解説
この一首は「つるぎ技/筆や口には/つくされず/言ぶれせずに/悟り行へ」と、書いても語っても尽くしきれない領域は“剣の技=からだで行う道”にあると定め、触れ回る(言触れ)前に、まず悟りを実践せよと命じています。語注が示す掛詞も要点です――つるぎには「つる(釣る・惹く)」の響き、つくされずには「付く/着く」による非執着・非到着の含み、言ぶれには「公示(ことぶれ)/“言がぶれる”」の二相が重ねられ、ことばのゆらぎを鎮め、経験で語れという設計がはっきり読めます。
植芝盛平の六つのプライマーに通すと、運転図はこう結び直せます。プライマーの第一原理〈武=宇宙原理〉—言説で完結しない宇宙の理を、剣の行で受け取る。プライマーの第三原理〈心魂一如〉—声・息・身を同一拍に束ねるからこそ、「悟り行へ」が空語でなくなる。プライマーの第五原理〈体=道場、心=修業者/修行者/学び手〉—稽古場で“言う前にやる”を反復して体化。プライマーの第二原理〈神や人との合気〉—説明より結び(触れ)で伝える。プライマーの第四原理〈和合美化〉—語りで煽らず、所作で場を澄ます。プライマーの第六原理〈「至愛」の源に順う〉—発する言葉は、実践で裏打ちされた最少限にとどめる。いずれも本ページの言霊(kotodama)規律と命令形「行へ」の読みが裏づけです。
直前の三首との糸足しも明快です。第144首は「神の仕組み=愛気十(十字)」で道の設計を示し、第145首は「つきさかき/こり霊はらふ」で依代と禊の手順を前景化し、第146首は「常々の稽古に心せよ――一を以て万にあたる」と運用の芯を定めました。第147首はその先で、“設計(第144首)×禊(第145首)×一(第146首)”を、筆と口で“尽くそう”とせず、まず一挙で“行え”と締めます――説明はあと、証明は手足で。
口語要約のひとこと
「剣のわざは筆や口では言い尽くせない――言いふらさずに、悟りを実践しなさい。」
和歌修辞の補説――五句の環状構成と「言」から「行」への折り
この一首には、既注の上の句・下の句、切れ、掛詞、余韻に加え、まず破調のない五・七・五・七・七の定型律が働いています。「つるぎわざ」五音、「ふでやくちには」七音、「つくされず」五音、「ことぶれせずに」七音、「さとりおこなへ」七音。筆と口では剣技を「尽くせない」と説きながら、歌そのものは三十一音の器を一音も余らせずに尽くす。この内容と形式の緊張が、すでに一つの逆説となっています。初句「つるぎ技」は、文を名詞で言い切る体言止めではなく、主題を無助詞で据える体言提示です。「つるぎ技〔は〕」の「は」を沈め、剣技をまず構えとして立ててから、その述語を第二・第三句へ遅らせるため、初句は題目のように独立し、残る四句がその一語を解く形となります。和歌・短歌が五音・七音を基調とすること自体は定型の基礎ですが、この歌では定型を守ることそのものが「言葉を必要最少限に整える」という内容に参与しています。
また、「筆や口には|つくされず」と「言ぶれせずに|悟り行へ」には、句境を越えて統語が続く二重の句またがりがあります。一語そのものを二句に割る狭義の句跨がりではなく、文節・統語単位の終わりと五・七・五・七・七の句境とを一致させない、広義の句またがりです。第二句末の「には」は述語「つくされず」を、第四句末の「に」は主命令「悟り行へ」をそれぞれ次句に待つため、両句は助詞止めに近い懸垂を作ります。しかも「には/に」という句末音の照応が、第二・第三句と第四・第五句を同じ呼吸型に置く。「筆や口には――つくされず」、「言ぶれせずに――悟り行へ」と、説明の限界と実践の条件とが、二度の送りによって折り重なります。
第三句「つくされず」は、意味の上では上の句を閉じる三句切れを立てながら、文法の上では下の句へ続き得る連用中止の形でもあります。打消の助動詞「ず」は連用形と終止形が同形であるため、「剣技は筆や口には尽くされず。」と一度言い切る響きと、「剣技は筆や口には尽くされず、言触れせずに……」と継続する響きとが重なる。したがって、この「ず」は切れであると同時に継ぎ目でもあります。さらに第三句の「ず」を第四句の「せず」が受け、否定辞が句境をまたいで反復される。「尽くそうとすること」を退け、続いて「触れ回ること」を退け、その二つの否定で余分を払ったのち、最後に肯定命令「行へ」を出す――否定・否定・命令という三段の畳み掛けです。
五句全体は、A―B―C―B′―A′の環状構成、または抱擁構造としても読めます。A「つるぎ技」は身体による技、B「筆や口には」は言語の媒体、中央のC「つくされず」は言語の限界、B′「言ぶれせずに」は言語の節制、A′「悟り行へ」は身体による実証です。すなわち、剣技――筆・口――尽くせなさ――言触れ――悟りの行という配列で、身体から出て言語を通り、その限界を軸に折り返し、再び身体へ帰る。言葉を単純に捨てる構造ではありません。言葉を剣技と行の内側に包み込み、その働く範囲を定める構造です。中央の「つくされず」が、この折りの蝶番となっています。
