Pathway to Japanese Literature

This is the beloved ditty of my boyhood days.

Now, to the childhood companions of days gone by, I dedicate this single volume.

O-hana, O-chō, O-koma, Koharu—
Tarō—Jirō—Kusunosuke—
Truly, you were the first listeners of my clumsy grass flute.

TO

NÉMU-NO-KI NÉMU-NO-KI

NÉYA SYANSÉ.

OKANÉ GA NATTARA

OKYA SYANSÉ.

Dontaku

Singing Clock

At the boundary of dream and reality,

A faintly white morning bed.

Though there was no mother beside me,

That song of the singing clock—

Why did that song feel so sorrowful?

Pinky Swear

With fingers entwined—"Lady Mary...

By no means shall I tell a lie."

You, in your youth, having spoken thus—

You did not shed tears.
Profoundly,

The rain falls upon the two.

And upon snowdrop petals.

Spinning Wheel

A pale, drowsy spring afternoon.

Quietly revolved the spinning wheel.

The thread emerging from the young woman’s finger—

The pale melancholy thread of dreams.

The song the young woman sang—

A distant, beloved song of longing.

Unceasingly revolved the spinning wheel.

Dreams and songs, tangled and revolving.

Human trafficker.

The autumn setting sun glowed crimson,

Dragonflies flitted away—but to whom?

From the shadow of the wall—a blue hood.

“It’s a human trafficker! A human trafficker!”

“Where can we run? Where can we hide?!”

A red dragonfly flits about.

Six Jizo statues

Back-to-Back Six Jizo Statues

While they dwelled through the passing years and months,

Never once had anyone seen their faces.

But well, it was no trouble at all—or so it seemed.

No matter how often one came to see them, they did not age.

Red, faded bibs.

Echigo lion dance

The sorrow of the Kakubei lion dance—
Parents beat the drums while children danced.
When they gazed up at the mountain pass from below,
They wondered if these might be the mountains of Echigo,

They ended up weeping together.

The hardships of the Kakubei lion dancers.

The reincarnation cycle’s small wheel of

As days at the dragonfly's edge darkened,

Even were they to seek lodging at an inn, they had no coin.

Rain fell on Ahino’s earthen hills.

Red Berries

On a day when snow fell, the little rabbit—
Longing to eat the red berries—
Left its mountain home under parental resentment.
It came all the way to the castle gate, but—
The red berries were nowhere to be seen.

The path remained unknown as daylight faded. Beneath the long corridor’s window lay something red. Stealthily creeping closer to investigate—this was the princess’s hairpin’s coral bead. Whether it was edible or not—the rabbit grew sad.

Bell

The village's designated bell ringer,
absentminded because of how fine the moon was,
ended up forgetting even to ring his bell,
longing for lamplit streets.

He emerged from mountains toward port.
As day darkened at mountain temple,
the bell did not toll.
The Village Headman hurriedly arrived.
When he came to see,

Moonlight shone upon the Ibe Tokkuri.
Crickets were chirping.
It was not as if this were Atre's horse.
Whether the bell tolled or not,
it was no doing of children.

At the chinquapin tree in the back garden
A grapefruit-like moon appeared.

Departing Spring

The sadness of departing spring—
The hoary-headed dandelion’s
Down involuntarily flies away.
Each time the wind blows, it flies away.
Youth, in vain, becomes a bald pate.

The sadness of departing spring—

Plucking a thistle flower,

Tap-tapped—and out came a horse.

Gently brushed—and out came a cow.

They emerged only to go hopping away.

Medicine.

Snow fell silently and ceaselessly.

The side pressed against the kotatsu

When it throbbed dully again.

Snow fell silently and ceaselessly.

White cold powdered medicine

When it stung the fevered tongue.

Snow fell silently and ceaselessly.

The yellow bag’s lithographic—

The curse of a monstrous insect?

Snow fell silently and ceaselessly.

Silver-glinting cement circles.

Tonomo was the breath of piled snow.

Sparrow Dance

Blue brows halt mid-motion—

With a gold ink-painted fan,
Gently beckon, and they come swiftly.

Fluttering open, it sent them bursting away.

The charm of the sparrow dance—

"Yanre yare yare yasemē!
Kyoto town's Yaseume!
Reveal what mirrors show!"

As they cried "Ah! Ah! Ah!" in wonder,
The little sparrows attired like servants
Flew away beyond the mountains.

