Anthology of Japanese Literature (10 page)
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Authors: Donald Keene
High seas detain them for three days at Nada.
Fourth day, third moon: "
Today, judging by the wind and the clouds, we shall have very bad weather," said the pilot, and we did not venture from this harbor. But all day long there has been not a sign of wind or waves. Even as a judge of the weather, this pilot is useless. Along the beach of the harbor were innumerable shells and pebbles of great beauty, and someone in the boat, still unable to think of anything except the child who is no longer with us, composed this poem:
Wash your shells to my ship, o waves!
I'll gather forgetting-shells for one I loved.
Another, equally unable to bear his grief, and sick in spirit after the trials of the voyage, replies:
I'll gather no forgetting-shells, but jewels,
Mementos of the jewel-like one I loved.
In grief even a father grows childlike. It might be said, I suppose, that this particular child could hardly be likened to a jewelâbut "a departed child has a beautiful face," goes the proverb. . .
Fifth day:
Today we made haste out of Nada, and steered for the harbor of Ozu. Pines stretch endlessly along the beaches. ... As we were rowed along, admiring the view and talking of this and that, a sudden wind rose, and no matter how desperately the boatmen rowed, we were driven slowly backwards. The boat was in danger of foundering in the waves. "This God of Sumiyoshi is the same as other gods. There is something on board the ship he wants," said the pilot. "Make an offering of paper symbols," he urged. The master complied, but the wind did not abateâit blew all the harder, and the waves rose higher. "Paper symbols are not to the god's taste. The ship makes no headway!" shouted the pilot. "Have you nothing which will please him better?" "There's nothing but this," said the master. "I have two eyes, but only one mirror. I shall give this mirror to the god." He threw it into the waves, and as it sank (a loss indeed!) the sea suddenly became as smooth as the face of a mirror. Someone composed this poem:
Seeking to fathom the mind of the raging god, we cast
A mirror into the stormy sea. In that his image is revealed.
An amazing experience! Surely this cannot be the god whom we commonly associate with such gentle things as "Limpid Waters," "The Balm of Forgetfulness," and "Pines along the Shore"? We have all seen with our own eyesâand with the help of a mirrorâwhat sort of a god he is.
On the following day, to the great joy of all the passengers, Naniwa (Osaka) is reached, and the ship commences its voyage up the river Yodo towards Kyoto. Progress is slow, owing to the shallowness of the channel, but after five days the bridge at Yamazakiâthe terminus for river trafficâis sighted.
Eleventh day:
After a litde rain the skies cleared. Continuing up-river, we noticed a line of hills converging on the eastern bank. When we learned that this is the Yawata Hachiman Shrine, there was great rejoicing and we humbly abased ourselves in thanks. The bridge of Yamazaki came in sight at last, and our feelings of joy could no longer be restrained. Here, close by the
Å
Å
ji Temple, our boat came to anchor; and here we waited, while various matters were negotiated for the remainder of our journey. By the riverside, near the temple, there were many willow trees, and one of our company, admiring their reflection in the water, made the poem:
A pattern of wave ripples, wovenâit seemsâ
On a loom of green willows reflected in the stream.
They wait several days at Yamazaki for carriages to arrive from Kyoto. Kyoto is reached late at night, on the sixteenth day of the second moon.
Sixteenth day:
As we reached the house and passed through the gate, everything stood out brightly under the clear moon. Things were even worse than we had heardâthere was a wilderness of decay and dilapidation. The heart of the neighbor to whose care we entrusted the house has proved a wilderness, too. Seeing that his house and ours were like one, divided only by a fence, we left everything to his care with good hopes. Whenever we sent him news or instructions, we sent small presents as well. However, tonight we have no intention of showing any displeasure. Wretched though the place looks, we shall thank him for his trouble.
In a marshy spot in the garden we had excavated a pit, forming a pond, around which stood a grove of pine trees. It looks as if, in five or six years, a thousand years have left their mark hereâone bank of the pond has collapsed, new trees have sprung up among the old, and such is the general air of neglect that all who look are afflicted with a sense of sadness. Old memories come flooding back, and the saddest of all are those of the child who was born in this house and who has not returned. To see others from the ship surrounded by excited, happy children, only makes our grief more difficult to bear. One who shares our inmost thoughts composed this poem:
When one, whose home is here, has not returned,
How sad to see these new young pines!
Still unconsoled, perhaps, he wrote another:
The one I knewâif only she had been an ageless pine!
What need then of these grievous farewells?
There are many things which we cannot forget, and which give us pain, but I cannot write them all down. Whatever they may be, let us say no more.
TRANSLATED BY G. W. SARGENT
POETRY FROM THE SIX COLLECTIONS
[
from the Gosensh
Å«
, 951 A.D.
]
| Mizu no omo ni | The breezes of spring |
| Aya fukimidaru | Are blowing the ripples astray |
| Haru kaze ya | Along the waterâ |
| Ike no k Å ri wo | Today they will surely melt |
| Kyo wa tokuramu | The sheet of ice on the pond. |
| Ki no Tomonori |
. .
| Kore ya kono | This is the Barrier |
| Yuku mo haeru mo | Where people come and people go |
| Wakaretsutsu | Exchanging farewells; |
| Shiru mo shiranu mo | For friends and strangers alike |
| Ausala no seki | This is Meeting Barrier. 1 |
| Semimaru |
TRANSLATED BY DONALD KEENE
[
from the Sh
Å«
ish
Å«
, 997]
| Kuraki yori | Out of the dark, |
| Kuraki michi ni zo | Into a dark path |
| Irinubeki | I now must enter: |
| Haruka ni terase | Shine on me from afar, |
| Yama no ha no tsuki | Moon of the mountain fringe! 2 |
| Izumi Shikibu |
. .