縁語についても、固定した古典的縁語の組というより、二系列の縁語的語彙連鎖が認められます。一方には「筆・口・言触れ・尽くす」という記述・発話の系列があり、他方には「剣技・悟り・行」という実践・体得の系列がある。「筆」に対しては「書き尽くす」、「口」に対しては「言い尽くす」という省略された動詞が連想され、一語の「尽くす」が二つの表現行為を兼ねます。そして第四句の「言」と第五句の「行」が、漢字の上でも意味の上でも直接に向き合う。「言ぶれせずに」の〈言〉を「悟り行へ」の〈行〉が受けるため、下の句は言行の対照を最短距離で示します。狭義の縁語とは、意味上関連する語を別の箇所に配して相互照応させる修辞ですが、本首では二つの意味場を対置することで、その働きが拡張されています。
文法上の態と叙法の転換も見逃せません。第三句「つくされず」は、剣技が筆や口によって尽くされる側に置かれる受動表現です。これに対して結句「行へ」は、聞き手を行為主体として立ち上げる能動の命令形。受動から能動へ、叙述から命令へ、対象として語られる剣技から、みずから行う剣技へと軸が移ります。歌の前半では行為者が表面に出ず、最後の一語で初めて、命令を受ける稽古者が文法上に現れる。この命令形止めは、単に強く言い切るだけではなく、説明を読む位置から行為を担う位置へ身を移させます。初句で構え、二つの「ず」で余分を払い、結句の「行へ」で一挙に決める――五句の統語そのものが、剣の運びを思わせる設計です。
さらに「悟り」は、名詞と動詞連用形との境を開いた語です。「悟り」という名詞は、もともと動詞「悟る」の連用形が名詞化したものなので、「悟り〔を〕行へ」と読めば〈悟りを実践せよ〉となり、「悟り、行へ」と連用中止に読めば〈悟って、行え〉となります。前者では悟りが実践される対象となり、後者では悟ること自体が行に先立つ動作となる。したがって結句は、「悟りを行とせよ」と「悟って行ぜよ」の二方向へ開きます。これは同音異義語を重ねる狭義の掛詞ではなく、連用形と名詞が同じ形を取ることから生じる、品詞・構文上の両義です。悟りを所有物のように語る読みと、悟る働きをただちに行へ接続する読みとが重なり、悟りを名詞のまま静止させない効果を生みます。
一首全体には、自己言及的な逆説もあります。筆で記され、口で唱えられる道歌が、「筆や口にはつくされず」と筆と口の不十分さを告げる。しかし「筆や口では何も伝えられない」とは言わず、「尽くされず」とだけ言うため、歌は自らを否定しません。言葉は剣技の全体を置き換えることはできないが、その限界を指し示し、行へ向けることはできる。この道歌は、説明を完成させる文章ではなく、説明を途中で止めて行為を発動させる言葉として、自らの教えを形式の上でも遂行しています。筆と口の限界を筆と口で示し、その筆と口を最後の「行へ」で身へ返すところに、本首のメタ詩的な骨法があります。
なお、修辞名を厳密に整理するなら、第二句の「や」は疑問・反語の係助詞でも切れ字でもなく、「筆」と「口」という同種の名詞を並べる並立の「や」と読むのが最も安定します。したがって、ここに係り結びは生じません。また初句は体言提示であって体言止めではなく、特定の語を音や像の連想によって導く正式な序詞、一定の語に固定して冠する枕詞、歌枕、明示的な見立ても立てにくい。上の句三句には結句の命令を導く「序詞的な前置き」の働きはありますが、古典修辞としての序詞そのものとは区別すべきです。
同じ理由から、既注の「つるぎ/つくされず/言ぶれ」の三例は、狭義の掛詞と断定するより、音義連想・語源的連想・擬似掛詞として段階づける方が文献学的には安全です。狭義の掛詞は、一つの同音形が二つの語の役割を同時に担い、双方の意味が歌の文脈へ文法的に参加する修辞です。本首でより確実に二重化しているのは、第三句「ず」の終止/連用の揺れ、結句「悟り」の名詞/連用形の揺れ、そして「言」と「行」の対照です。これらを中核に置けば、自由な音の連想を残しながらも、歌そのものから直接に確認できる修辞構造がいっそう明瞭になります。
発話行為理論
オースティン(Austin, 1962)の発話行為論(Speech Act Theory)で読み替えると、この道歌は「剣技は筆や口で尽くせない」という叙述にとどまらない。発話行為(locutionary)の層では、「つるぎ技/筆や口には/つくされず」という語義・音・文法が置かれ、上の句末の「つくされず」で大きな切れが立つ。発話内行為(illocutionary)の層では、この切れをまたいで「言ぶれせずに/悟り行へ」と命じる訓戒が発動し、発話媒介行為(perlocutionary)の層では、筆と口の過剰を鎮め、稽古の一挙へ身心を返す作用が生じる。
上の句から下の句への折りも肝です。第一・第二句の「つるぎ技/筆や口には」は、第四句「言ぶれせずに」へ折り返され、媒介としての筆・口が、今度は触れ回る言葉、ぶれる言として戒められる。第三句「つくされず」は、第五句「悟り行へ」へ折り返され、尽くし切れないという否定が、行で証すという肯定命令へ転じる。言葉が足りぬから沈黙、沈黙だけで止まらず実行、この二段の折りが一首の骨法です。