Migratory Birds

In longing for Japan's spring

From Shiokhovsk Cape,
Migratory birds crossed far across the waves.

They built a nest on the village headman’s eaves.
They hatched six chicks, but—
three of the chicks died.
The remaining three ate the persimmon leaves’
caterpillars because they liked them.
When the persimmons ripened

Leaving the islands of Japan behind
Toward a homeland they had yet to see
Parent and offspring departed together.

Memories of the Storeroom

The ship was Sakebune Father’s ship.
Hoisting thirty-five tan sails—
Genkainada’s summer clouds.
You were the singer of Bakan songs,
The blue jewel worn in your hair,
The fickle southern Negres’
Heartfelt offerings.
Awaiting tidings from the wind with growing despair,
Contemplation in the shadow of the andon,
She brushed back disheveled hair at her temples.

Is it the sorrow of the silver ornament?
Is it the loneliness of mother’s arms?

In Secret

Long ago in Azen, there was a king.

In admiration of the flowers blooming in the fields,
Alone, he went to the countryside, but

Suddenly, the rain began to fall,

The king was buried up to his navel.

From then on, even if the king forgot,
Never again did he set foot in the countryside.

Fragments

1

What good is Dontaku now?

Children don't go to plays.
Even wanting to ride horses, there are none.
This world is utterly dull.

2

If houses had no roofs,

It would always be moonlit nights—how delightful that would be.

If that gatekeeper were to die,

I could take that persimmon and eat it—how nice that would be.

If there were no clocks in the world,

Lonely nights would be troublesome.

3

If the Earth were star-shaped candy

the sea were ink，the mountain trees—

if they were candy and cinnamon—

What should I drink?

Even the schoolteacher didn’t know．

Even His Majesty the King didn’t know．

4

The beauty of this red mushroom.

Children eat something poisonous.

Why did God create this, I wonder.

If it’s something poisonous—why on earth

Why did He make it so beautiful?

5

Playing house is all well and good,

Always, I’m the child role.
A child being a child—
What’s funny about that?

6

No matter how hungry they are,

Japanese children do not cry.
It is tears that weep.

7

Rain fell on the grave.

“Rain, rain, don’t fall—if you must fall,

Builds a nest on the Five-Story Pagoda
The poor little bird gets wet.

The wind blows through the pine treetops.

Wind, wind, don’t blow—if the wind blows,

The young kite that left the nest today
would lose its way and cry out.

8

Rain fell from the wide sky

On the forest and on the pasture

On the sensitive plant and on the little birds

Though it fell upon everything,

Upon children it did not fall.

That was because the child’s mother

Because she dressed them in raincoats.

9

I swallowed the loquat seed.
Into my belly went a loquat tree—
Hearing it would sprout, I cried even as I waited—
Waited for loquats to grow—
Yet no matter how long I waited, never did it sprout.

10

The day of fretful plovers too draws to a close.

The faint glow of a hazy spring.

This Yura oni’s pitiable state

Unraveled and emerged without foundation.

11

The medicine seller of Etchu Toyama
A jet-black dragonfly darted out,
perched on the handle of a white bat-shaped umbrella,
then perched on a sunflower leaf
before darting off only to return again.

12

Pilgrim, O pilgrim,

Beyond the mountains, rain seems near.

Send hail, send beans.

Without beans, this road is forbidden.

13

If I looked at the foothills from between my legs—what a view as lovely as a painting it was. If one were to ask, “Which town is this?”—that was my village.

That was my village.

14

When they ceased working the shuttle and sang—

――If it were a tangled thread,
It might come undone―
But since the thread snapped―
There’s nothing to be done.

The days when I was a boy

puppeteer

"Auspicious indeed，auspicious indeed!"

"Truly auspicious，auspicious indeed!"

The frayed edge of the navy fabric curtain.

The puppeteer seemed to have come.

When I peered out from behind Mother’s shadow,

the puppeteer’s youthful

“Oh, whatever shall I do?” she wept,

the nape of her neck pale and pitifully endearing.

The puppet Koharu too sobbed quietly.

Was this the pathos of existence, or merely spring rain?

Mother’s sleeve that received tears.

Snow.

On my red scarf
Softly falls and suddenly vanishes
Spring snow that never settles.

If this were sugar,

The nurse too would come out to eat it.

The Russian sarasa quilt

I slipped out quietly to gather snow
and tried touching it with a silver hair ornament.
Peony snow in O-some's hair.

