Monk Sogi: Wise Traveler

Can be found here

For this post I want to talk about probably the most famous renga (linked-verse) poet, Monk Sōgi. He lived from 1421-1502 A.D. He was a Zen priest and a contemporary of Bishop Shinkei, but it does not seem that Sōgi worked directly under any of the poetic giants of his day. He came from a humble background from a village near Kyōto, but took Buddhist vows early on in his life. Similar to Saigyō, he spent a lot of his time travelling from place to place.

Sōgi was an innovator in Japanese poetry and his work set the stage for later haiku poets. His two most famous works are Minase sangin hyakuin and Yuyama sangin hyakuin (“Three Poets at Minase” and “Three Poets at Yuyama”) which are both 100 poem renga sequences in which three poets compose together within fairly strict guidelines. I am going to translate some of Minase sequence later.

He seemed to have learned the art of linking verse from Shinkei and Sōzei, but, like all famous Japanese poets, he is also able to pull allusions from the greats: Kokinshū and Shinkokinshū. I chose a few of his poems to translate, but keep in mind, some of these poems were probably meant to be read as a longer renga sequence so he may not have intended them to stand alone.

Can be found here

人を夢とや思いしるらん

すみすてしそのわ胡蝶の宿りにて

宗祇

Perhaps a realization

That mankind is just a dream.

Forgotten about,

The garden is now a home

For butterflies.

Sōgi

This poem is an allusion to a famous passage written by the Taoist philosopher Zhuangzi. The passage goes:

Once I Zhuang Zhou dreamt that I was a butterfly fluttering about happily.

I did not know that I was Zhou. Suddenly, I awoke, and there I was, Zhou again.

I did not know whether I was Zhou dreaming that he was a butterfly or a

butterfly dreaming that it was Zhou. Between Zhou and a butterfly there

must be a distinction. This is called the transformation of things.

(Tran. Hyun Hochsmann and Yang Guorong)

This kind of paradox is common in Zhuangzi’s work. I think he is trying to indicate to us that our individual sense of reality could be arbitrary, and that all things are interconnected in a metaphysical, yet meaningful, way, or some mumbo jumbo like that.

Here is a selection of autumn poems.

涼しさは水よりふかし秋の空

宗祇

A profound coolness,

Makes the ocean seem shallow,

This sky in autumn.

Sōgi

Can be found here

この夕へまだ秋風の宿屋なき旅寝してゆく伊勢のはまをき

宗祇

In this lonely night,

Still the cool autumn wind blows.

With no place to sleep

I must make a humble camp

By the seashore at Ise.

Sōgi

秋の野の露分け衣ゆき帰り花に萎れぬ夕暮れそなき

宗祇

Can be found here

I cross autumn fields

In my dew-laden robes

On my return home.

Flowers woefully withered,

Evening has yet to arrive.

Sōgi

寂しさも身になれはてて山里は秋吹く風の夕暮れもなし

宗祇

Ahh, this loneliness,

I've come to my wit’s end,

In this mountain town,

The icy autumn wind blows

And evening has yet to fall.

Sōgi

Bishop Shinkei: Lotus Caught in a Wildfire

Shinkei

Shinkei, or Bishop Shinkei as he was also known as, lived from 1406 to 1475 A.D. He was a student of Shōtetsu and a fervent believer in the superiority of waka compared to the new trend in poetry at his time, renga. The end of his life was very tumultuous due to the Ōnin War (1467-1477).

That war was completely crazy and destructive. The war began over a dispute over who would be the next shogun after Ashikaga Yoshimasa. The details of the dispute are boring and uninteresting, but the effects of that war on Japan were dramatic. Kyoto was reduced to ashes and Japan remained in a state of civil war for about 100 years following the war. This period is known as the Sengoku Jidai, which translates to the Warring States Period. The war was so was debilitating to both sides that the entire shogunate disintegrated into several smaller states, and it wasn’t until Oda Nobunaga that Japan was again, at least partially, unified.

Shinkei, like his teacher Shōtetsu, was enamored with classical Japanese poetry and culture. He felt that the poets of the Heian period were the best, and the dilettante samurai poets of his day lacked real talent.

His poetry is idiosyncratic and cynical at times. He devoted some poetry to describe the grievances of his time, but most of his poetry followed the tried and true themes set down by his predecessor. He was also high-ranking in the Buddhist clergy, he was a “bishop” after all, so some of his poetry has a Buddhist ring to it.

