For centuries, Japanese poets have composed verse about the country’s oceans and mountains, the sun and moon, the swirl of air that makes us notice the changing of seasons. Many tanka — classic Japanese short poems — are based on real-life locations that generated a burst of profound, often melancholic emotion. Though centuries have passed and the terrain may look slightly different, the nature and temples that inspired these songs can still be seen today.
Take a journey across Japan, throughout the four seasons, with a selection of celebrated tanka. Perhaps you’ll feel inspired to visit these places, or simply to notice the subtle joys of nature that we often take for granted.
Spring: Dazaifu Tenmangu Shrine, Dazaifu
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 nihohi okoseyo ume no hana aruji nashi tote haru na wasureso
Ume blossoms — if an east wind blows, send with it your fragrance. Even in my absence, please don’t forget spring. — Sugawara no Michizane
Sugawara no Michizane was a scholar, courtier and poet of the Heian period, who was essentially banished from the Imperial Court of Kyoto to rural Dazaifu, located on the outskirts of modern-day Fukuoka on the island of Kyushu, after being accused of wrongdoing. He died just a few years after being sent away, but his innocence was proved posthumously, cementing his reputation in history as a cultural hero. After death, he was deified as Tenjin. Today, there are around 12,000 shrines to Tenjin in Japan.
Sugawara no Michizane was known as a great lover of flowers, and this poem was written before his exile, as he bid goodbye to the fragrant ume (Japanese plum trees) at his home’s garden in Kyoto, asking them one final favor: to continue blooming, so the winds could carry their fragrance to him. According to legend, one tree was so moved that it flew to Kyushu to be with its master. If you visit Dazaifu Tenmangu Shrine, you can see the legendary tobiume (flying ume) — located on the site of the poet’s grave — alongside around 6,000 other trees that bear the blossoms he cherished so much.
Summer: Mount Amanokagu, Kashihara
春すぎて 夏来にけらし 白妙の 衣ほすてふ 天の香具山
Haru sugite natsu ki ni kerashi shiro tahe no koromo hosu tefu amanokaguyama
Spring has slipped away, yielding to summer; on the slopes of the celestial Mount Kagu, white robes are laid out to dry. — Empress Jito
This is the second poem in the Hyakunin Isshu (an anthology of 100 Japanese poems by 100 poets). In it, Empress Jito — who held power in Japan from 686 to 697 — describes Kashihara’s Mount Kagu, one-third of the Three Mountains of Yamato, which are renowned for their beauty.
Said to have descended from the sky, Mount Kagu is a holy mountain, referred to as Amanokaguyama (“Mount Kagu of the heavens”). Empress Jito would have been able to admire it from her home in the imperial capital of the day, Fujiwara-kyo. At the time, the smooth transition between seasons signified a successful imperial rule; watching the crisp, white robes contrast against the lush green of the mountains, the empress celebrates the vibrant arrival of summer.
Autumn: Mount Ogura, Kyoto
小倉山 峰のもみぢ葉 心あらば 今ひとたびの みゆき待たなむ
Ogurayama mine no momiji ha kokoro araba ima hitotabi no miyuki mata namu
Oh, Mount Ogura, the maple leaves at your peak. If you have a heart, please wait until the next imperial visit before you fall. — Fujiwara no Tadahira
Fujiwara no Tadahira, referred to after his death as Teishin-ko (“lord upright and faithful”), was a statesman during the Heian period. He would have been serving Emperor Daigo, Japan’s 60th emperor, at the time this tanka was written. In it, he admires Mount Ogura, located northwest of Kyoto city.
The mountain is known as an incredible spot for fall foliage viewing, and the kindhearted Fujiwara no Tadahira wishes for the autumnal leaves to linger just a little longer so that his emperor can witness them.
Winter: Tago Bay, Shizuoka
田子の浦に うちいでてみれば 白妙の 富士の高嶺に 雪は降りつつ
Tago no ura ni uchi idete mireba shirotahe no fuji no takane ni yuki wa furitsutsu
Stepping out onto the shore of Tago Bay, I saw Fuji, peak mantled in white, under the steady fall of snow. — Yamabe no Akahito
Yamabe no Akahito is considered one of the greatest court poets of the Nara period; he wrote and performed tanka such as this one for the emperor and his family. This tanka barely needs an introduction, depicting as it does one of Japan’s most iconic vistas: snow-capped Fuji. One can imagine Yamabe no Akahito, looking up to see Japan’s highest mountain from Shizuoka’s Tago Bay on a cold winter’s day, awestruck by how snowfall had transformed it.
The view of Mount Fuji from Tago Bay has also appeared in an iconic woodblock print by Hokusai; it’s easy to imagine the ukiyo-e work is a response — whether conscious or not — to Yamabe no Akahito’s lyrics, an echoed reverence of one of Japan’s most remarkable sights.