掛詞の働きも、発話行為論の三層を太くします。つるぎに釣る・惹く響き、つくされずに付く/着くの非執着・非到着、言ぶれに事触れ/言触れと“言がぶれる”二相が重なるため、発話行為は単線の意味で閉じず、発話内行為は単なる説明禁止で終わらず、発話媒介行為は口数の節制、言霊の整流、剣の行による悟りの実証へ向かいます。つまり第147首は、言葉で言葉の限界を示しながら、最後の「行へ」で言葉を行へ戻す道歌です。
コーダ
この道歌の終点は、沈黙ではない。「筆や口にはつくされず」と定めたあと、植芝盛平は言葉を捨てさせるのではなく、その働くべき範囲を明らかにし、結句「悟り行へ」によって、読む者を言説から実践へ送り返している。筆と口は剣技そのものを代行することはできない。しかし、自らの限界を示し、身体を行へ向けることはできる。したがって「言ぶれせずに」は、秘事を抱え込むための沈黙でも、説明そのものを退ける反知性的な命令でもない。実証に先立って断言せず、まだ身に成っていないことを完成した教えのように触れ回らないための、言霊の節度である。
第三句「つくされず」と第四句「せず」に重ねられた二つの否定は、まず剣技を言葉で所有し尽くそうとする働きを払い、次に、その未完の理解を外へ広めようとする働きを払う。その二つが退いたところで、最後にただ一つの肯定命令――「行へ」――が現れる。ここで悟りは、説明の末に獲得して保存される結論ではない。剣の一挙、息の一拍、相手との触れと結びのなかで、つねに新たに成立させられる行である。「悟り〔を〕行へ」と「悟り、行へ」とが重なるのも、そのためであろう。悟りを行の対象としながら、同時に悟る働きをそのまま次の行へ流し込み、名詞として静止させないのである。
ゆえに、この一首を読む最後の作法は、さらに説明を積み重ねることではない。三十一音が尽きた場所から、稽古者が自らの一挙を始めることである。道歌は剣技のすべてを語らないから不完全なのではない。語り得るところまでを正しく語り、その限界を中央の「つくされず」に据え、残るものを結句から身体へ手渡すことによって完成する。筆を置き、口を鎮める。しかし、黙るだけで終わってはならない。声・息・身を一つの拍へ結び、言葉が指し示したところを、自らの行によって証せよ――悟り、行へ。
English Translation
Commentary
This poem—tsurugi-waza / fude ya kuchi ni wa / tsukusarezu / kotobure sezu ni / satori okonae (つるぎ技/筆や口には/つくされず/言ぶれせずに/悟り行へ)—locates the realm that neither writing nor speech can ever exhaust in “the art of the sword—that is, a way enacted through the body,” and commands that realization first be put into practice before it is proclaimed abroad as kotobure (言触れ). The pivoting wordplay identified in the lexical notes is also central: tsurugi (つるぎ) carries the resonance of tsuru (つる), “to fish for” (釣る) or “to draw and attract” (惹く); tsukusarezu (つくされず) admits undertones of tsuku (付く/着く), suggesting both nonattachment and nonarrival; and kotobure (言ぶれ) overlays the two aspects of public proclamation—kotobure (言触れ)—and “the word wavers”—koto ga bureru (言がぶれる). The design is readily legible: still the wavering of language, and speak through experience.
