Anthology of Japanese Literature (10 page)

BOOK: Anthology of Japanese Literature
8.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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 jewel—but "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 abate—it 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 eyes—and with the help of a mirror—what 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 Yamazaki—the terminus for river traffic—is 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
Ō
ō
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, woven—it seems—
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 heard—there 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 here—one 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 knew—if 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 water—
Ike no k
ō
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
ō

. .

Yume yo yume
Dreams, listen, my dreams!
Koishiki hito ni
Do not bring me together
Aimisu na
With the man I love—
Samete no nochi wa
When once I have awakened
Wabishikarikeri
It makes me feel so lonely.
Anonymous

. .

Koi su ch
ō
They say I'm in love—
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 again—
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 left—
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 dark—
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
ō
nagon
TRANSLATED BY DONALD KEENE

[
from the Kiny
ō
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 clouds—
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
ō
, 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 rocks—
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 grass—
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
Footnotes

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
Ō
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
ō
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 come—when the barrier was opened.

BOOK: Anthology of Japanese Literature
8.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Caretakers (Tyler Cunningham) by Sheffield, Jamie
Buddy Boys by Mike McAlary
The Lost Girl by Lilian Carmine
Life Penalty by Joy Fielding
I Did Tell, I Did by Harte, Cassie
Cries in the Night by Kathy Clark