Pathway to Japanese Literature

I. Women and Faith

There existed a renowned philosopher who asserted that while men contributed to human civilization by inflicting wounds, women served societal progress through more noble means—namely, by binding those wounds. Was it not generally women’s vocation to bandage these wounds of human culture?

When all was said and done, men were unruly by nature. Their nature proved crude compared to women’s. It had been fashioned thus by nature itself. That was their role—to fight and to create. Yet by design, even when men appeared to oppress women, they gradually came to respect them, heeded their words, and ultimately became inwardly conquered by women. Societal progress was, in a sense, the history of men being conquered by women’s spiritual power.

Capable and admirable men do not take pleasure in oppressing women; rather, they listen attentively to what women have to say.
The fact that America’s Prohibition Act was passed and enforced for so long stands as proof of how formidable women’s inner moral influence truly is—for men, this demands no small measure of self-restraint, compelling them to heed women’s words even with bitter expressions.
Such is the curious nature of what we call civilization.
Were confrontation direct, men could effortlessly trample women underfoot.
Yet when appealed to through spiritual power and moral persuasion, men cannot help but cast off their helmets.
Those who still crush women beneath their heels are beasts—they are barbarians.
Such men are scorned among their own kind, winnowed away by natural selection until they vanish.

Therefore, women’s role in life was to soften, harmonize, and purify human existence through their innate spirituality, and to inspire men toward righteousness and enterprise.

However, women’s spirituality cannot be expected to emit its true radiance unless it attains religious devotion.
Spirituality resembles raw ore or unrefined silk—without polishing and tempering, its genuine luster will never emerge.
Buddhism teaches that “all sentient beings possess Buddha-nature,” declaring that every living creature, whether human or beast, carries within them the seed capable of becoming a Buddha.
Yet this seed must be polished.

In modern times, while new Japanese women had opened their eyes to science and art, they cast aside religion as antiquated and gave it no regard; of late, it was heartening that a trend had emerged to once more retrieve this religion—which might be called the supreme treasure of human nature—from the mire, reexamine it, and polish it anew.

A woman without religious devotion was like a jeweled cup without a bottom.
There was nothing more noble than women who had opened their eyes to the wisdom of faith.
Otherwise, no matter how clever, talented, or beautiful they might be, something would be lacking.
And what they lacked was the deepest element of all.
Moreover, even being generally well-mannered and compassionate still fell short by a breath.
That righteousness and compassion had to be tempered in the fire of faith, softened, their edges smoothed, and made impoverished.

One must not forget that without faith, a woman cannot be fully realized as her complete self.
To discard faith as something old and unnecessary and give it no regard is truly a shallow-minded act.

Moreover, it is equally mistaken to view faith as conflicting with lifestyle preferences or conventions deemed modern or chic, or to consider it incompatible with the subtle acuity and decisiveness required in professional or life’s struggles.
Faith is not something so narrow and inflexible.
The Buddhist Dharma is called “the form of no-form,” and thus can transform into any shape.
The heart of faith may freely be wrapped—whether in ink-dyed robes, a bridal furisode, or an evening dress.
Whether in a grass-thatched hermitage, the concrete structure of Tsukiji Honganji Temple, or a third-floor apartment, one may freely situate the body of faith.
The heart of faith does not reside in such forms.
If modern is your preference, any degree of ultra-modern is acceptable—the problem lies in lacking a heart of faith enveloped within it.
It is superficial.

Moreover, things like free competition in one’s profession or tactics in life—they may be pursued to one’s heart’s content. Simply, there need only be the heart of nembutsu immediately present alongside them. The faith of Jōdo Shinshū Buddhism takes this as its central tenet; one must not regard faith as merely something refined and meant for formal occasions. It differs from thinking of it as venerating Buddhist statues within temples. If the heart of nembutsu underpins them, even free competition and tactics will naturally transform in nature. This inner world of sentiment, imperceptible from the outside, is one of boundless depth and breadth—that is the realm of faith. And it remains limitless no matter how deeply one probes; as one gradually delves further into it, the profound and subtle nuances become apparent.

It is this that constitutes true elevation as a human being, for through it one can ultimately attain the state of Buddha transcending humanity itself. When this occurs, women achieve their fundamental aspiration of attaining Buddhahood.
And even when one becomes a Buddha, the essence of enlightenment lies within the very state of being human.
It is truly regrettable that one would turn away from this precious Dharma—which remains open even to those living in apartments, adopting ultra-modern attire, wielding new professions, and battling through life’s struggles while still attaining Buddhahood.