In front of the door of the seventh warehouse.

When I beckoned, Uji-san
pressed a white hand to her face

Uji-san gave me a twisted rice cake.

The back of the storehouse stood dimly dark.

The fragrance of Kishu mandarins hung faint.

The yellow-covered books that stained fingers—

I read a picture book at the kotatsu.

Looking out from the window, the downtown area's—

On the glass door of the corner barbershop,

Osaka Kudari Ganjiro's

Haru Kyōgen banner painting

Was being snowed upon.

Hide-and-seek.

In the bean field, with Mii-san,
the two of us hid and waited.

From afar came the demon's calling voice.

Though it drifted on the wind,
fluttering about was the shadow of a bird.

Wait though we might, linger though we may, the demon never came.

Above the forest, the moon emerged.

Postal box.

What should the postal box do—
It probably wouldn’t arrive that quickly.

To my Kobe Aunt

My favorite caramel

I prepared to send.

I entrusted it to the postal box,

The morning after about three sleeps,

My favorite caramel

stayed properly with me.

Bandit

The wet nurse's hometown lay beyond parted grasses—
Deep within mountains folded upon mountains.

One day, as「柹のつくり」、80-6］,

I went to visit the wet nurse.

I fastened the gift at my waist.

『柹のつくり』、80-9］ held up a parasol.

Along the red clay mountain path,

I trudged along the mountain path in the afternoon.

Having grown weary from walking, by the roadside—

I sat down at the base of a solitary pine tree,
While eating Toraya manju,
While I was resting in the shade of a tree,

A bandit wearing a bearded warrior mask

suddenly appeared.

Though I thought to remain seated,

In a voice that permitted no resistance,

“The hour when your companions will promptly arrive.”

『柹のつくり』、82-1］ said in a deliberately loud voice.

“Why would any companions come?”

I asked 『柹のつくり』、82-3］.

In the midst of this, the bandit
Drew the long sword at his waist,
Slinking closer he came.

When I thought he might kill me now—

Without committing murder, he came to a halt.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
When I answered truthfully,
“Good children,” he praised as he

He descended the mountain pass.

The wet nurse heard this and burst into laughter.

"What bandit could that possibly be?"

That was a woodcutter.

Childhood Dreams

Among the dreams, one took this form.

Wearing a blue hood,

On the human trafficker’s back creaked a burden.

When rounding the mountain’s cape,

Hiroshige’s sea flashed into view.

The traveling ascetic had shouldered

The dreadful tengu mask -

Though they fled and fled, they were overtaken.

They escaped all the way to Ise Province,

Hid at Futamigaura,

Where stood a hut of the short-haired

And Lady Awashima’s thousand paper cranes.

One bird took flight, then another

From atop the rock and from the torii gate -

A sky filled with scale-patterned clouds.

Their face still downturned, they wept.

Mugwort rice cake

One day on the way to school,
A yellow bag lay fallen.
When I picked it up and looked—what in the world?

It was a wallet.

“Oh no, this is terrible! This is terrible! Picking up coins means being reported as a missing person! You’ll be summoned by the authorities—how terrifying!” As everyone urged haste, they left it behind.

With the wallet dangling from a finger,
What in the world should I do now?

At that very moment, Teacher
graciously arrived and said, “Well, well.”
The Teacher took the wallet.
Then I returned home, but
the wallet still weighed on my mind.
Mother’s heartfelt mugwort rice cake

How could this possibly pass through my throat?

I was crying without eating.

Lie

Thrown stone

If something lands atop the torii gate,
Any wish shall be granted,
The Deity declared.
They gathered beneath the torii gate

Tarō, Jirō, and Kusunosuke

When asked what they wanted,

Tarō said: "A toy dog."

Jirō said: "A wooden horse."

Kusunosuke said: "A live horse."

The stone was cast with wishes.
It successfully landed upon the torii gate.
Though it had landed upon the torii gate,

Still nothing had been granted.

Dontaku

Dontaku, it's Dontaku!

Today’s Dontaku started from dawn!

At the street corner, the early-rising

The candy seller’s drum was beating.

“Ah! Come one, come all! Here it is now!”

This comes from Nagasaki in Kyushu—

Maruyama’s famous Jagarako candy

A treat to rouse your spirits, little ones—

*Sweet, spicy, sour, and—*

The golden jade lotus’s hide-and-seek

“Ottsuke-pō no kinrai-rai!”