Some of the poetry I translated is in waka form, but other poems are split as they would be for a renga sequence, meaning that they start with the 7-7 couplet. I did include a couple of his 5-7-5 hokku, which essentially are haiku, but unlike later haiku poetry, these weren’t meant to stand alone and were usually incorporated into a longer renga sequence.   

ふかき夜の梅のにほひに夢さめてこす巻きあへぬ軒の春風

心敬

Red Plum and Moon

In the depths of night

The sweet aroma of plum

Stirs me from my dreams.

I hadn’t even rolled the screen,

Spring’s powerful breeze through the eaves.

Shinkei

By “rolled the screen” he’s referring to a bamboo screen which would usually be unrolled in front of the window, similar to a curtain.

夢うつつともわかぬ曙

月に散る花はこの世のものならで

心敬

In the dawn light, I can’t parse

My dreams from reality.

In the moon’s dull glow,

Those scattering blossoms

Don’t belong to this world.

Shinkei

I like this poem because of its dreamy feel.

面影は春やむかしの空ながらわが身ひとつに霞む月かな

心敬

There’s hardly a trace,

Even if this sky of this spring

Seems to be the same

As those past, I’m just one man,

The moon has become hazy.

Shinkei

I had a hard time with this one and I found it kind of bizarre.  I feel like he is lamenting the time passing and the general degradation of the world around him.

Can be found here

風も目に見ぬ山のあまびこ

物事にただありなしを形にて

心敬

One can’t see the wind blowing,

Or the mountain’s echo.

For all things that be,

Whether they are or are not,

They look similar.

Shinkei

This is a very Buddhist poem. Basically, he is being pedagogical and saying that although we cannot see the wind or an echo, they still exist but also do not exist.

雲はなお定めある世の時雨かな

心敬

Dark clouds still above

Our already doomed world,

Will there be showers?

Shinkei

The prelude to this poem is about the Ōnin war.

Can be found here

紅葉朽ち朝霜白き汀かな

心敬

Leaves painted by fall

Rotting at the water’s edge.

Bright white morning frost.

Shinkei

無常

This one has some nice imagery.

わが心ただ花のみを幻とおもひわくれば乱れてぞちる

心敬

When I dwell on things,

Such as flowers and phantoms,

And how they differ,

My heart, all of a sudden,

Shatters into a million pieces.

Shinkei

I like this one a lot because I don’t really understand what it means.

Monk Tonna: The Guarded Wanderer

Monk Tonna

This next post is devoted to Monk Tonna. He lived from 1289-1372. During his life, the poetry world in Japan was split between the more conservative Nijō faction with the more liberal Kyōgoku-Tamekane faction. These rival factions arose because of their differing views on how to the poetic master Fujiwara no Teika. Pretty much all poets had to align themselves with one of these competing groups.

Tonna on the other hand had a different role model: Saigyō. Saigyō is definitely one of my favorite poets in history, and I believe the Tonna showed good taste in choosing him. Saigyō was a Buddhist monk who spent his time wandering around Japan, and Tonna tried to follow in his footsteps. Unfortunately, I don’t believe Tonna was as deep and profound as Saigyō was. Tonna adhered to the Nijō faction’s conservative guidelines which was definitely a prudent thing to do considering that the Nijō faction did dominate, but it shows to me that he lacked a backbone. He didn’t blaze his own trails as Saigyō did.

Nevertheless, he was a very gifted poet. His poetry has very strong sabi (loneliness) vibes to it, very Buddhist. Sometimes the poetry extolling the virtues and profundity of Buddhism can get on my nerves with its paradoxical platitudes, but Tonna effectively utilized natural imagery to convey his message. I think this adds depth.

Can be found here

宮城野の木の下闇に飛ぶ蛍露に勝りて影ぞ乱るる

頓阿

In the forest’s gloom

At the hill’s of Miyagi,

Fireflies dart about,

Outshining the drops of dew,

A cacophony of light.

Tonna

I like this poem because the image is both soothing and melancholy. There seems to me to be also an interesting juxtaposition. I usually expect dew to be present at dawn, and fireflies at dusk. So having them together makes me think that Tonna is trying to convey a deeper message. I cannot think of an explicit meaning, but perhaps he wanted us to meditate on something irrational (a fairly common practice by Zen monks) to broaden our minds.