Modern girls and modern women without faith are largely superficial. Even if not entirely so, they still lack one crucial element. However, modern girls and modern women who possess faith instead develop a remarkably distinctive charm and grace arising from the contrast between their depth and classical qualities.

The reason lies in this: while their keen sensitivity to modern ideas and sensations demonstrates vibrant vitality and sharp intellect, their profound interest in religion—which may initially appear antiquated and superstitious—stems from an intuitive grasp of life’s mysteries. This very duality serves as proof that neither their modern sensibilities nor mystical inclinations are superficial.

Though venturing into personal examples, women like Ms. K.O. and Mrs. K.I.—whom this magazine’s readers likely know—are thoroughly modern in their tastes, attire, and lifestyle, yet remain women of Buddhist faith. By any measure, their character lacks any superficiality.

This does not mean one’s lifestyle tastes must be modern. It simply illustrates that religion is not impeded by a lifestyle’s newness or oldness.

The core of faith does not lie in such stylistic matters, but in the question of achieving spiritual peace and resolve.
It lies in this single life I have received becoming one with the universe and settling into a state of mind where it is acceptable to live or to die.
That is the primary concern for humanity—for women and men alike.
The unreasonableness of claiming religion is unnecessary lies in the fact that it would mean this primary concern is also unnecessary.
The determination of this primary concern is what is called "separating from life and death."

When this primary concern was determined, various workings of the mind naturally emerged from that mental state.
The eyes shone with wisdom, and the spirit became clear.
Even amidst various desires, worries, and conflicts, there existed an immediate calmness aligned with them.
Shinran said of this: “The wind of supreme virtue calms the waves of all afflictions.”
“Samsara is Nirvana,” he declared—and this was the Great Nirvana.
Even when one attained Nirvana, men remained men and women remained women.
Women must persist above all in their natural feminine innocence; they need not become like men nor turn androgynous.
The beauty of womanly spiritual essence was thereby fully manifested.

However, the state of Nirvana cannot be immediately attained.
To reach it, one must undergo various paths of life and pilgrimages of the heart.
While seeking faith, if one remains sincere in their current life—earnest, zealous, and honest—they will gradually approach that state of enlightenment.
Therefore, when we speak of “women of faith,” this ordinarily refers to women who are seekers of faith—and that is precisely as it should be.
Yet if from the very start they scorn faith as antiquated and lack the desire to seek it, there can be no opportunity for wondrous wisdom to blossom.

It either becomes self-righteous arrogance or settles for half-hearted complacency.

Virgins should abide by the yearnings and troubles inherent to virginhood; wives and mothers amidst household duties, child-rearing responsibilities, and domestic cares; working women amid life’s fragmentation and the grime of toil—each tasting life’s bitterness, enduring while hoping for betterment, and continuing to seek faith.

As long as they did not lose sincerity in seeking faith—no matter how they stumbled in their steps, committed errors, fallen into despair, or sunk into poverty and sin’s defilement—these were assuredly events occurring within Buddha’s vessel of salvation. All such trials could become catalysts for genuine faith to arise—faith reaching that undying life of Nirvana.

Since all else was ultimately but ephemeral illusion subject to birth and destruction, what they needed fear was not errors, transgressions, or ruin—but rather insufficiency of sincerity in seeking faith.

II. Maternal Love

When dust entered my eye, my mother would quietly lay me down, expose her breast, and let two or three drops of milk fall into it.
The soft milk seeping into my eyelids moistened the eye that had been prickling with dust, washing the particles away.

Whenever I remember my deceased mother, the image of her from my childhood—letting that milk drip into my eyes—floats most vividly before me.
Dear, warm mother’s love—tinged with a somewhat animalistic texture!

The mother of Mr. Shigeo, owner of Iwanami Shoten, cultivated fields in the Shinano countryside and sent him funds for his school expenses.
When she occasionally came up to the capital, even if Mr. Iwanami thought to at least show her around Tokyo, she would promptly return home once her business was done.
She had worked solely to enable her son to study.
And when Mr. Iwanami had splendidly succeeded as a bookstore owner of principle, his mother had already passed away, leaving him unable to fulfill his filial devotion.