The precincts of Kannon Hall

A mechanical peep-show dog performance

“Come see for yourself—proof’s in the seeing!

Caught alive in Hokkaido—

A hairless Momon'ga!

The painted signboards tell no lies.

If it ain’t alive, you won’t need your coins!”

“Pitiable is this child here—
Karma’s wheel turns like a waterwheel!
Issun-bōshi’s tightrope walking!
Behold! The thousandth and first—
Don’t cry even if the bell tolls!”

“Oh ho ho ho! Here it comes now!
Peep show for eight mon with Tenpō coins!
The flower of Edo with its eight hundred and eight neighborhoods!”

The greengrocer’s daughter was heard amidst the clamor:
“She’s fifteen, a Hinoeuma year.”
“You must be fourteen.”

“No, no—I am fifteen.”

“Yaoya Oshichi’s punishment—”

“If this catches your eye, esteemed patron—”

Postal courier

“Postal service here!
For the mistress’s official business—heave-ho!”

From behind the postal courier
The children from the school outskirts
Followed along in rhythm.

“Postal service here!
For the mistress’s official business—heave-ho!”

Edo Sightseeing

“I’ll show you Edo.”
Genroku
pinched his ears and tugged them upward.
Though he endured the pain and looked east,
which was Edo? Nothing but mountains.
“What do you suppose it looked like?”
“I could see it, but Asakusa too—”
“Ueno’s still nothing but mountains too.”

Seven Peaches

Seven people...

One of those playmates
He drowned and was carried away by the water.
The poppy's head on the water's surface
Floating and sinking, appearing and disappearing.

“How dare you mimic the dead!”

Chūta, the idiot, claps his hands.

He dove into the water for water chestnut fruits.

He had thought he could go retrieve them.

People from their homes and fields
With an air of urgency,

They ran to the river and gathered.
One entered the water.
From among those on a small boat,
one carried the corpse ashore.
“Dead! Dead!” he chanted while dancing.

Chūta went through the village making his rounds.

A funeral bier clad in white garments

under the scorching midday sun whimpered—

The funeral bier entered Toribe Mountain, though—
They knew not what it signified.

When one went to the grave,
He bent six of the seven fingers.
He left one behind, though—
Is it that one dies and vanishes?

Sometime later, they returned from the grave
They would divide the seven peaches.

Monkey and Crab

I was the monkey and my younger sister was
a pitiful crab.
The monkey sat alone eating persimmon fruit.
He sat on a tree and ate.
“Brother, could I have one?”
The pitiful crab said.

“Here, take this,” he said, tossing an astringent persimmon.

I tried throwing it, but through Mother’s intervention,

she had been given plenty of good ones instead.

Kato Kiyomasa

Kiyomasa of the paper armor

A bamboo spear for slaying tigers.

He had been sleeping on the roof.

He thrust at the cat.

The tiger tumbled down from the roof.

The tiger hid beneath the eaves.

Even fierce Kiyomasa—

Kiyomasa worried about the tiger’s whereabouts.
Night after night, he saw frightening dreams.

Forbidden Fruit

To the white wall

For the crime of drawing playful pictures,
I was confined to a dark storehouse.
Though I called and shouted, not a soul came -
no one came to save the little birds.
Exhausted from weeping before the long chest,
when I opened the lid, the mimosa fruit remained unstained.
In the dream-scent of "unknown worlds,"
the little spirit did not cling to the body.
When the summer sun shone through the window,
Kunisada's drawn picture books -
"Nise Murasaki" paulownia flowers -
scattered on Hikaru no Kimi's sleeve.

In Maya's valley they fell softly scattering,
When the Kalaviṅka bird's voice was heard,
Prince Siddhartha too shed royal tears.
Entangled in the demonic spider's silken thread,
Princess Shironui and the shared bedchamber's
Wind bore dreams of white sails onward.
Before I knew it, I must have drifted asleep.
Upon the storehouse's second-floor wire mesh,
The crimson sunset blazed its fierce glow.
When chill came, Mother's lap became my pillow.

Japanese Maiden

Evening Primrose

Wait though I may, linger though I might—for one who never comes.

Evening Primrose’s Pathos

Tonight, it seems the moon won’t show either.

Forget-me-not

Wrapping myself in the sleeve-borne wind,

Evening after evening of melancholy thoughts.