Passed through Morihei Ueshiba’s Six Primers, the poem’s operating diagram may be reconnected as follows. Primer One, “Bu = Cosmic Principle” (Bu = Uchū Genri, 武=宇宙原理): receive through the enactment of the sword the cosmic principle that discourse cannot bring to completion. Primer Three, “Heart-mind and Spirit, Inseparable” (Shinkon Ichinyo, 心魂一如): only because voice, breath, and body are bound into a single beat does satori okonae (悟り行へ), “put realization into practice,” cease to be empty speech. Primer Five, “Body = Dōjō; Heart-mind = Practitioner / Ascetic / Learner” (Karada/Tai = Dōjō, Kokoro = Shūgyōsha / Shugyōsha / Manabite, 体=道場、心=修業者/修行者/学び手): embody “do it before speaking of it” through repetition in the training hall. Primer Two, “Aiki with Kami / Another / Others” (Kami ya Hito to no Aiki, プライマーの第二原理〈神や人との合気〉—communicate through joining and contact—fure—rather than through explanation. Primer Four, “Harmonization and Beautification” (Wagō Bika, 和合美化): do not inflame the field through talk; clarify it through conduct. Primer Six, “Follow the source of ‘Supreme Love’” (Shiai no Minamoto ni Shitagau, 「至愛」の源に順う): let whatever words are uttered remain at the minimum warranted by practice. Each of these readings is supported by the discipline of kotodama (言霊) governing this page and by the imperative force of okonae (行へ).
The thread tying this poem to the three immediately preceding dōka is equally clear. Dōka 144 presents the design of the way through “the divine construction = aiki ten—the cross” (kami no shikumi = aiki jū [jūji], 神の仕組み=愛気十〔十字〕). Dōka 145 brings the ritual sequence of the yorishiro (依代) and misogi (禊) to the foreground through tsuki sakaki / kori-tama harau (つきさかき/こり霊はらふ). Dōka 146 establishes the operational core: “Attend carefully to constant training—with the one, meet the ten thousand” (tsunezune no keiko ni kokoro seyo—ichi o motte man ni ataru, 常々の稽古に心せよ――一を以て万にあたる). Dōka 147 then takes the next step. Rather than attempting to “exhaust” design, purification, and the one—“design × misogi × one”—through brush and mouth, it closes by commanding that the matter first be “done” in a single stroke. Explanation afterward; proof belongs to hands and feet.
In one colloquial sentence
“The art of the sword cannot be told in full by brush or mouth—do not go around proclaiming it in finality; put realization into practice.”