When Gandhi sought to go to London to study, his mother—acting from a pious heart characteristic of an Indian mother—was reluctant to permit him, fearing her son would be tainted by Europe’s corrupting influences.
She finally relented only after making him swear an oath that such a thing would never occur.

When Shinran Shōnin was still a young acolyte training in Buddhism, he lectured on sutras at the imperial court and was granted a reward of cloth. Hoping to share this honor with his mother and bring her joy, he sent a messenger to deliver it to her in Taima Village. However, she promptly returned the gift and instead sent back a stern, admonishing letter.

“Since I had you ascend [to monastic life], though I have agonized day and night over your solitude, I rejoiced at raising you to become a noble monk—yet now you mingle at the Imperial Court, change your robes to purple and blue hues, and accept alms! How bitterly I regret that you have failed to become a saint free from fame and profit.
What use is there in having your name known by those bound by the same delusions in the night of dreams?
May you, after long years perfecting enlightenment, raise your name before the Buddha…”

The forms in which maternal love manifests are, I believe, generally threefold as exemplified above: instinctive emotion; sacrificial labor for the material needs of upbringing and education; and strict admonishments coupled with earnest appeals for spiritual edification.

Maternal love that is deficient in animalistic, instinctive emotion is boneless love.
This is eternally the driving force of maternal love.
Without this, we could never hold mothers in such dear remembrance.
I never fail to be moved whenever I see a mother ape holding her child at the zoo.
This is indeed the prototype of “the Holy Mother Mary.”
Even the most sacred of Madonnas—van Eyck’s Madonna—must spring from this mother ape’s instinctual emotions to be a true Madonna.
The nursing, the caressing, the vigilant care against enemies—I find even these moves me to tears.
The mother ape I saw at Mukōgaoka Yuenchi—in her eyes, brows, and around her cheeks—I felt as if there even drifted a gentle glimmer of spirituality.

A mother’s embrace, cheek rubbing, kiss, stroking of hair—even occasional light smacks—should forever be preserved as expressions that actualize maternal love.
Tending to urination, handling diapers, soothing night crying—all forms of care directly related to a child’s physical and physiological needs are indispensable to maternal love.

A film like *Mother’s Hand* contains such an abundance of this kind of care and attentiveness that one can scarcely fathom how vividly it captures the love inherent to motherhood.
Though the love of a cow licking her calf has long been disparaged as mere animal doting and cited as a negative example, if such primal tenderness were lost, maternal love would be castrated.

In cases where mothers work sacrificially for their children’s upbringing and educational expenses, this mainly occurs with widowed mothers who have no father present; however, success stories and similar accounts seem to feature this situation very frequently.
The mothers of General Booth, Gotō Shinpei, and Sano Katsuya are also among them.
Moreover, in poor families, even when there is a father present, the mother works sacrificially for the expenses of her child’s upbringing and education.
That this deepens the love between mother and child and becomes the wellspring of gratitude and trust goes without saying.
The child’s feelings toward a mother from a wealthy household—who may love them but did not need to work for them—and a mother who worked sacrificially for their upbringing and education would differ profoundly.
Labor and sacrifice are the conditions that sanctify maternal love.
Mr. Sano Katsuya’s mother wove cloth and peddled goods to fund her child’s education.
It is said that Gotō Shinpei sat formally in haori and hakama before his mother’s coffin, and each time a mourner arrived, he would place both hands on the floor and announce, “Mother, So-and-so has come to pay respects,” shedding tears.

Examples of mothers providing moral guidance to their children have been countless since ancient times.

The Mother of Mencius severing her loom; the tale of three moves; the Mother of Shinran Shōnin; Gandhi’s Mother; Booth’s Mother; Augustine’s Mother; and more recently, Takamura Kōun’s Mother—all encouraged, guided, and inspired their children to become wise and noble individuals.
That is a love risen beyond animalistic instinct to spiritual transcendence.
A child blessed with a mother possessing strictness knew fortune.
Such mothers proved rare.
Their influence endured through lifetimes—imparting from childhood onward an unyielding orientation to character.
While women’s greatest duty may lie in motherhood, among maternal responsibilities none surpasses nurturing children’s spirit and soul through moral guidance.

However, even nurturing a child's spirit and spirituality cannot make the child wholeheartedly respect or be influenced unless grounded in physical care and labor.
Leaving breastfeeding to a wet nurse, entrusting daily care to a maid, relying on a husband for school expenses—even if attempting only spiritual guidance—could yield no effective results.

