One Poem, One Encounter [February 17] The patchy melting of the snow, where the traces are still visible upon the young grasses of the field, in shades of light and dark (Go-Toba-in no Kunaikyo / Shin Kokin Wakashu)

When you think of waka poetry, don't you often get the impression that it is 'sticky' or overly emotional, filled with the bitterness of love or the laments of old age? Of course, that is part of the charm of waka, but there are times when you just want to breathe in some fresh, lively air, aren't there?

What I would like to introduce today is a poem that is free from such emotional weight, one that is purely and simply refreshing. The author is the young genius poet of the Shin Kokin era, Go-Toba-in no Kunaikyo.

[Modern Translation] The young grasses of the field have sprouted in various shades of light and dark green. The spring snow is melting in patches, leaving traces so clear that one can tell exactly where the snow had covered the ground just moments ago.

The freshness of the spring thaw and the lively, pleasant atmosphere come through clearly. It feels like a refreshing poem in a purely 'sketch-like' style, as if captured through a camera lens.

At first glance, the upper phrase, 'The young grasses of the field, in shades of light and dark,' which depicts such fresh colors, leaves a strong impression. However, the true brilliance of this poem, the core of the piece, lies in the expression 'patchy melting of the snow' in the lower phrase.

Read it carefully. Looking out at the field in early spring, what she is actually seeing is the 'young grasses in different shades of light and dark green' from the upper phrase. From there, she finds beauty in the 'patchy melting of the snow'—that is, the subtle timing of the snow's disappearance.

From the light and shade of the grasses before her, she brings to light the invisible flow of time. This genius perspective is the true charm of this poem.

Because of this magnificent poem, she was praised by the people of her time as the 'Kunaikyo of the Young Grasses.' She was truly a new talent that had sprouted in the world of waka. Cruelly, however, she passed away fleetingly at the young age of around twenty, while still possessing that talent as fresh as the young grass.

The great Fujiwara no Teika did not include the poems of the highly talented Kunaikyo in his 'Hyakunin Isshu.' For Teika, who valued 'heart (ushin)' in waka, this purely sketch-like poem by Kunaikyo might have been a little outside his aesthetic.

The new style of waka that Kunaikyo challenged entered a long hibernation after her. It would not be until the appearance of the 'Kyogoku school' (Gyokuyo Wakashu, Fuga Wakashu)—a group of heretical poets in the late Kamakura period—that such 'sketching' would sprout again in the world of waka.

Teika's eye for selection is certainly great, but I still love this poem by Kunaikyo immensely. It is a poem I remember every time I look at the fields in early spring.