Supplementary note on waka rhetoric: The five-line ring and the fold from “word” to “act”
Beyond the already-noted kami-no-ku (上の句), shimo-no-ku (下の句), kire (切れ), kakekotoba (掛詞), and yoin (余韻), the poem first of all operates within an unbroken 5–7–5–7–7 meter. Tsurugi-waza (つるぎわざ) has five morae; fude ya kuchi ni wa (ふでやくちには), seven; tsukusarezu (つくされず), five; kotobure sezu ni (ことぶれせずに), seven; and satori okonae (さとりおこなへ), seven. Although the poem declares that sword art cannot be “exhausted” through brush and mouth, the poem itself exhausts its thirty-one-mora vessel without leaving a single mora over. The tension between content and form is already a paradox in its own right. The opening tsurugi-waza (つるぎ技) is not a sentence brought to rest upon a noun through taigendome (体言止め); rather, it is a nominal presentation that places the topic before the reader without a particle. By submerging the wa (は) of tsurugi-waza [wa] (つるぎ技〔は〕) and first setting sword art upright as a stance, the poem delays its predicate until the second and third lines. The opening line consequently stands apart like a title, while the remaining four lines unfold and interpret that one expression. The five- and seven-mora basis of waka and tanka is elementary to the form, but here the very act of maintaining the form participates in the poem’s instruction to bring language into the minimum necessary order.
There is also a double instance of syntactic carryover, or ku-matagari (句またがり), in fude ya kuchi ni wa | tsukusarezu (筆や口には|つくされず), “by brush or mouth | it cannot be exhausted,” and kotobure sezu ni | satori okonae (言ぶれせずに|悟り行へ), “without proclaiming it abroad | put realization into practice.” This is not ku-matagari in the narrow sense of dividing a single word between two lines. It is ku-matagari in the broader sense: the endings of the clauses and syntactic units are not made to coincide with the boundaries of the 5–7–5–7–7 lines. The ni wa (には) at the end of the second line awaits the predicate tsukusarezu (つくされず), while the ni (に) at the end of the fourth awaits the governing imperative satori okonae (悟り行へ). Both lines therefore create a suspension approaching particle-final closure, or joshi-dome (助詞止め). Moreover, the correspondence between the line endings ni wa / ni (には/に) places the second–third and fourth–fifth lines within the same pattern of breath: fude ya kuchi ni wa—tsukusarezu (筆や口には――つくされず), “by brush or mouth—it cannot be exhausted”; kotobure sezu ni—satori okonae (言ぶれせずに――悟り行へ), “without proclaiming it abroad—put realization into practice.” The limit of explanation and the condition of practice fold over one another through these two carryovers.
The third line, tsukusarezu (つくされず), establishes a three-line break, or sanku-gire (三句切れ), insofar as it closes the kami-no-ku semantically. Grammatically, however, it can also function as a continuative suspension, or ren’yō chūshi (連用中止), leading onward into the lower phrase. Because the continuative and conclusive forms of the negative auxiliary zu (ず) take the same shape, the line bears two simultaneous cadences. It may sound once as a completed statement—“Sword art cannot be exhausted by brush or mouth” (ken-gi wa fude ya kuchi ni wa tsukusarezu, 剣技は筆や口には尽くされず。)—yet it may also continue: “Sword art cannot be exhausted by brush or mouth, and without proclaiming it abroad…” (ken-gi wa fude ya kuchi ni wa tsukusarezu, kotobure sezu ni…, 剣技は筆や口には尽くされず、言触れせずに……). This zu (ず) is therefore both a cut and a seam. The zu (ず) of the third line is then answered by the sezu (せず) of the fourth, repeating the negative across the line boundary. First the attempt to exhaust the art is rejected; then the act of spreading it abroad is rejected. Only after these two negations have cleared away the superfluous does the final affirmative command, okonae (行へ), appear. The movement is a threefold intensification: negation, negation, command.
The five lines as a whole may also be read as an A–B–C–B′–A′ ring composition, or envelope structure. A, tsurugi-waza (つるぎ技), is bodily technique. B, fude ya kuchi ni wa (筆や口には), names the media of language. At the center, C, tsukusarezu (つくされず), states the limit of language. B′, kotobure sezu ni (言ぶれせずに), imposes discipline upon language. A′, satori okonae (悟り行へ), returns to bodily verification. The sequence thus proceeds from sword art, through brush and mouth, to inexhaustibility, then through verbal proclamation, and finally to the enactment of realization. It departs from the body, passes through language, folds around the hinge of language’s limit, and returns once more to the body. This is not a structure that simply discards words. It encloses words within sword art and action, determining the range within which they may properly operate. The central tsukusarezu (つくされず) is the hinge of this fold.