Yet a mother who is merely educational and strict, showing not the slightest indulgence toward her child, lacks beauty.
There must exist delicate nuances of human warmth.
Particularly when children are young, being deliberately and unnaturally educational proves undesirable.
I dislike making children clasp hands at every meal.
Even when scolding "That's enough now," without moments like overturned bowls, maternal tenderness cannot take root.
At essential junctures of human nature, strictness must prevail.

Women must not forget that their mission as mothers also includes that of being "mothers who shape eras." With their heaven-bestowed spirituality and intuitive power, they must discern the trajectory of cultural-historical advancement for both history and society; resolve to urge and chastise men into guiding the era toward that course, and rise up themselves to strive for it. Such resolve must inevitably spur them to exert efforts toward having their children shape the era. Regarding their mission as mothers who shape eras, it must be said that Japanese women up to now have lacked sufficient awareness. Japan is now at a time when a great leap forward is being demanded of its domestic and international standing, and it is in the throes of giving birth to an epoch-making era of rebuilding the nation. At this critical juncture, Japanese women must not leave this undertaking solely to men, but awaken to their duty as "mothers who shape eras" and rise up.

Finally, maternal love must be called upon to make sacrifices for the public good.

For the safety of their homeland, for world peace, for humanity and civilization, they must sever their deepest affections and offer up their children as sacrifices.
Mary sacrificed Christ, and Lady Nogi sacrificed her two sons for this demand.
When compared to the biological, instinctive love from which it first arose, what a profound difference this presented!
Moreover, this too was an aspect of human maternal love.
The latter was elevated maternal love—maternal love illumined by the Path and the Law.
Therein lay human nobility.
For love, the Mother of Mencius whipped her own child, and the Mother of Shinran made her own child renounce the world.
That Lady Nogi sent her own child to the battlefield and Mary sent hers to the cross—we should regard this not as demands imposed by maternal duty, but as maternal love elevated and illumined by the Path and the Law.
It was precisely such a burden that we dared impose upon the human spirit—the spirituality inherent in motherhood.
It was such mothers that should be called eternal mothers.

The mother in Gorky’s novel *Mother* and the mother of Prince Busshi in my own work *Busshi Taishi’s Entry into the Mountains* depict maternal love elevated and illumined by this kind of Path and Law.

Several years ago, I wrote an essay titled *On the Various Stages of Feminine Beauty*.
Within it, I addressed all types of feminine beauty, proceeding from the lower ones proportionate to their contained stage of "goodness."
At the lowest rank stood “Stepmother,” followed by “Demon Woman” and “Wanton Woman”; ascending through “Lady,” “Noblewoman,” “Maiden,” and “Celestial Maiden,” with the Holy Mother positioned at the highest stage.
And among various depictions of the Madonna, when attempting to determine which was most beautiful, only Van Eyck’s Madonna and Dürer’s Madonna ultimately remained—and of these two, it was Dürer’s Madonna that survived to the end.

Van Eyck’s Madonna is adorned with noble jeweled ornaments but lacks the fullness of breasts to nurture a child; her hands are slender and supple, yet they do not seem able to bear the weight of the child she holds.
In contrast, Dürer’s Madonna wears a humble headscarf, yet her breasts swell healthily; her hands are chapped and rough, yet they suffice to hold the child firmly and seem capable of enduring diaper washing.
Van Eyck’s Madonna, who cannot nurture a child, has no qualification to be a “mother,” no matter how noble and beautiful she may be.
In real life, one should choose Dürer’s Madonna.
That is to say, a mother must be one who can endure the labor of nursing and caring for children—a Mary with weathered hands. For love is practice, and spiritual purity and nobility can only be attained through the practice of love.

