Princess Shikishi

Princess Shikishi or Shokushi (式子内親王, Shikishi/Shokushi Naishinnō) (1149 – March 1, 1201) was a Japanese classical poet, who lived during the late Heian and early Kamakura periods.

During her lifetime, Japan saw turbulent times like the Hōgen and Heiji rebellions of 1156 and 1159, respectively, which involved competing samurai clans vying for political power.

As saiin, Shikishi would have lived near the capital, and her large number of attendants provided ample company; however, this career came with many restrictions and the government policies at the time made it difficult for princesses to marry.

Around 1181, Shikishi became acquainted with Fujiwara no Shunzei, a famous poet of the time with whom she may have studied, and developed a friendship with his son Teika.

Much of Shikishi's poetry contains a tone of saddened longing, which has led some to believe she dealt with unrequited or unattainable love.

For example, one of Shikishi's tanka reads: 春くれば心もとけて泡雪の     あはれふりゆく身をしらぬかな haru kureba kokoro mo tokete awayuki noaware furiyuku mi o shiranu ka naAs spring comes my heart melts, and I forget how like the soft snow I go on fadingIn this poem, the segment furu of the word furiyuku means “to fall (like snow)” and also “to grow old”.

Another more content-based technique that appears in Shikishi's writing is honka-dori, the taking of a passage by another poet and incorporating it into one's own work, without acknowledgement.

Also, within Chinese methods of poetry writing which influenced Japanese poets, including someone else's work within one's own was seen as a tribute paid to another author, not an act of stealing.

春もまづしるくみゆるは音羽山     峰の雪より出づる日の色 haru mo mazu shiruku miyuru wa Otowa-yamamine no yuki yori izuru hi no iroIn spring too what first stands out is Mount Otowa: from the snow at its peak sunrays appear鶯はまだ声せねど岩そそぐ     垂水の音に春ぞ聞こゆる uguisu wa mada koe senedo iwa sosogutarumi no oto ni haru zo kikoyuruThough warblers have not called, in the sound of cascades pouring down the rocks spring is heard色つぼむ梅の木の間の夕月夜     春の光をみせそむるかな iro tsubomu ume no konoma no yūzukuyoharu no hikari o misesomuru ka naThrough a bud-tinted plum tree the evening moon begins to show light of spring見渡せばこのもかのもにかけてけり     まだ緯うすき春の衣を miwataseba kono mo kano mo ni kaketekerimada nuki usuki haru no koromo oAs I look around, now here, now there, it's covered with spring robes, their woof feeble stillあと絶えていくへも霞め深く我が     世をうぢ山の奧の麓に ato taete ikue mo kasume fukaku wagayo o Ujiyama no oku no fumoto niIsolate my life, seclude it with layers of haze, deeply, at the food of the Hill of Gloom春ぞかし思ふばかりにうち霞     めぐむ梢ぞながめられける haru zo kashi omou bakari ni uchi kasumimegumu kozue zo nagamerarekeruIt's spring: to my heart's content I gaze at the treetops shrouded in haze and budding消えやらぬ雪に果つるる梅が枝の     初花染めの置くそゆかしき kieyaranu yuki ni hatsururu umegae nohatsuhana-zome no oku zo yukashikiOpening on plum twigs in unfaded snow, the first blossoms for dyeing bring back the past誰が里の梅の辺りに触れつらむ     移り香知るき人の袖かな ta ga sato no ume no atari ni furetsuranutsuri ka shiruki hito no sode ka naIn whose abode did they touch plum blossoms?

Are the clouds cherry, the blossoms white snow?花咲きし尾上は知らず春霞     千種の色の消ゆる頃かな hana sakishi onoe wa shirazu harugasumichigusa no iro no kiyuru koro ka naI do not know about hilltops with cherry in bloom; now in spring haze a thousand hues fade春風やまやの軒端を過ぎぬらむ     ふりつむ雪のかをる手枕 harukaze ya maya no nokiba o suginuranfuritsumu yuki no kaoru tamakuraA spring breeze must have passed the gable eaves: the accumulated snow fragrant where I lie残り行く有明の月の漏る影に     ほのぼの落つる葉隠れの花 nokori yuku ariake no tsuki no moru kage nihonobono otsuru hagakure no hanaIn the moonlight remaining after daybreak, faintly falling blossoms hidden among leaves鶯も物憂く春は呉竹の     夜離れにけりな宿も寂しく uguisu mo monouku haru wa kuretake noyogarenikeri na yado mo sabishikuWarblers, too, wearied as spring ends; no more visits at night and my house is desolate故郷へ今はと向かふ雁が音も     別るる雲の曙の色 furusato e ima wa to mukau karigane mowakaruru kumo no akebono no iroThe geese, now heading for home, can't help saying farewell to the clouds aglow at dawnけふのみと霞の色も立ち別れ     春は入り日の山の端の影 kyō nomi to kasumi no iro mo tachiwakareharu wa irihi no yama no ha no kageToday's the last; haze with its hues rises and parts, spring at sunset in the hilltop skyA few of her other poems, not included in Sequences A, B, or C: After resigning the vestal’s post at Kamo, on the Day of the Sacred Tree during the festival someone brought her a gift of aoi to offer her.

She wrote on it: 神山の麓になれし葵草     引き別れても年ぞへにける kamiyama no fumoto ni nareshi aoigusahikiwakarete mo toshi zo henikeruAt the foot of the god's hills I grew used to aoi; since I parted with it years have passed(Senzai Wakashū 3:147)Among the poems on “Love”: しるらめや心は人に月草の     そめのみまさるおもひありとは shirurame ya kokoro wa hito ni tsukigusa nosome no mimaseru omoi ari to waDoes he know: some thoughts, like dayflowers, cling to someone and intensify in color?

Like the waves beating on the beach, I, in unknown love, am shattering myself(Shokugosen Wakashū 11:649)Among the “Miscellaneous” poems: 筆の跡に過ぎにしことをとどめずは     知らぬ昔にいかであはまし fude no ato ni suginishi koto o todomezu washiranu mukashi ni ika de awamashiIf no one kept what passes in traces of a brush, how could we meet the unknown past?