With regard to engo (縁語), the poem does not so much employ a fixed classical pairing of associative words as establish two chains of vocabulary with an engo-like function. On one side lies the descriptive and verbal sequence of “brush, mouth, proclamation, exhaust”—fude, kuchi, kotobure, tsukusu (筆・口・言触れ・尽くす). On the other lies the sequence of practice and embodied realization—tsurugi-waza, satori, gyō (剣技・悟り・行). In relation to the brush, one is led to supply the omitted verb kakitsukusu (書き尽くす), “to exhaust in writing”; in relation to the mouth, iitsukusu (言い尽くす), “to say all that can be said.” The single verb tsukusu (尽くす) thus does service for two modes of expression. The written character for “word,” koto (言), in the fourth line also directly confronts the character for “act” or “practice,” gyō (行), in the fifth, both graphically and semantically. Because the “act” of satori okonae (悟り行へ) answers the “word” of kotobure sezu ni (言ぶれせずに), the shimo-no-ku presents the contrast between word and deed across the shortest possible distance. In its narrow sense, engo refers to the distribution of semantically related words in separate places so that they resonate with one another. Here, that function is extended by placing two entire fields of meaning into opposition.
The change in grammatical voice and mood must likewise not be overlooked. The third-line tsukusarezu (つくされず) is passive: sword art is placed on the side of that which might be exhausted by brush or mouth. By contrast, the closing okonae (行へ) is an active imperative that raises the hearer into the position of acting subject. The axis shifts from passive to active, from statement to command, and from sword art spoken about as an object to sword art undertaken through one’s own action. No agent appears upon the surface of the poem’s first half. Only in the final word does the practitioner who receives the command emerge grammatically. This imperative ending does more than bring the poem to a forceful conclusion. It moves the body from the position of reading an explanation into the position of bearing the act itself. The poem assumes its stance in the opening line, clears away the superfluous through its two instances of zu (ず), and decides the matter in one stroke with the final okonae (行へ). The syntax of the five lines itself resembles the movement of a sword.
The word satori (悟り), moreover, opens the boundary between noun and verbal continuative. The noun satori (悟り) originated as the nominalized continuative form of the verb satoru (悟る), “to realize” or “to awaken.” Read as satori [o] okonae (悟り〔を〕行へ), the line means “put realization into practice.” Read instead as satori, okonae (悟り、行へ), with satori functioning as a suspended continuative, it means “realize—and act.” In the former reading, realization becomes the object enacted through practice; in the latter, realizing is itself an action preceding and flowing into practice. The closing line consequently opens in two directions: “Make realization itself the practice” (satori o gyō to seyo, 悟りを行とせよ) and “Realize, then practice” (satotte gyōzeyo, 悟って行ぜよ). This is not a kakekotoba in the narrow sense of two homophonous words being overlaid. It is an ambiguity of part of speech and syntax arising from the continuative and nominal forms sharing the same shape. The reading in which realization is spoken of as something possessed and the reading in which the activity of realizing is immediately joined to practice overlap, preventing realization from remaining motionless as a mere noun.
The poem as a whole also contains a self-referential paradox. This dōka, written with a brush and recited by the mouth, declares that sword art cannot be exhausted “by brush or mouth”—fude ya kuchi ni wa tsukusarezu (筆や口にはつくされず). Yet it does not say that nothing at all can be conveyed through brush or mouth. It says only that the matter cannot be exhausted by them. Language cannot substitute for the whole of sword art, but it can indicate its own limit and direct the body toward action. This dōka is not prose intended to complete an explanation. It is language that interrupts explanation midway and activates conduct; in its very form, it performs its own teaching. It uses brush and mouth to reveal the limits of brush and mouth, then returns both to the body through the final okonae (行へ). There lies the poem’s metapoetic discipline.