雲消えてみどりに晴るる空見れば色こそ軈て虚しかりけれ

頓阿

The clouds have vanished,

The sky takes on a greenish hue,

And yet, when I look,

The deep color, before long,

Seems to fade into nothing.

Tonna

This poem has a strong Buddhist ring to it and I think the imagery of the sky adds a lot to it. I got a little confused with the color word he used. He used midori which literally means “green” but I’ve seen translations of this poem use “deep blue” which would make more sense since it is the sky. The Japanese have a weird relationship with the colors blue and green. The word for blue is aoi but it could also denote green, or some sort of blue-green. So I never really know what color they are referring to.

Dream

憂き身には思ひ出ぞなき敷島の道に忘れぬ昔ならでは

頓阿

Of my wretched life

I have no memory at all.

The elegant path,

The path of poetry

Alone, I’ve not forgotten.

Tonna

A bit cheesy I think.

Mt. Fuji

かぎりなき空もしられて富士のねの煙のうへにいづる月かげ

頓阿

In Fuji’s slumber

Smoke rises to distant heights,

Reaching and meeting

The light of the ascending moon.

Heaven truly has no bounds.

Tonna

I really like this poem’s imagery. The massiveness of the sky this poem displays sabi (loneliness) to instill in the reader a strong sense of worthlessness which would be necessary to understand a Buddhist perspective on the world. This perspective being that our individual lives are completely insignificant to the turning of the wheel of time (samsara), the cycle of birth and rebirth.

Or maybe he was just looking at Mt. Fuji.

Snipe

月宿る沢田の面にふす鴫の氷より立つ明方の空

頓阿

The moon has made house

In the marsh’s chilly water.

Rising from the ice

Weary snipes retreat to home,

As the sky glows bright with dawn.

Tonna

This poem does exemplify sabi but I don’t hear a Buddhist tone in it. It seems to be merely a nice, cold scene. Since those birds (snipes) are nocturnal, it makes sense they would return to their roost at dawn.

Kyogoku Tamekane: The Stubborn Sentimental

Can be found here

Kyōgoku Tamekane ( also known as Fujiwara no Tamekane) lived from 1254 to 1332 A.D. He was the grandson of Fujiwara no Teika and had a very strong personality. His life was tumultuous and lived a big chunk of his life in exile.

After the death of his grandfather, there was a split between his followers. Some considered Teika’s later, more conservative years to be the ones to emulate. They were known as the Nijō faction.

Kyōgoku Tamekane and his supporters felt that Teika’s earlier, more rebellious years were superior. In the end, the Nijō faction won out because of their political connections, and they controlled the content of the final ten imperial poetic anthologies.

Kyōgoku Tamekane was pushed to the margins, but he never gave up his belief that he was right. He suffered because of his irascibility and stubbornness (namely, exile), but his poetry is considered by most later scholars to be superior to the conservative Nijō faction. He was a sensitive and emotional man. His poetry reflects his love of natural beauty, and he liked to couple natural scenes with human sentimentality. His poetry was influential but not as respected as it should have been due to his refusal to back down to his more powerful adversaries. Overall, I consider him a kick-ass waka poet.

Can be found here

梅の花紅にほう夕暮れに柳靡きて春雨ぞ降る

京極為兼

Glowing bright crimson,

Those plum blossoms intrigue me.

Bending and yielding,

The willow sways back and forth

In the evening spring showers.

                                                         Kyōgoku Tamekane

This poem contains only natural imagery and he leaves the emotional content to the imagination.

枝にもる朝日の影のすくなさに涼しさふかき竹のおくかな

京極為兼

Drops of dawn sunshine

Leak through branches above,

Yet, only a few.

Such a profound coolness here...

Lost in the bamboo thicket.

Kyōgoku Tamekane

This is one of those poems that refreshes me, and lets me imagine myself relaxing underneath bamboo trees.

浪のうへにうつる夕日の影はあれど遠つ小島は色暮れにけり

京極為兼

Can be found here

The waning sunlight

Is reflected in the waves,

There’s a silhouette,

But, that far away island

Has been engulfed in darkness.

Kyōgoku Tamekane

沈みはつる入日のきはにあらはれぬ霞める山のなほ奥の峰

京極為兼

As the evening sun

Sinks ever so slowly,

In the distance

Yet another lonely peak

Appears in the hazy hills.

