I lift the oar
Drops of water fall
I leave the boat to the current
Something white comes rolling in
It rocks the boat
and slowly draws away
I search for the horizon
but the light blinds my eyes
Rowing out onto the wide sea plain, I look — and far away,
the white waves of the offing are mistaken for the clouds of the sky
Rowing out onto the great ocean, I look
The white waves rising far offshore
and the clouds of the sky — their border comes undone
The sea and the sky become one
Rowing out onto the wide sea plain, I look — and far away,
the white waves of the offing are mistaken for the clouds of the sky
The shadow of a cloud crosses the sea
The white waves chase after it
Rowing out onto the wide sea plain, I look — and far away,
the white waves of the offing are mistaken for the clouds of the sky
Rowing out onto the great ocean, I look
The white waves rising far offshore
and the clouds of the sky — their border comes undone
The sea and the sky become one
White waves of the offing
Wata no Hara Kogiidete (Shika-shu / Hosshoji Nyudo Saki no Kanpaku Daijo Daijin, Hyakunin Isshu No. 76) Garu JP