For strict rhetorical classification, the ya (や) in the second line is most securely read neither as an interrogative or rhetorical kakari-joshi (係助詞) nor as a kireji (切れ字), but as the coordinative or enumerative ya that places “brush” and “mouth” beside one another as nouns of the same class. It therefore produces no kakari-musubi (係り結び). The opening line is likewise a nominal presentation, not taigendome (体言止め). Nor is it easy to establish a formal joshi (序詞) that introduces a particular expression through a chain of sonic or imagistic association, a fixed makurakotoba (枕詞) conventionally prefixed to a particular word, an utamakura (歌枕), or an explicit mitate (見立て). The three lines of the kami-no-ku do function as a “prefatory lead-in” to the command in the final line, but this should be distinguished from the formal classical device of the joshi itself.
For the same reason, it is philologically safer to classify the three previously noted cases—tsurugi (つるぎ), tsukusarezu (つくされず), and kotobure (言ぶれ)—by degrees as phonosemantic association, etymological association, or pseudo-kakekotoba, rather than declaring each one a kakekotoba in the strict sense. A narrowly defined kakekotoba is a device in which a single homophonous form simultaneously performs the work of two separate words, with both meanings participating grammatically in the poem’s context. What is more securely doubled in this poem is the wavering of the third-line zu (ず) between conclusive and continuative force, the wavering of satori (悟り) between noun and verbal continuative, and the opposition between “word” and “act”—koto and gyō (言と行). Placing these structures at the center preserves the freedom of the poem’s sonic associations while making still clearer the rhetorical design that can be demonstrated directly from the poem itself.
Speech Act Theory
Read through Austin’s (1962) Speech Act Theory, this dōka does not remain merely a statement that “sword art cannot be exhausted through brush or mouth.” At the level of the locutionary act—hatsuwa kōi (発話行為)—the semantic, sonic, and grammatical material of tsurugi-waza / fude ya kuchi ni wa / tsukusarezu (つるぎ技/筆や口には/つくされず) is set in place, and a major break arises at the end of the kami-no-ku with tsukusarezu (つくされず). At the level of the illocutionary act—hatsuwanai kōi (発話内行為)—the admonition kotobure sezu ni / satori okonae (言ぶれせずに/悟り行へ), “do not proclaim it abroad; put realization into practice,” is activated across that break. At the level of the perlocutionary act—hatsuwa baikai kōi (発話媒介行為)—the excesses of brush and mouth are quieted, and body-mind is returned to the single stroke of training.
The fold from the kami-no-ku to the shimo-no-ku is crucial. The first and second lines, tsurugi-waza / fude ya kuchi ni wa (つるぎ技/筆や口には), fold back into the fourth, kotobure sezu ni (言ぶれせずに): brush and mouth, first presented as media, return as words spread abroad and as speech liable to waver. The third line, tsukusarezu (つくされず), folds into the fifth, satori okonae (悟り行へ): the negative statement that the art cannot be exhausted turns into the affirmative command to verify it through action. Words fall short: silence. But do not stop at silence: enactment. This two-stage fold is the structural method of the poem.
The operation of the kakekotoba further thickens all three dimensions of the speech act. Because tsurugi (つるぎ) carries the resonance of tsuru (釣る/惹く), “to fish for” or “to draw”; because tsukusarezu (つくされず) carries associations with tsuku (付く/着く), suggesting nonattachment and nonarrival; and because kotobure (言ぶれ) overlays public proclamation with “the word wavers”—koto ga bureru (言がぶれる)—the locutionary act does not close upon a single linear meaning. The illocutionary act does not end as a simple prohibition against explanation. The perlocutionary act moves instead toward economy of speech, the straightening of the current of kotodama (言霊), and the verification of realization through the enacted sword. Dōka 147 thus uses words to disclose the limits of words, then returns words to action in its final okonae (行へ).
Coda
The endpoint of this dōka is not silence. Having declared that sword art cannot be exhausted “by brush or mouth”—fude ya kuchi ni wa tsukusarezu (筆や口にはつくされず)—Ueshiba Morihei does not discard language. He establishes the proper range of its operation and, through the closing imperative satori okonae (悟り行へ), sends the reader back from discourse into practice. Brush and mouth cannot stand in for sword art itself. They can, however, disclose their own limits and return the body to enactment. Accordingly, kotobure sezu ni (言ぶれせずに) is neither silence imposed for the sake of secrecy nor an anti-intellectual rejection of explanation. It is a discipline of kotodama (言霊): do not let assertion precede verification, and do not circulate what has not yet become embodied as though it were a completed teaching.