(October 31, 1934)

III. Romantic Love—Marriage (Part 1)

Romantic love is the gateway through which women become mothers.
Without entering through true romantic love, one cannot become a good mother.
Through romantic love women select men possessing traits they wish to pass on genetically and instill in their future children.
This unconscious selection constitutes the very operation of love's instinct.
Yet it proves insufficient to view romance merely as motherhood's instrument.
Though flowers serve to bear fruit, fruits equally exist to make flowers bloom.
Romantic love must rather be seen as life's blossoming.
The spiritual faculties bestowed upon women by nature awaken vividly during love's instinctual development.
That beauty, strength - particularly spiritual yearning - manifest alongside romantic passion forms a wondrous and blessed truth we must recognize.
No love lacking aspiration toward virtue, goodness and the Path deserves to be called pure.
Women choose comely and vigorous men yet must seek those endowed with noble qualities inseparable from these traits.
Should virtue's yearning fail to ignite alongside passion when loving, we must deem such women deficient in essence.
For never does a woman's heart burn purer than when immersed in love.
Through this quality does romance strengthen young men - purifying and inspiring them.
When a nation's youth idle in frivolity without purpose or mission, its daughters' love inevitably loses primal ardor while selection grows lax.
Therefore must we never treat romance lightly.
Recent arguments favoring arranged marriages over love unions gain currency - yet I remain utterly opposed.
Marriage must always originate in romantic love.
What grave errors might spring from warping life's true path?
Admittedly matchmaking theories stem from social pragmatism - though love marriages seem naive at first glance, they prove otherwise in substance.

This kind of practical wisdom might have appeared astute, but because it strayed from the true path, they would later have its revenge exacted upon them.
If they were content with arranged marriages even in matters of love and compromised for practical convenience, who could know how other precious things in life might be treated?
Even a marriage that began with a farmer and farm woman’s tryst in the rice paddies surpassed an arranged marriage.
If they did not walk this great path of life straight, the rest became unthinkable.
Both the path of matrimony and maternal love would lose the foundation upon which they should have been built.
Was not the family’s cornerstone cracked if one did not bear sons—men whom she would wish to bear children for—that is to say, sons conceived in love?
Especially during the period of weariness that inevitably came in marital life—it was precisely then that true conjugal love had to be awakened—but if one had not entered through romantic love, they could not regain their footing during such times.

What use now in lamentation? This trembling heart had entrusted itself to you.

This is a poem from the Manyoshu, but such deeply felt resignation would not arise except in a couple who entered marriage through romantic love.

Since marriage must begin with romantic love in this manner, the attitude with which one loves must be solemn, pure, and wise.
Men and women who have few opportunities to interact with the opposite sex are prone to falling into hasty love; therefore, they must take care not to misjudge their partners.
For there are not a few dangerous men in society.
That said, an attitude of sizing up men solely to secure one’s future and refusing to love until every stone bridge has been tested for sturdiness would also prove troublesome.
For this robs them of charm and erases the very essence of what makes a maiden pure.
One must never forget that romantic love bears the inherent character of being fate rather than conscious choice.
For this is life’s great mystery—without that essence, love becomes a conventional transaction, a calculated assessment for securing one’s future, and thus its soul is stripped away.
To put it thus may seem to demand a difficult stance, but herein lies nature’s ingenuity—within the pure maiden’s instinct reside both the instinct for self-protection and the wisdom to discern her partner, bestowed as they are by nature.
Being a pure maiden is, after all, concluded to be the safest course.
“If you find yourself thinking, ‘This feels strange,’ then something is amiss.”
However, if your own heart is clouded, you will be taken advantage of and become unable to discern the other’s disguise.
Selfish desire and vanity are most detrimental.
Even someone remarkably beautiful may meet with harsh reckoning if they presume it natural that everyone should regard them with goodwill.
Moreover, the other party’s wealth proves unreliable.
For in today’s social conditions, unless it is substantial wealth, it will soon vanish.
If one does not resolve to rely on their partner’s character and talent while being prepared to contribute through dual income, their range of choices will become constrained.
One must consider it normal for a lover to lack money.
A tendency to marry men of social standing even without particular fondness for them is a daughter’s disgrace.
However, even in a love marriage, one will misjudge their partner unless they have interacted for at least two or three years.
Therefore, expressions of love—vows, especially their physical aspects—must be reserved until the very end.

I believe that Japan too must be granted at least some healthy opportunities for interaction between men and women.