Kyōgoku Tamekane

Can be found here

さびしさもしばしは思ひ忍べどもなほ松風のうすくれの空

京極為兼

In my loneliness

Sentiments of love appear

Only for a moment,

The pines rustle in the wind

Under the pinkish sky.

Kyōgoku Tamekane

I like this poem because there is no obvious connection between the two parts. I like how he combines a natural scene with a fleeting emotion. 

Nijō Yoshimoto: The Grand Father of Renga

Nijō Yoshimoto

My last post was about Takayama Sōzei, and I wrongly referred to him as “one of the founding fathers” of renga. I made this mistake because in my most trusted source, “Traditional Japanese Poetry” by Steven Carter, Steven neglected to mention that Nijō Yoshimoto (1320-1388 A.D.) was actually the first poet to compile a collection of renga.

He probably didn’t feel the need to mention it because of his disdain for the Nijō faction which dominated Japanese poetry after the death of Fujiwara no Teika. Japanese poetry in the medieval period can be described as pre-Teika and post-Teika. He was a very important figure, and after his death there was much discord among his followers. Two main factions emerged: the Nijō school and Kyōgoku Tamekane’s school. According to Steven, the majority of scholars nowadays consider Kyōgoku Tamekane’s school to have produced better poetry, however, the Nijō school had the edge in terms of political power. Therefore, almost all the poetry anthologies of this period were compiled by those from the Nijō school. The major difference between the two was the Nijō school was more conservative and its followers thought that Teika’s later years were what they should emulate. The Kyōgoku Tamekane school on the other hand, thought that Teika’s younger, rebellious years were of more importance.

Nijō Yoshimoto was a scholar and a poet from a privileged background. It seems that he had a passion for renga, but also wrote tanka. The first couple tanka I translated below are from the Shingoshūiwakashū which was an imperial anthology compiled in the 14^th century. After that I translated an excerpt from the Tsukubashū which he edited himself, and is the first renga anthology ever compiled (officially...that we know of...).

春といへばやがて霞のなかにおつる妹背の川も氷とくらし

二条良基

When spring’s upon us,

Haze will float down the center

Of Imose river.

It seems that the winter’s ice

Has begun to melt away.

Nijō Yoshimoto

The Imose river did confuse me a bit and after further research, thanks to the investigation of Mootori Norinaga who investigated this back in the 18^th century, I found out that there is no Imose river. It comes from a poem in the Man’yōshū, which is one of the oldest poetry compilations in the Japanese tradition. The poem goes: “I crossed Mt. Imo and Mt. Se”, so we can infer that Imose river is the river that lies in between these two mountains. Nijō could be merely referencing the older poem to show off how learned he is.

Imose could also be a play on words. The first kanji is  妹(imo) which means young girl, but I think could also be an archaic way to say “wife”. The second kanji is 背(se) which can mean height or stature, but could also mean “husband”. So it could be the river that runs between “Mt. Husband” and “Mt. Wife” which add some sexual innuendo to the poem.

Can be found here

降りかかる梢の雪の朝あけにくれなゐうすき梅のはつ花

二条良基

In the early dawn,

Clouds dwelling in the treetops,

Descend upon us,

The first plum blossoms this year

Glimmer with subtle crimson.

Nijō Yoshimoto

のどかなる春のまつりの花しづめ風をさまれとなほ祈るらし

二条良基

On a bright, calm day

During a spring festival,

Blossoms shine bright, and

When the wind is at peace

I will bow my head and pray.

Nijō Yoshimoto

Aside from the poem’s religiosity, it has a some nice wordplay. I like the line “kaze wo samare to” because samare comes from the verb osamaru which means “to be at peace” or “lessen”. I assume that the obvious translation would be “when the wind lessens”, but considering how inclusive the Shinto religion is with nature, I thought I would personify the wind.

-Note: This poem comes from Shinshūiwakashū.

The following is an excerpt from the Tsukubashū. It’s also spring themed.

山かげしるき雪のむら消え

For those who dwell in the shade

Of the mountain, vanish snow!

あらたまの年の越えくる道なれや

Joy to the new spring!

Another year has come and gone,

That’s the way things.

Asama Mountain

たえぬ煙と立ちのぼるかな

Smoke rises high in the sky

Even though the fire went out.

春はまだ淺間の岳のうす霞

Spring’s yet to arrive,

There is only a light haze

At Asama Mountain.

