Pathway to Japanese Literature

Sickbed

In bamboo-like grass

The wind blows—that is the fact.

In the colonies of bamboo-like grass as well,

The wind blew—that was the fact.

The eye declared,

"It's probably no good."

"It won't stop."

"Because it's gushing forth so violently."

Since last night I hadn't slept and the blood had kept flowing because of it.

The surroundings were blue and profoundly still,

It seemed I would die soon.

But what a splendid wind this was!

Since Qingming was approaching,

surging up from that azure sky,

“A clean wind comes through,” Dr. S remarked.

Upon the maple’s new buds and hair-like flowers,

it raised rippling waves like autumn grass.

The scorched rush mat is also green.

“I don’t know whether you’re returning from the medical association or what,”

Wearing a black frock coat,

if you had gone to such lengths to sincerely try various treatments,

then even were I to die now, I would at least have no complaints.

Despite the blood flowing,
this composure without pain—

Has half my soul left this body?
Yet truly through the blood's doing—
This horror defies all telling.
From your view it must seem desolate ruin,
But through my eyes appears
still that pristine azure sky
and wind sheer as glass.
[When afternoon strikes three]

When it became three in the afternoon,
In my ailing left chest
A turbid red fire burned.
Before long, the rain beat down fiercely -
At first scorching and dark,

Before long came that dazzling rain—
Washing cedars and sacred sakaki,
Falling until it reached dawn—it must be.

Though fever mounts and my chest grows dim,
Though fever mounts and my chest grows dim,
I scatter white stone powder,
I chew bitter grass roots—
How could I not rise once more?

[My chest is now pale blue]
My chest is now pale blue
Seems but a fleeting slab.

Though it be said that vigor lies yonder,

countless breaths—all of them—

are they not my spring's luminous exhalation?

The fever returns.

Mercury shines blue.
Tonight again the fever rises.
Gather the scattered multitude of thoughts,
Thinking of those venerable Bodhisattvas

Let me rest my breath in quiet.

The wavering sediment of light—

Within fields, towns, and government ministries,

The visages and voices of people,

All existing silences and motions,

Arise and return from all things.

O scattered aspect of my mind,

Gather and rest in quiet.

Tomorrow, surely, what must burn—

[In that pale blue glass vessel]

In that pale blue crystal vessel

What shone quietly and settled—
Truly, the Bodhisattva for my sake—
Had atoned and redeemed with blood.
That which is called water—indeed—
Fame.

All truth and falsehood—

Merely reveal them as they are.
I must revere the Omniscient One,
Do not seek to be known by others.
Again, to gain name—a hundred thousand
The lands of all Buddhas overflow
I must think upon heaven and Bodhisattva.
Do not desire black printed characters.
[Even if spring comes, still my...]
Even if spring comes, still my...
Indeed, there is no sign of arising.

Thus yonder cliff's base—

Near Takai’s waterwheel

A bird flew like a bow's released spring.
The walnut row's ordered ranks,
Where snowmelt waters flow
From the dry field's stony heart—
The blue sparrow's sudden dart,
The rice roots reddened and rusted.
A clod of steaming earth—
Will you not bring it to show me?

[If the south wind blows tonight]

When the south wind blew tonight,

it turned to sleet and struck the window.

From beyond that black darkness
The sound of a mysterious bell resounded.
Roof upon roof were laden with snow,
From beyond the black forest
That bell never before heard
How mockingly it reverberated.
That was the row of pine trees at
Could it have been ringing from Entsūji?
Or from the shadow of Iitoyo Hill,
Or did it echo from Tōkōji?
At times like a funeral toll,
As if to rouse, that bell's

Hardened by sweat and anguish,

My mortal self passed through

[In waves of fevered consciousness, heat and gasping]

In waves of fevered consciousness, heat and gasping

Dozed at death's threshold
Through all night and through all day
Truly you must have guarded me
Without jeweled necklaces or shoes
Though lacking an ash-gray hue
Assuming the form of common people
They dwelled with tranquil heart
There was fear in not knowing your august name
Though it be said in the true scripture
It was indeed recorded three times
You are revered as the august goddess
Therefore through anguish and fever

Even amidst my distraught heart,
not by invoking the august god's name,
it was indeed determined by the name of the Dharma.
Without jeweled necklaces, without shoes,
for the children of endless karma,
upon august brows where clouds grieve,
truly they dwelled with tranquil grace.
[My chest is now corroded]

1928・12・

My chest was now corroded

My throat burned hotly

Though you came visiting,

Ah—you too with fish’s teeth—

Lush and blue laughed derisively,

He being one of that group.