Just as with all things of spiritual value, romantic love too was being miserably oppressed by distortions in social conditions and economic structures.
When making such ideal demands regarding romantic love, we felt our strength draining away as we contemplated them.
This was something for which we had to undertake a proper rebuilding of social institutions in general.
Those who asserted spiritual ideals had to inevitably embark upon fundamental movements for social reform.
And this matter became an obligation equally borne by all members of society—we ourselves, the youth, and the daughters alike.
When considering the material foundations for marriage among university-educated youths and rural youths, one could not help but feel gloomy.
Merely demanding ideals without the accompanying effort of reform would not suffice.
However, this did not mean it was permissible to compromise or diminish the ideals of romantic love until social reforms could be realized.
In the question of how far one could uphold spiritual nobility and the purity of romantic love amidst arduous realities lay humanity’s battle and the imperative to cherish life’s treasures.
One had to not forget that seeking excuses in one’s environment tended to be the mark of the spiritually weak.
Romantic love was, especially for women, a precious thing—the most precious treasure of their lives, of which there were not even three.
It was truly regrettable not to imbue that romantic love with the highest and grandest ideals possible.
I would rather have wished for young women to have romantic aspirations that were as intense and profound as their hearts desired.
That was because it was also a characteristic of Japanese daughters.
I earnestly admonished against handling romantic love carelessly, superficially, or shrewdly.
The romantic love that followed marriage passed through the phases of honeymoon and sweet home, gradually entering into the earnest and grounded endeavors of life.
Thus conjugal love emerged as the healthy progression of romantic love.
It was not what should have been called the cooling of romantic love, but rather what should have been regarded as its natural saturation.
At least, it was what Nietzsche described as the decline of romantic love for its reincarnation into something higher.
There might have been nothing as sweetly intoxicating as romantic love there, but there existed a more profound, deeply felt benevolence that should have been savored.

A harmonious, ideal couple forms a precious harmony akin to a polished mirror, the verdant pines, and the resonance of a koto.
A settled couple with children stands as a truly serene and beautiful existence.
Should there be no children, let them consider their shared work, path, and ideals as their offspring.
Moreover, a woman embodying both wifely and maternal qualities during this phase radiates feminine beauty in its fullest measure, suffused with mature refinement.
For women, romantic entanglement with men other than their husbands after reaching this stage becomes earth's most repugnant curse—a defilement of soul's nobility and inner peace.
Thus must Nietzsche's so-called law of singularity forever stand proclaimed as love and marriage's most blessed truth, notwithstanding worldly complexities.
(November 26, 1934)

IV. Romantic Love — Marriage (Part 2)

When confronting life’s supreme treasure that is romantic love, we must strive to avoid reducing it to a compromised and flattened state through material conveniences and practical life’s conditions—preserving instead its spirituality and mystery to our utmost capacity.
Matters like the soul’s nobility or life’s mystery only take form under an orientation striving to transcend materiality; they wither when material conditions become excuses.
Thus while previously mentioned pragmatic concerns remain unavoidable constraints, romantic love’s philosophy—its purest essence—inheres eternally within love’s own laws.
Therefore, eschewing parched and petty calculations, those who love must resolve to dwell within love’s spiritual realm—a domain inseparable from death, eternity, and beauty—where romance mirrors mist’s brooding haze, temple bells’ tolling depths, cherry blossoms’ riotous splendor, crimson camellias’ sinking fragrance, or standing at volcanoes’ rims and abysses’ edges.

Dost thou meet death for thy beloved?

Yea, I meet it.
To die for my beloved is a great happiness.
With joy indeed shalt thou die!

This is a line from the poem by D'Annunzio, the Italian love poet.

Alas! Since I set my heart on this era’s Emperor, naught but weeping echoes through dawn and dusk.

This was a song of love’s anguish by Lady Fujiwara, a woman of Japan’s Manyoshu era.
She had indeed pledged her devotion to ××.

As I plant rice, my hands bend low—does my lord again take the young one tonight and sigh?

This was the love sigh of a farmer’s daughter from the Manyoshu era.

Though I say I will not die no matter what, you draw near, faintly scented with white powder.

This is a Taisho-era love song composed on the brink of death by a gravely ill, impoverished youth.

I do not necessarily mean to sound tragic.
However, romantic love lacking tension, anguish, and overcoming is ultimately shallow and superficial.
The romantic love of today’s young women grows increasingly frivolous day by day.
It is becoming overly shrewd and superficially polished.

What manner of love did our ancestral Japanese maidens know? Let us briefly revisit their love poems.

Were I to voice my thoughts, they would prove too dreadful; thus have I dammed this seething heart—these raging mountains and rivers.

When burdened thoughts grew past bearing and I wandered forth, I came unknowing even of mountains and rivers.

O you who burn spring's plains after winter's seclusion—do you not burn? Yet burns my heart.