<>

山の梶井坊にて百韻連歌侍りけるに

In the mountain dwelling of Kajii, they begin a new renga sequence:

なほもこほるは志賀のうら波

The wave breakers at Shiga

Still now, are frozen over.

雪間より道ある山となりぬるに

Patches of grass in the snow

Seem a more suitable path,

Than the icy mountain road.

Takayama Sōzei: Renga from the Ashes

By the time of the Ashikaga Shogunate (1336-1573 A.D.), Japanese poetry was in a period of regression. Composition of tanka (5-7-5-7-7), akin to what we saw from the Heian period and the Kamakura Shogunate was not being genuinely pursued. There were aristocrats still producing poetry that was reminiscent of this period, but, with the exception of Shōtetsu and perhaps a few others, the poetry was mediocre.

Can be found here

During this dearth of creativity arose a new form of composing poetry: renga. To one who is unfamiliar with all this jargon renga actually looks a lot like tanka. Renga is “linked verse” and consist of two parts. The first part is called a hokku and has a 5-7-5 syllable structure and it is followed by a 7-7 couplet. When read it all together it looks exactly like a tanka. For those of you paying attention, the hokku is the same as a haiku. The art of haiku came from renga, but was not popularized until a few hundred years later.

The reason why renga was novel and interesting was that people would compose poetry together. No longer were poems static pieces of text attributable to only one person, but instead they became a cooperative work of literary art. One person would write a hokku and then another would cap it with a couplet. And then somebody else could stick another hokku after the couplet so that the couplet worked with both, and so on, and so on. There were all kinds of rules about what kind of language can be used, and how often a topic can be repeated. But most important rule was that the poetic sequence had coherence. Sometimes people would take previously used hokku and attach a completely different couplet to it; changing the meaning entirely.

Can be found here

People interested in this kind of thing would get together for poetry gatherings and have a blast. It seems to me that most of the poets of this time were either samurai sensitive to aesthetics, or Buddhist monks who probably had nothing better to do.

The guy I want to talk about today is Takayama Sōzei (d. 1455 A.D.). He was a military man who studied under Shōtetsu and was one of the founding fathers of medieval renga (there was another guy by the name of Nijō Yoshimoto who could probably be considered the founding father, I will address him later). After the death of Nijō Yoshimoto renga fell into decline. Sōzei revitalized the art. He was a versatile poet who could write with a sense of miyabi (courtly charm), ushin (unapologetic pathos), and the Buddhist concept of sabi (loneliness). Most importantly, he was renga poet, which means he was adept at adding depth to someone else’s poetic fragment.

Unfortunately, I could not find much of his poetry, and what I found was already put together like a tanka. I am not even sure if he wrote both parts. Soon I will translate some transcripts for the more famous poetic gatherings.

Japanese Pampas Grass

野里の秋の暮れの寂しき

招くとも薄がもとは誰かこん

高山宗砌

Autumn in the countryside,

How lonely is the sunset!

Patches of pampas grass,

You beckon all to you, yet

Who’ll come and visit?

Takayama Sōzei

As you can see form this poem, the 7-7 couplet comes before the 5-7-5 hokku. The initial couplet has a strong element of sabi combined with the feeling of being in a new places, which makes me think of Saigyō, since he was always travelling. The hokku utilizes the kigo (seasonal word) of pampas grass, susuki in Japanese. Susuki is always associated with autumn so there is an obvious convergence between the couplet and hokku.

Can be found here

見れば雪降り月ぞ残れる

あけにけりきのうの夢は蹟もなし

高山宗砌

I can see the snow falling,

The moon remains in the sky,

A new day has come,

There’s not a trace in my mind

Of yesterday’s dreams.

Takayama Sōzei

I like this poem a lot because I think it creates a nice scene.

This last poem is just the hokku, so in essence, it is a haiku.

散音は時雨に返す紅葉かな

高山宗砌

Bright rustling leaves

Contrast the dreary showers

Of waning autumn.

Takayama Sōzei

This hokku was difficult to translate and I am not sure I got the main verb “kaesu” right. I do like the juxtaposition of shigure (late autumnal showers) and momiji (leaves changing to their fall color). He used seasonal words from the beginning and end of autumn. It’s a nice contrast.

Secretary Shotetsu: Diamond in the Rough

Shōtetsu, or Secretary Shōtetsu, lived from 1381-1459 A.D. By this time, traditional tanka (poems with a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable structure) were in the muck of creative stagnation. The great visionaries of Ki no Tsurayuki and Fujiwara no Teika seemed like ancient history. Most tanka poets of this time were pretty uninspiring.