To Dr. S,

Dr. S, your voice trembled
as you turned your face from the dark -
I could not endure the heat and gasping

Is this the night my body meets its end?
Ah, the valor and devotion of—
Though the wish was ever-present,
Day after day yearning for tomorrow,
Swiftly has life passed away.

Therefore what you wouldst seek—

Miracles are not my portion.
Only know this, Father and Mother:
To turn away is to die thus desolately.
[Without the hue of a beautiful sunset]

Without the hue of a beautiful sunset,
A single breath unfurled a year
Above me.
[A hundred years passed in drowsiness]
A hundred years passed in drowsiness -
The time of awakening: from what quarter does it come?
Now that I lie ill, my life...

As today remains a day whose time I know not,

[The illness now transformed and arrived]

The illness had now transformed and come,

my forehead bearing death's sign.

Farewell then to my karma as it is.
Wherever, I shall be reborn.
What I single-mindedly pray for is—

May I receive a vigorous body—
I shall repay all debts of grace

I shall bear the suffering of all people

So now, amidst suffering once more—
Amidst countless sorrows

With a sincere heart
May I rejoice and attain that true nature.

Farewell, come now Death—take me away.

In this world I did not walk through,

The procession of manifold pleasures
Of those more beautiful than I
They do not even attain health.
That very fact brings me ever greater delight.
[Hands are hot, legs cold though]
Hands are hot, legs cold though

I am he who builds the tower
The axis of time that comes gliding
Here and there grows beautiful—
Dazzlingly illuminates the darkness—
The form of that tower stands awe-inspiring
[Ah—shall I meet my end here today?]

Ah, shall I meet my end here today?

Though I had a burning desire,

being distracted only by external tasks,

ten years had finally passed.

Burned my body in penitential sweat,

vomited the blood of agony while,

all I prayed was that this corroded

body I would offer—let there be an altar,

[That terrifying black cloud]

That terrifying black cloud

If that terrifying black cloud came again to seize me,

I writhed alone, painfully and feverishly,

Spread over the Kitakami river valley

Declaring to wed that rain cloud,

It bore alternately forests and plains,

Yearning for that Pleistocene land,

Half in jest attributing it to others,

Half in prideful earnest, I truly believed it so,

As the blue mountains and rivers themselves

I thought of myself.

Ah, that matter condemns me.

In the pain of illness and amidst sweat

Those swirling black clouds and

The navy-blue horizon

If that navy-blue horizon draws near once more,

I writhe painfully and feverishly.

Oh Parents! Younger Brother!

After all the kindness and goodwill...

Why do I

Into that terrifying black cloud
Could I throw my body
Ah, friends! Oh distant friends!
You are the shining celestial dome,
Transparent wind—fields and forests’
Do you know this terrifying other face?
[ding ding ding ding ding]

ding ding ding ding ding

[ding ding ding ding ding]
Being struck—ding

Being struck—ding

Dark with algae—ding ding ding

Salt sea—ding ding ding ding ding

Fever—ding ding ding ding ding

Fever fever—ding ding ding

(Revere revere kill kill kill

Kill kill revere revere revere

Revere revere kill kill kill

Kill kill revere revere revere)

Genii finally revealed his true nature.

Go ahead and try—clang clang clang
Like I'd ever lose to the likes of you!
The silhouette of some gigantic bird
Whoosh clang clang clang
The sea pales into bluish dawn—clang

Within the billowing steam,

Fragrantly breathing and drifting

There is a gigantic flower bud.

Illness

Takada

Fujisawa...that which

Ota...won't do it for me.

Takasaki

Kikuchi...pine rows in a dark enclosed place

Warped licensed teachers and probationary teachers

They had been clamoring noisily for two hours already.

The bluish-black square room

It was absolutely not my chest,

The throat alone mumbles and rumbles on its own.

As for my legs, I had no sense of their presence whatsoever.

Pompu clattered.

A hazy blue light was visible.

Then does this mean that the one thinking such thoughts is me?—I say,

That was merely a common reaction in itself,

I don't know whether it's me or something else.

Trying to sleep, trying to sleep, growing frantic—

Trying to sleep — trying desperately — I grew frantic —
Cold sweat and lingering fever —

The clock was pointing to four o'clock.

I observed myself as if it were someone else’s affair.
I envied the me of yesterday at four o'clock.