When I gazed far across the field's edge,

the light of the window from which I had parted—

A tearful light indeed.

Holding out my sleeve and leaning against a tree,

the torn and falling textile pattern of letters

Would that I could mend and bind them once more.

Forget-me-nots,

You whose name—
Did even the one who named you weep?

Summer Twilight

Tanhōru’s bell
When it rang out crisply,

The Trappist nuns

They quietly offered evening prayers
They mourned the spring that had passed
Yanagiya’s daughter
wore a flashy yukata

Yanagiya’s daughter eagerly went to buy bell crickets.

—Summer twilight.

Things Lost

From the evening of the summer festival

Seeking the things I had lost,

I lit the crimson lanterns
You wandered about, sobbing.

Theatrical Performances

In the dreary stillness of a snow-falling night

[Persimmon-dyed crepe [123-5]] kosode carried over the shoulder

...denchūjya harihijiya

Shima-san Kon-san Nakanori-san...

Dance-weary bush clover sleeves

She draped a kosode over her shoulders.

A tear-streaked performance

“Even though you must be cold, I’ll dress you now.”

This snow kept piling up like this.

Bouquet

In idle whimsy

I pick flowers and arrange them, yet...

No one comes to linger,
My heart lies deeply still.
Yet still I cannot cast them away,

I counted the evening bells.

Twilight

It was twilight.
The sadness—
holding it in my sleeve, when I paused—
quince flowers fluttering down
scattered into hair, their fragrance lingered.

It was twilight.
They inquired of the road—
the still-youthful traveler’s
nostalgic mole upon their brow,
their retreating figure.
The one who never returns.

I went seeking flowers and never returned.

In longing for the one who never returned,
I climbed the hill and called your name, yet—

How many mountains and rivers—white clouds of—

Alas, the mountain echo has returned.

Good things

“Because you said ‘I shall give good things’”

Pinky swear—praying mantis—I shall not lie.

Because you spoke

I waited for you outside the gate.
O clove flowers by the well.

To an unknown island

Since leaving the mountains of my homeland,

I set out on my journey.

When I gazed into the distance, my tears knew no end.

Do I long for Mother in my homeland?

She’s not here.

Do I long for my companion back home?

They’re not here at all.

In the sadness of my lost self of old

I have vanished.

The road of this transient journey had ended,

I stood on a cape where even irises could not be discerned.

All that had been lost—

To seek them now would be futile.

So be it, so be it

Of an unknown island

My very form—

Let my spirit be renewed.

Come now, come now

To an unknown island.

An embroidery-threaded ball.

…Hiyah fuyah, O-Koma-san

The tobacco smoke of Jōhachian…

Bounce, bounce, bounce goes the embroidered ball.

When it parts from white fingers,

Like a butterfly toying with a vegetable leaf

Helplessly, it drifts back.

From the swaying Date-obi,

Edo-purple day darkens.

…Miyah yoyah

Yūgiri-san…

Sleeve

If deftly avoided, it goes limp—

Resignedly collapses limply against me.

――My sleeve.

Though I cover the shy face,

Joy too abundant to contain spills forth.

――My sleeve.

My sadness too

My joy too

You know everything.

――Detestable sleeve.

A heart in fading

From the night I betrayed my mother,

If made to lean against the white wall,

Dayflower blossoms have bloomed.

The restless evening moon’s

If vanishing into dream paths,
The insects' cries trailed off into silence.

Young sparrow

Tokodondoko peep-hiyarariyaa!

The wind blows through the wheat field.

A child strayed from the troupe of performers.

The transience of a child’s heart—

……In the chisa tree behind my house,

Three sparrows perched.

A sparrow spoke thus—

"The bride who came last night,

what could you be crying so sadly for?

You’re crying…"

The song from last night’s play—

now, pierced by my own circumstances,

she weeps softly, drop by drop.

Foreign Spring

The nostalgia of a Japanese girl

Peonies, Chinese peonies, mountain cherries

Fastening a gold-brocaded damask obi

Wearing a kimono with trailing sleeves,

Vermilion-lacquered clogs light as down.

Clink-clank, clink-clank she goes on her way.

If asked where she goes—

In her maiden bloom, with flowers and such—

To the afterlife, ever more devoutly, she goes to pay homage at the temple.

Paying homage at the temple.

To the white wall

Two people wrote.

“Things unknown”

Two people wrote.

“Joy”

Two people wrote.

“Goodbye.”