| Omoikane | The time I went to see my sister 3 |
| Imo gari yukeba | Whom I loved unendurably, |
| Fuyu no yo no | The winter night's |
| Kawakaze samumi | River wind was so cold that |
| Chidori naku nari | The sanderlings were crying. |
| Ki no Tsurayuki |
. .
| Yo no naka wo | To what shall I compare |
| Nani ni tatoemu | This world? |
| Asaborake | To the white wake behind |
| Kogiyuku fune no | A ship that has rowed away |
| Ato no shiranami | At dawn! |
| The Priest Mansei (c. 720) TRANSLATED BY ARTHUR WALEY |
. .
| Wasuraruru | It does not matter |
| Mi wo ba omowazu | That I am forgotten, |
| Chikkaiteshi | But I pity |
| Hito no inochi no | His forsworn life. |
| Oshiku mo aru kana | |
| Lady Ukon TRANSLATED BY KENNETH REXROTH |
. .
| Yaemugura | In the loneliness |
| Shigereru y ado no | Of a hut where rankly grows |
| Sabishiki ni | The prickly goose-grass, |
| Hito koso mienu | There is not a soul in sight: |
| Aki wa kinikeri | Autumn has already come. |
| The Priest Egy Å |
. .
| Yume yo yume | Dreams, listen, my dreams! |
| Koishiki hito ni | Do not bring me together |
| Aimisu na | With the man I loveâ |
| Samete no nochi wa | When once I have awakened |
| Wabishikarikeri | It makes me feel so lonely. |
| Anonymous |
. .
| Koi su ch Å | They say I'm in loveâ |
| Wa ga na wa madami | The rumor is already |
| Tachinikeri | In circulation; |
| Hito shirezu koso | Yet when I began to love |
| Omoisomeshika | There was not a soul who knew. |
| Mibu no Tudami TRANSLATED BY DONALD KEENE |
[
from the Gosh
Å«
ish
Å«
, 1086
]
| Yasurawade | I should not have waited. |
| Nenamashi mono wo | It would have been better |
| Sayo fugete | To have slept and dreamed, |
| Katabuku made no | Than to have watched night pass, |
| Tsuki wo mishi kana | And this slow moon sink. |
| Lady Akazome Em on TRANSLATED BY KENNETH REXROTH |
Sent when ill to someone
| Arazaramu | Soon I shall be dead. |
| Kono yo no hoka no | As a final remembrance |
| Omoide ni | To take from this world, |
| Ima hito tabi no | Come to me now once againâ |
| Au koto mo gana 4 | That is what I long for most. |
| Izumi Shikibu |
. .
| Hi mo karenu | The day has ended |
| Hito mo kaerinu | And the visitors have leftâ |
| Yamazato wa | In the mountain village |
| Mine no arashi no | All that remains is the howl |
| Oto bakari shite | Of the storm winds from the peak. |
| Minamoto no Yorizane |
. .
| Yo wo komete | The night is still darkâ |
| Tori no sorane wa | Even though you counterfeit |
| Hakaru to mo | The morning cockcrows, |
| Yo ni Ausala no | They will never let you through |
| Seki wa yurusaji | Ausaka Barrier. 5 |
| Set Sh Å nagon TRANSLATED BY DONALD KEENE |
[
from the Kiny
Å
sh
Å«
, 1128
]
| Awaji shima | Guardian of the gate |
| Kayou chidori no | Of Suma, how many nights |
| Naku koe ni | Have you awakened |
| Iku yo nezamenu | At the crying of the shore bird |
| Suma no sekimori | Of the Isle of Awaji? |
| Minamoto no Kanemasa TRANSLATED IY KENNETH REXROTH |
. .
| Murakumo ya | The clustering cloudsâ |
| Tsuki no kuma wo ba | Can it be they wipe away |
| Nogofuramu | The lunar shadows? |
| Hareyuka tabi ni | Every time they clear a bit |
| Terimasaru kana | The moonlight shines the brighter. |
| Minamoto no Toshiyori |
[
from the Shikash
Å
, c. 1151
]
| Kaze wo itami | Whipped by a fierce wind |
| Iwa utsu nami no | And dashed like the ocean waves |
| Onore no mi | Against the rocksâ |
| Kudakete mono wo | I alone am broken to bits |
| Omou koro Xana | And now am lost in longing. |
| Minamoto no Shigeyuki (d. 1000) |
[
from the Senzaish
Å«
, 1188
]
| Mushi no ne wa | The cries of the insects |
| Asaji ga moto ni | Are buried at the roots of |
| Uzumerete | The sparse pampas grassâ |
| Aki wa sue ha no | The end of autumn is in |
| Iro ni zo arikeru | The color of the last leaves. |
| The Priest Jamuren (d. 1202) TRANSLATED BY DONALD KEENE |
1
The beauty of this poem is in its rhythm, created by the repetition of the word
mo
and the
k
sounds. It is the most famous of the poems about the Barrier of Ausaka (or
Å
saka), a place on the road near Kyoto where travelers to and from the east were stopped and questioned. The name contains the word
au
, "to meet," and occasioned endless
jeux d'esprit.
2
Said to be her death-verse; the moon may refer to Buddha's teachings.
3
A word for a sweetheart commonly found in the "
Man'y
Å
sh
Å«
,"
but rather archaic by this-time, when the usual word was "person,"
hito.
4
The use of
o
and a sounds contributes to the effect of this poem.
5
Refers to a Chinese story of a man who got through a barrier by imitating a cock's crowing and thus making die keeper of the barrier think that dawn had comeâwhen the barrier was opened.