The two negations placed in succession—tsukusarezu (つくされず), “cannot be exhausted,” and sezu (せず), “without doing”—first clear away the impulse to possess sword art completely through words, and then clear away the impulse to spread that unfinished understanding abroad. Only after these two removals does the poem release its single affirmative command: okonae (行へ), “enact it.” Realization here is not a conclusion acquired at the end of an explanation and then preserved as a possession. It is an activity repeatedly brought forth within a single movement of the sword, a single measure of breath, and the contact and joining of one person with another. This is why the closing phrase can open simultaneously as satori [o] okonae (悟り〔を〕行へ), “put realization into practice,” and satori, okonae (悟り、行へ), “realize—and act.” Realization becomes the object of practice while the activity of realizing flows immediately into the next act; it is not permitted to come to rest as a noun.
The final way of reading this poem, therefore, is not to add yet another explanation. It is for the practitioner to begin an act of their own at the point where the thirty-one morae come to an end. The dōka is not incomplete because it leaves the whole of sword art unsaid. It completes itself by speaking rightly as far as speech can reach, placing the limit of speech at the central hinge of tsukusarezu (つくされず), and handing what remains from the final line back to the body. Set down the brush and quiet the mouth—but do not end merely in silence. Bind voice, breath, and body into one beat, and verify through your own action what words could only indicate: realize, and enact.
References
American Academy of Poets. (n.d.). Tanka. Poets.org.
Ashkenazi, M. (2003). Handbook of Japanese mythology. ABC‑CLIO.
Austin, J. L. (1962). How to do things with words. Oxford University Press.
Benesch, O. (2014). Inventing the way of the samurai: Nationalism, internationalism, and bushidō in modern Japan. Oxford University Press.
Brower, R. H., & Miner, E. (1961). Japanese court poetry. Stanford University Press.
Carter, S. D. (2019). How to read a Japanese poem. Columbia University Press.
DIGITALIO. (n.d.). ことぶれ【事触・言触】. In Kotobank. Retrieved October 20, 2025 from https://kotobank.jp/word/%E4%BA%8B%E8%A7%A6%E3%82%8C-503255
Frellesvig, B. (2010). A history of the Japanese language. Cambridge University Press.
Goldsbury, P. (2012, July 22). Touching the absolute: Aikido vs. religion and philosophy (1). Aikido Journal.
Greenhalgh, M. (2003). Aikido and spirituality: Japanese religious influences in a martial art (Master’s thesis). Durham University e-Theses. https://etheses.dur.ac.uk/4081/
Kokugakuin University. (n.d.-a). Kotodama. In Encyclopedia of Shinto. Retrieved October 19, 2025 from https://d-museum.kokugakuin.ac.jp/eos/detail/?id=8660
Kokugakuin University. (n.d.-b). Ōmoto. In Encyclopedia of Shinto. Retrieved October 19, 2025 from https://d-museum.kokugakuin.ac.jp/eos/detail/?id=9889
Kubozono, H. (Ed.). (2015). Handbook of Japanese phonetics and phonology. De Gruyter Mouton.
Queeney, M. (2020). Tanka and renga: Looking through windows. Poetry Foundation.
Shirane, H. (2005). Classical Japanese: A grammar. Columbia University Press.
Shooklyn, S. (2009). Moral instruction in budō: A study of Chiba Chōsaku with a translation of his major work (Master’s thesis). University of Toronto.
Ueshiba, M. (1977). 合気道奥義(道歌)(S. Abe, Ed.). 阿部, 醒石. Retrieved from http://www.asahi-net.or.jp/~yp7h-td/douka.htm
Vovin, A. (2003). A reference grammar of classical Japanese prose. RoutledgeCurzon.
Wikimedia Foundation. (2024). Tanka. In Wikipedia.
Appendix I: Change Modification Log
07 SEP 26 - Applied Primer 2's inclusion of kami in commentaries.23 AUG 26 - Updated formatting; added additional poetics analysis; added English translaton of commentary; added codas to Japanese and English commentaries.08 JUN 26 - Added Speech Act Analysis; refined citation style; cleaned up formatting.04 DEC 25 - Phase IV completion; commentary added.23 NOV 25 - Phase IV preparation.19 OCT 25 - Completed Phase III.14 APR 20 - Initial notes transferred.