Can be found here

The beginning of the Kamakura Shogunate and the collapse of the Heian aristocracy was a period of transition, and the strife inspired great creativity, most notably, Teika and Saigyō. After the new shogun fully established his power, traditional literary arts degenerated because of mediocre, factional discord by aristocrats lost in existential anxiety, trying harder to ingratiate themselves with the new samurai authority rather than producing real works of art. After the Kamakura Shogunate collapsed due to infighting among the samurai clans, the Ashikaga Shogunate arose. It was a short-lived feudal system in which the shoguns further weakened the aristocracy and royal family in Kyoto.

Shōtetsu was a diamond in the rough. He was classically trained and considered Teika to be the best of the best (I would agree). "In this art of poetry, those who speak ill of Teika should be denied the protection of the gods and Buddhas and condemned to the punishments of hell.", he went as far to say. He composed thousands of poems which contained rhetorical complexity as well as the poetic concepts yūgen (deep, subtle profundity) and ushin (less subtle, but more heartfelt). Shōtetsu can be easily overlooked because his style of waka was dated in his time. However, his students Takayama Sōzei and Bishop Shinkei set the stage for the next evolution in the Japanese poetic tradition: renga (linked verse).

色に吹け草木も春を知らぬまの人の心の花の初風

正徹

Let the wind blow

With color and vibrancy!

So the grass may know,

That the hearts of men can feel

Spring’s first perfumed breeze.

Shōtetsu

This poem has some nice, fantastical imagery, such as the wind blowing with color. In the last line Shōtetsu writes “hana no hatsukaze” which literally means the “flower’s first wind”. In this case, since spring is mentioned before, I assume he is referring to the scent of newly bloomed flowers carried by the wind that marks the beginning of spring.

I think most people can relate to this. When winter is coming to an end (if you live in temperate place) there is usually one day when you hear the birds chirping again or catch the scent of a flower, and you realize that spring is finally here.

咲けば散る夜の間の花の夢の家に軈てまぎれぬ峰の白雲

Can be found here

正徹

Blossoms at morning

Scattering amid moonlight.

In the realm of dreams

One may mistakenly see

Silver clouds floating on high.

 Shōtetsu

This poem’s dreamy setting harks back to the old poetry of the of the Heian Period and before. Dream images and the dream world were used frequently by earlier poets to express anxiety or passion in regards to romance. In this case, Shōtetsu created a witty conundrum. Do the blossoms that fall from the trees at night enter people’s dream as beautiful clouds?  

The next three poems are set in a place called Kumano which is Wakayama prefecture. It is a mountainous region on Kii peninsula, south of Osaka and Kyoto. It is considered a holy place and there are three very famous shrines there called the Kumano Sanzan. They all correspond to different mountains. This all very in tune with Shinto religion putting special emphasis on natural phenomena and land formations.

I had some trouble with the next few poems but I think they turned out alright. They were relatively simple.

我が心乱れし果やみくまのの苔地くるしき露を分くらん

正徹

Kumano

My heart, in disarray,

Vexations within myself

Make the moss feel rough,

I tread only on the dew,

In the peaks of Kumano.

Shōtetsu

雲のみぞとふとも余所にみくまのの峰の苔路をはらふ嵐に

正徹

Clouds betwixt the peaks,

Long ago resided elsewhere.

The moss covered path

Cleared by a spring tempest,

The mountains of Kumano.

Shōtetsu

御熊野や浜ゆふならぬしめ縄もいくへにかけて君を祈らん

正徹

Crinum Japnonicum

There’re no crinum left

On the shore at Kumano.

Yet, the sacred rope

Will remain, everlasting,

For you let us pray.

Shōtetsu

Crinum is a flower that blooms by the sea. It is supposedly very sensitive and will only bloom if the exact prerequisites are met. It can go years without blooming, so it was perhaps kind of rare to see it.

The “sacred rope” the poem mentions (in Japanese: “shimenawa”) which my dictionary translates to “rope used to cordon off consecrated areas as a talisman against evil” which was hard to fit into a poem of only 31 syllables, so I translated it as “sacred rope”.

Whether the “you” is referring to a person or shrine is unclear, but I think he’s talking about a Shinto shrine due to the natural imagery.