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Hyakunin Isshu No. 94 · Councillor Masatsune (Asukai no Masatsune)Miyoshino no

“Autumn Wind from Yoshino” — Councillor Masatsune (Asukai no Masatsune)Source: Shin Kokinshū, Autumn II · 483
み吉野の 山の秋風 さ夜更けて
ふるさと寒く 衣打つなり
Miyoshino no yama no akikaze sayo fukete
furusato samuku koromo utsu nari
Autumn wind from the mountains of Yoshino — as the night deepens,
the old capital grows cold, and someone is beating cloth in the dark.
Hyakunin IsshuShin Kokin WakashūAutumnLonelinessNostalgiaYoshino (Nara)
Miyoshino no jacket art▶

What the poem says

The autumn wind blows through the mountains of Yoshino, and as the night deepens, the sound of cloth being beaten on fulling blocks drifts coldly through the old capital.

Music Video

ミュージックビデオ

The Story

歌のものがたり

Historical Background

Councillor Masatsune — Asukai no Masatsune (1170–1221) — was a nobleman and poet of the early Kamakura period. His father was exiled for siding with Minamoto no Yoshitsune, and Masatsune went down to Kamakura in his youth to serve Yoritomo and Yoriie; later, back in the capital, he was discovered by Retired Emperor Go-Toba, appointed to the Bureau of Poetry in 1201, and became one of the compilers of the Shin Kokin Wakashū. A master of kemari (courtly football), he founded the Asukai house, hereditary masters of both kemari and poetry. This poem is Shin Kokin Wakashū, Autumn II, 483. It takes as its model a Kokinshū poem by Sakanoue no Korenori ('snow must be piling on the mountains of Yoshino — the old capital grows colder and colder') and replaces 'white snow' with 'the sound of beating cloth' — a cold seen with the eyes turned into a cold heard with the ears, in the true Shin Kokin manner. 'Furusato' here is not a hometown but the old capital of Yoshino, where a detached palace once stood. The sound of the kinuta — the fulling block on which women beat cloth to soften it through long autumn nights — had been an autumn motif since the Tang poets: the loneliness of travelers, and of wives waiting for husbands.

The Poet's Heart

"Autumn wind blows down from the mountains of Yoshino. The night deepens, the old capital grows cold, and I hear the sound of cloth being beaten." Not one word of feeling. Autumn wind, deep night, cold, the sound of the fulling block — he sets out only scenery and sound, and lets the 'ton, ton' carry both the labor of someone awake and working in the night and the loneliness of the one who listens. Where the model poem said outright 'it grows colder and colder,' Masatsune says only 'someone is beating cloth' — he never names the cold; he lets us hear it. Here is the quiet night-ear of a poet who lost his father young and spent his life between Kamakura and Kyoto.

What We Put into the Lyrics

What drew Kaoru and Kuroko to this poem was the sound of the fulling block — someone still awake in the middle of the night, eight hundred years ago, striking something. That sound still exists in our nights: the first night in a room you've just moved into, a window opened a crack, the distant sound of something being struck; a tap running in your parents' kitchen, your mother's footsteps, the washing machine that turned every night — "that, too, was probably a fulling block." In the lyrics we turned the rhythm of the kinuta into the hiragana sound "ton, ton" and made it the hook of the chorus. Following the original, which never says "cold," this song never says "lonely." What we left instead is "as long as I can hear it, the light won't go out" — only the feel of someone's living sounds at the bottom of the night holding up a solitary night just a little. Only two lines of will remain — "tonight I'll just keep listening" and "I'll count it until I fall asleep": listen, count, sleep. On the first autumn night away from home, hearing the same sound as a poet long ago — that is what we put into this song. We crossed Celtic folk with Japanese min'yō: the fulling block became a bodhrán, the autumn wind a tin whistle answered by a shinobue flute — two folk traditions, an ocean apart, sharing the same ache.

Lyrics

歌詞
Japanese

み吉野の（新古今集/参議雅経・百人一首94番）Garu JP

Verse 1

引っ越したばかりの 部屋の夜

段ボールの山と 秋の風

窓を少しだけ 開けてみれば

遠くで何かを 打つ音がする

Pre-Chorus

とん とん と 夜の底で

誰かがまだ 起きている

Chorus

み吉野の 山の秋風 さ夜更けて

ふるさと寒く 衣打つなり

とん とん と 響く音が

夜の輪郭を なぞっていく

今夜はこのまま 聴いていよう

Verse 2

実家の台所 蛇口の音

まだ起きている 母の足音

夜ごと回っていた 洗濯機

あれもたぶん 砧だった

Pre-Chorus 2

とん とん と 胸の奥で

何かがまだ 起きている

Chorus 2

み吉野の 山の秋風 さ夜更けて

ふるさと寒く 衣打つなり

冷えた手のひら 布団のなかへ

街の灯りが ひとつ消える

とん とん と まだ止まない

Bridge

砧の音は いにしえの

誰かの夜なべの 手のリズム

聞こえるうちは 灯りも消えない

窓を閉めずに 目を閉じる

Drop

み吉野の 山の秋風 さ夜更けて

ふるさと寒く 衣打つなり

Final Chorus

み吉野の 山の秋風 さ夜更けて

ふるさと寒く 衣打つなり

とん とん と 響く音を

眠るまで 数えていよう

ふるさとの朝が 混ざるまで

Outro

衣打つなり……

とん とん と

English

Miyoshino no (Shin Kokin-shu / Councillor Masatsune, Hyakunin Isshu No. 94) Garu JP

The first night in a room I've just moved into

A pile of cardboard boxes, and the autumn wind

I open the window just a crack

Far away, something is being struck

Ton, ton, at the bottom of the night

Someone is still awake

Autumn wind from the mountains of Yoshino, as the night deepens

The old capital grows cold, and someone is beating cloth

Ton, ton, the sound rings out

Tracing the outline of the night

Tonight I'll just keep listening

The kitchen tap at my parents' house

My mother's footsteps, still awake

The washing machine that turned every night

That, too, was probably a fulling block

Ton, ton, deep in my chest

Something is still awake

Autumn wind from the mountains of Yoshino, as the night deepens

The old capital grows cold, and someone is beating cloth

Cold palms slipped under the covers

One light in the town goes out

Ton, ton, it still hasn't stopped

The sound of the fulling block is a rhythm

Of hands at night-work, someone's, long ago

As long as I can hear it, the light won't go out

I close my eyes without closing the window

Autumn wind from the mountains of Yoshino, as the night deepens

The old capital grows cold, and someone is beating cloth

Autumn wind from the mountains of Yoshino, as the night deepens

The old capital grows cold, and someone is beating cloth

Ton, ton, the sound that rings out

I'll count it until I fall asleep

Until the morning of home mixes in

Someone is beating cloth...

Ton, ton

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