The Hundred Poets, Part III

	Number: 67 Poet: Lady Suô-no-naishi Scene: A young nobleman peers and beckons through bamboo blinds to the seated poetess and her maid Robinson: S19.67 The poem translates: If I lay my head Upon his arm in the dark Of a short spring night, This innocent dream pillow Will be the death of my good name.
	Number: 69 Poet: Nôin-hôshi (The Monk Noin) Scene: A group of travelers is caught in a downpour Robinson: S19.69 The poem translates: By the wind storm's blast From Mimuro's mountain slopes Maples leaves are torn, Which turn Tatsuta River Into a rich brocade.
	A careful inspection of the grass or script on this print will demonstrate that it is identical to the above print. This proves that that they were printed from the same woodblocks. However, this print lacks the delicately shaded transition (bokashi) between the upper and middle thirds seen on the above print. Bokashi was achieved by hand-applying a gradation of ink to the wooden printing block rather than inking the block uniformly. Since this hand-application had to be repeated for each sheet of paper that was printed, this state is a less labor intensive printing, which almost invariably means a later edition.
	This represents yet another state of the same print. It not only lacks the delicately shaded transition (bokashi) between the upper and middle thirds, but also was printed without the use of green ink. It has two different shades of blue, which could represent either two different blue inks, or a double application of the same ink to those areas that were green in the above prints. This print also shows evidence of wear or chips in the wooden block that was used to print the black lines (key block). This is best seen in the left lower corner where the black line surrounding the entire image shows wear not present in the above two prints.
	Number: 70 Poet: Ryôzen-hôshi (The Monk Ryosen) Scene: A fellow traveler on the shore of a lake pointing out features of the landscape to Ryôzen-hôshi Robinson: S19.70 The poem translates: In my loneliness I leave my little hut. When I look around, Everywhere it is the same: One lone, darkening autumn eve.
	Number: 71 Poet: Dainagon Tsunenobu (Minamoto no Tsunenobu) Scene: Dainagon Tsunenobu at the window of his study sees an apparition howling out a poem Robinson: S19.71 NOTE: This print is incorrectly numbered 72 in the left lower margin. The poem translates: When the evening comes, From the rice leaves at my gate, Gentle knocks are heard, And, into my round rush-hut, Enters autumn's roaming breeze.
	This is another state of the above print. It is a less labor intensive printing than the above, which almost invariably means a later edition. The shading (bokashi) in the apparition’s body is minimal, and the woodblock used to print the poem spewing out of the apparition’s mouth was omitted. Bokashi was achieved by hand-applying a gradation of ink to the wooden printing block rather than inking the block uniformly. This hand-application had to be repeated for each sheet of paper that was printed. However, a careful comparison of some fine detail demonstrates that they are identical, proving that both prints were printed from the same woodblocks.
	Number: 72 Poet: Lady Yûshi-naishinnôke Kii Scene: The poetess is standing on a rocky cliff overlooking the sea Robinson: S19.72 NOTE: This print is incorrectly numbered 70 in the left lower margin. The poem translates: Famous are the waves That break on Takashi beach In noisy arrogance. If I should go near that shore. I would only wet my sleeves.
	Number: 74 Poet: Minamoto no Toshiyori Ason Scene: A young woman is standing with a baby on her back and a girl with an umbrella by her side. Cherry blossoms are seen on a mountain beyond the mist. Robinson: S19.74 NOTE: Although the margin has been cut off this impression, the print is incorrectly numbered 72. The poem translates: It was not for this I prayed at the holy shrine: That she would become As pitiless and as cold As the storms on Hase's hills.
	Number: 77 Poet: Emperor Sutoku-in Scene: The ghost of Emperor Sutoku-in invoking a thunder storm Robinson: S19.77 The poem translates: Though a swift stream is Divided by a boulder In its headlong flow, Though divided, on it rushes, And at last unites again.
	Number: 78 Poet: Minamoto no Kanemasa Scene: Minamoto no Kanemasa with a page at a palace window overlooking the sea Robinson: S19.78 The poem translates: Guard of Suma Gate, From your sleep, how many nights Have you awakened At the cries of sanderlings, Flying from Awaji Island?
	Number: 79 Poet: Sakyô-no-dayû Akisuke Scene: Sakyô-no-dayû Akisuke standing on a palace veranda on a windy moonlit night Robinson: S19.79 The poem translates: See how clear and bright Is the moonlight finding ways Through the riven clouds That, with drifting autumn wind, Gracefully float in the sky.
No image available	Number: 81 Poet: Go-tokudaiji Sadaijin (Fujiwara no Sanesada) Scene: Go-tokudaiji Sadaijin on a palace veranda looking out over a rocky bay with the moon, a flying cuckoo and bands of mist Robinson: S19.81 The poem translates: When I turned my look Toward the place where I had heard The cuckoo's call, The only thing I found Was the moon of early dawn.
	Number: 82 Poet: Dôin-hôshi (The Monk Doin) Scene: Dôin-hôshi and a young acolyte with a scroll seated by a screen painted with a deer under a pine tree Robinson: S19.82 The poem translates: Though in deep distress Through your cruel blow, my life Still is left to me. But I cannot keep my tears; They break forth from my grief.
	Number: 83 Poet: Kôtaikôgû-no-tayû Shunzei (Fujiwara no Toshinari) Scene: Kôtaikôgû-no-tayû Shunzei with a page and two armed attendants, one holding a torch, near a palace Robinson: S19.83 The poem translates: From this world I think That there is nowhere to escape. I wanted to hide In the mountains' farthest depths; But there I hear the stag's cry.
	Number: 86 Poet: Saigyô-hôshi (The Monk Saigyô) Scene: Saigyô-hôshi under a willow tree on a river bank showing a group of children the golden cat given to him by the emperor Robinson: S19.86 The poem translates: Should I blame the moon For bringing forth this sadness, As if it pictured grief? Lifting up my troubled face, I regard it through my tears.
	Number: 87 Poet: Jakuren-hôshi (The Monk Jakuren) Scene: Jakuren-hôshi and a page, both with open umbrellas, taking a stroll in an evening shower Robinson: S19.87 The poem translates: An autumn eve: See the valley mists arise Among the fir leaves That still hold the dripping wet Of the chill day's sudden showers. Image courtesy of Richard Illing
	Number: 90 Poet: Impu-monin-no-ôsuke (Attendant to Empress Inpu) Scene: Two girls carrying pails of saltwater along the seashore with Mt. Fuji in the distance Robinson: S19.90 The poem translates: Let me show him these! Even the fishermen's sleeves On Ojima's shores, Though wet through and wet again, Do not so change their colors.
	Number: 97 Poet: Gonchûnagon Sada-iye (Fujiwara no Sadaie, Fujiwara no Teika) Scene: Gonchûnagon Sada-iye hugging his pet cat while a page prepares its food and a standing lady watches Robinson: S19.97 The poem translates: Like the salt sea-weed, Burning in the evening calm. On Matsuo's shore, All my being is aflame, Awaiting her who does not come.
	Number: 99 Poet: Go-Toba-no-in (Emperor Gotoba) Scene: The emperor and an assistant forging a sword blade with a page and an attendant seated behind Robinson: S19.99 The poem translates: For some men I grieve; Some men are hateful to me; And this wretched world To me, with all my sadness, Is a place of misery.

‘Robinson’ refers to listing in Kuniyoshi: The Warrior-Prints by Basil William Robinson (Cornell University Press, Ithaca, NY, 1982) and its unpublished supplement.

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