31-03-2025
Attempting the classics: The world of waka poetry
They are the words you're bound to hear at graduation ceremonies and sporting events: 君が代は、千代に八千代に、さざれ石の、巌となりて、苔のむすまで (Kimi ga yo wa, chiyo ni yachiyo ni, sazare ishi no, iwa to narite, koke no musu made). And though no official translation of the Japanese national anthem, '君が代' ('Kimigayo'), exists, a literal attempt might be 'O, may your reign go on, for a thousand years and thousands more years, until what now are pebbles, form great boulders, grown over with moss.'
The anthem is one of the shortest in the world, and that is because its single verse constitutes a 和歌 (waka) poem. 和歌 are some of Japan's most enduring pieces of culture. To be able to read and understand them is to not only have access to incredible works of art but also to reach into the dawn of Japanese history and feel just as the artists and poets of yore once lived and loved.
At first glance, analyzing 和歌 may seem like an intimidating task because of their use of 古文 (kobun, classical Japanese) — the language as it was spoken and written more than a thousand years ago. While a lot of words and kanji are mutually intelligible with modern Japanese, grammatical forms can differ drastically, making 古文 a challenge for even fluent speakers of the language.
Fortunately, to be able to read and enjoy 和歌 isn't as difficult as mastering 文語 (bungo, written literary language). With a few hacks, it turns out that 和歌 can be for everyone.
The origins of 和歌 stretch back to at least the seventh century. Nukata no Okimi, the wife of one of the emperors around this time, composed 和歌 at court ceremonies. Old poems included in the eighth-century 古事記 (Kojiki, Record of Ancient Matters) are also often credited as 和歌.
These poems differentiate themselves from 漢詩 (kanshi), which are poems composed in the Chinese classical style by Japanese court poets, by using 大和言葉 (Yamato kotoba), which are words of Japanese origin. The power of China's Tang Dynasty (618-907) was waning as literary culture began to flourish in ancient Japan, leading poets here to turn inward to native styles of poetic expression. By the early Heian Period (794-1185), 和歌 had become the dominant form of poetry, playing a central role in court life, art and even politics. The ability to compose and recite 和歌 was more than an artistic talent — it was a gateway to knowledge and cultural refinement, first among the elite and later among the common people.
What exactly is a 和歌? As a forerunner to the more widely known 俳句 (haiku, haiku) style of poetry, certain features may sound familiar: The syllabic rhythmic structure of 5-7-5-7-7 went on to be used in modern
短歌 (tanka) poems (a shortened 5-7-5 structure would come to define 俳句). The 31 syllables are centered around what scholar Earl Miner (1927-2004) described as an 'occasion' or 題 (dai): a real or fictional event that happened and occasioned the writing of poetry. Examples of such 題 include a court festival, the viewing of flowers or autumn leaves, or even a moonlit journey to the home of a lover.
Consider one of the most famous 和歌, written by the legendary Sugawara no Michizane (845-903): 東風吹かば、にほひおこせよ、梅の花、主なしとて、春な忘れそ (Kochi fukaba, nioi okoseyo, ume no hana, aruji nashitote, haru na wasureso, When the east wind blows, send me your scent, plum blossoms. You may have lost your master, but do not forget the spring). This poem is tied to a specific 題 in that Michizane was banished from the imperial court of Kyoto to Dazaifu, Fukuoka Prefecture, forcing him to leave behind his beloved 梅の木 (ume no ki, plum tree). Legend tells it that after this heart-wrenching poem was written, the plum tree itself went flying all the way to Kyushu to join him.
Readers must become accustomed to differences from current Japanese, such as the use of different kana — ほ (ho) and ひ (hi) instead of お (o) and い (i) — in the word におい (nioi, smell/scent), and 吹かば (fukaba, when [it] blows) instead of the modern conditional form, 吹けば (fukeba). Aiding the modern reader, however, are familiar kanji such as 東風 (kochi, east wind), 梅の花 (ume no hana, plum flowers) and 春 (haru, spring).
Common subjects for 和歌 include the 四季 (shiki, four seasons), wishes for longevity and prosperity, romantic love and travels across Japan. 和歌 often include technical poetic devices, such as 掛け言葉 (kakekotoba, pivot words) that make use of homonyms in the language. By using a word that sounds like it could have multiple meanings — such as まつ, which can mean 'pine tree' (松) and 'to wait' (待つ), or ふる, which can mean 'to fall' (降る) and 'old' (古) — 掛け言葉 richly layer a poem with multiple meanings.
As is the case with other publications of classical Japanese writings, modern books do everything they can to help readers plumb the depths of 和歌. This would include the 1996 Shogakukan edition of the '万葉集' ('Manyōshū'), the oldest-known anthology of Japanese poetry, which was compiled sometime after 749. Any first glance at a page in one of these sorts of collections may seem overwhelming. Take poem #496, written by poet Kakinomoto no Hitomaro: み熊野の、浦の浜木綿、百重なす、心は思へど、ただに逢はぬかも (Mikumano no, ura no hamayufu, momohe nasu, kokoro wa omohedo, tadani awanu kamo, Like faraway Kumano's, back-inlet lilies, in countless folds, my heart yearns, yet still we cannot meet). Between place names like み熊野 (Mikumano, Kumano), unfamiliar flowers like 浜木綿 (hamayūmen, crinum lily), and strange grammar like 思へど and なす, it's not the easiest poem to penetrate.
But right above the poem, we get comprehensive 注釈 (chūshaku, annotations) giving us important information. They explain that み is an honorific and み熊野 refers to what is today 熊野 in Wakayama Prefecture; that 浜木綿 is a flower species related to the spider lily; that なす means のように (no yō ni, like... /as if...), and so on. Then below the original poem, we get a 現代語訳 (gendai goyaku, modern translation) into standard Japanese, laying out the meaning nice and clear.
But even with a toolkit to grasp the surface-level meaning of the poem, there are more layers of the poem. Is the comparison of 'my heart' to the flower itself, or to the weaving of the 浦 (ura, inlets) of remote Kumano? うら, after all, is a 掛け言葉 that means both 'inlet/seashore' and 'back/underside.' And what is the symbolism of the 浜木綿?
Still, all of these depths are easily accessible thanks to 注釈 and 現代語訳. There are also easy-to-read books like the '百人一首 解剖図鑑' ('Hyakunin isshu kaibō zukan,' 'Anatomical Field Guide to the 'Hyakunin Isshu''), which breaks down everything there is to know about one hundred of the most famous 和歌 with fun illustrations and charts.
Next time the national anthem plays, you'll be just a little closer to the ancient spirit of Japan. やはり、和歌は誰でも楽しめるものだ (Yahari, waka wa dare demo tanoshimeru mono da, Waka is something everyone can enjoy after all).