Ah, back then,

I forgot the sweat and the pain,

I returned to my twenty-year-old lightness of being,

I wove through sepia-toned groves,

Through pristine early winter air,

With a band of stonecutters,

I was climbing Ōsawa-zaka Pass.

[Wind was calling outside.]

The wind was calling outside.

“Come on—get up!
A red shirt
and that tattered overcoat you always wear—”

“Hurry and come outside!”

The wind alternately shouted.

“We all—to welcome your emergence—are scattering sideways with vigor the sleet particles you favor! You too, come flying out quickly upon that ridged crag over there

in the leafless black forest

“Marry one of us who has a beautiful soprano voice, as promised!”

Repeatedly, repeatedly

The wind is shouting outside.

[The chest is now]

My chest was now
a hot, sorrowful salt lake,
its shores stretching two hundred ri
where a pitch-black forest of scale trees continued.
And what was I...?
Until some reptile changed into a bird's form
I lay perfectly still -
Must I keep lying here?

So excruciatingly -
so excruciatingly -
this body burning bluish-white
as giant mallets struck in turn,
saying it still needed much more refining,
there being someone who said this.

Certainly there were two enormous figures -
though their forms remained unseen,

The voices continued to be heard.

(Mōsha-san, isn’t this yours?)

There was no reply.

A single harp note plinked softly.

[When I opened my eyes, the April wind]

When I opened my eyes, the April wind

From the lapis lazuli sky it came crumbling down,

The maple spread its tender pale-red buds

spreads them full across the window
The blood from last evening still has not stopped.

Everyone was watching me.

Again something tepid welled up,

not knowing whose mouth would spew it forth.

Fitfully I slept.

Now again what passed in waves -

the summit of that extinct volcano -

a crystalline procession of wind.

Night

April 28, 1929

This makes two hours.

The blood from the throat does not stop.

Outside, there are no longer any people.

Trees and such quietly breathe and bless the spring night.

This very place is spring's training ground,

The Bodhisattva discards a hundred million bodies,
For all Buddhas here reverently attain nirvana and abide.

Tonight, here where no one would see me anymore,
"It's all right if I die alone."
Countless times I'd steeled my resolve thus,
While telling myself over and over—
Again that tepid warmth
Whenever fresh blood surged forth—
Pale-faced and faintly trembling, I lay afraid.

Sickness

What in the world is the reason for this?

My breath grew gradually shorter.

Now it had completely stopped.

When stopped, it became painful.

Must I make a point of drawing breath?

……The room filled with snow-light……
Even though I painstakingly drew breath,
this time too it grows gradually shorter—
a proper geometric progression.

The common ratio was certainly three-fourths.
Drowsy.
Drowsy.

So drowsy.

If I sleep just because I'm drowsy, I'll probably die.

I must truly exert myself with all my might.

I must resolutely open my eyes!
Eyes!! Eyes!!! Open

Right.

I must take an extremely large breath once more.

Another geometric progression?

This is hopeless.

I have no time to bid farewell to anyone.

Go to sleep already

Go to sleep.

No—it’s not time to die yet.

I must exert myself.

Open eyes.

Place hands on chest and breathe in.

...Mother in the kitchen, the sound of water...

〔And I suppose I will soon die〕

And I suppose I will soon die.

What on earth am I?

Countless times I reconsidered and scoured through...

Even when told it was so, even when taught otherwise,
Ultimately it still remained unclear.

What I call 'I'—

[Below is blank]

(February 1929)

I shall soon die

Today or tomorrow
Once again I ponder what this 'I' truly is.
The self ultimately amounts to nothing beyond the Law.

The body is bones and blood and flesh and—

Those are ultimately various molecules.

The combination of several dozen types of atoms.

Atoms are ultimately one with the void.

The external world is no different.

I thus perceive my body and the external world.

They exert their influence on these various materials.

That law is what I call 'I'.

When I die and return to the void—
When I perceive myself once more—

What coexisted there was solely one law.

They say that primordial law is named the Lotus Sutra of the Wonderful Dharma.

That people possess the bodhi mind causes them to believe in bodhisattvas.

To believe in bodhisattvas constitutes belief in Buddha.

Though hundreds of millions of Buddhas exist without number, even Buddhas are Dharma.

The primordial law of all Buddhas is none other than the Lotus Sutra of the Wonderful Dharma.

I take refuge in the Lotus Sutra of the Wonderful Dharma

Life too is the life of the Wonderful Dharma
Death too is the death of the Wonderful Dharma
From this present body to the Buddha-body, one devoutly upholds