Though matters were only thus, I had pondered, deepening the depths of the Ina River.

They never spoke aloud of loves strong enough to kill; when longing struck, they crossed mountains and rivers like somnambulists; burning with passion, they willed even the plains to blaze; those unfaithful to them were cherished from their hearts’ deepest depths… All remained tautly restrained, thickly concentrated, fiercely held with conviction.

They professed love hastily yet parted lightly; they left if made to wait but briefly; even during trysts they kept mental tallies; though others might deceive them, they themselves would not be deceived—these aspects of today’s young women’s temperament demanded deep examination.
Newness and cleverness ought not to be such things.
In Japan’s current era, newness meant rather a return to the nation’s inherent character.
Hollywood stars who flitted from love to love were not wise.
Rather, they were foolish.
For even when love’s hues appeared diverse, they lost sight of its life and essence.
Those who truly savored romantic love immersed themselves in the very heart of its life and essence.
There, the sound of a bell tolled.
That was religion.
It was not hedonism.

Before Kiyohime there was a bell.
Before Oshichi there was fire.
And before Tachibana-hime there were churning waves.

The treasury of romantic love is not limited to pathos.
When love’s scorching heat passes through virtue’s harmony—advancing further toward wisdom like a tranquil lake and serenity like an open sky—this becomes love’s most noble ascent.
However high one climbs, its domain remains a world of poetry, ideals, and radiance.
No flat prosaic realm is this.
Such constitutes the enduring purity inherent to what we name life.
Even dwelling in box-like homes while spinning thread for sustenance, dreams and poetry never perish.
This is spiritual existence—the soul’s transcendent frontier.

Engage in blazing love; toil through hardships like potatoes being scrubbed; harmonize like flute and koto; and ultimately grow as quiet as wind caressing a pine.
That is the ideal of romantic love.

The lady Beatrice who guided Dante to virtue.
The celestial Gretchen of *Faust* Part II.

Though these were unfortunate or unrequited loves, through love they became prototypes for the purification and elevation of the human soul.
It is old but ever new—an eternal story.

Love must possess intense sensations, physicality, and profound emotions.
That is the distinctive quality of Japanese maidens.
In this regard, we must not forsake the tradition of those maidens who grace kabuki theater.
Beneath chic Western attire bustling with activity, never forget to preserve and revive this tradition; do not become desiccated women—flat as stone tablets, cold as statues.
A maiden who loses life's beauty, fragrance, and vital sap is no maiden at all.
But mark this well: love lacking that which strives to ascend beyond sensation, flesh, and emotion is base.
Without this element—this spiritual leaven—love will begin to reek like meat bereft of preservatives.
Excess sentiment erodes dignity.
When coquetry overflows, one sinks into the courtesan mold.
As Weininger declared, women inevitably cleave to either the maternal archetype or courtesan archetype.
And as I stated before, romantic love constitutes the passage through which a maiden becomes mother.
The love of a maiden—destined to be elevated to Holy Motherhood and purified—must inherently bear the imperative to transcend flesh and sensation.
In this sense, those devoid of Platonic imperative are no true maidens.
That constitutes a maiden's allure.
It is the secret breathing life into sensation and flesh.
One can only bow in wonder before the exquisite subtleties of divine craftsmanship.

The girl who once carried a koto plectrum box like a kappa—who became a maiden troubled by love, then a wife, then a fulfilled mother—until at last, with shining silver hair, lived peacefully together with her partner like the aged couple of Takasago: naturally entrusting themselves to Heaven’s will, their hearts untroubled by worldly concerns. That was the noble rhythm of days well lived.
This is indeed what we call pure blessing.

Saint Francis and Saint Clara lived their later years.

The august mountain where male and female ascetics dwell together—how splendid is Mount Tsukuba!

When two people shared both a common path and a shared cause, the love that blazed forth through these was also beautiful.
A married life blended into oneness was noble.
The Booth couple.
The Gandhi couple.
The Liebknecht couple.
The Sun Yat-sen couple.
The Nogi couple.
The Kimura Shigenari couple.
The Hosokawa Tadaoki couple.

Couples such as the Nogis—who through sacrificial death for noble causes and through mutual testimony of marital love and sincerity—stood as exemplars for Japanese men and women. We wish to proclaim this proudly to the world.

Should any daughter belittle this or remain insensible to it, she would be an alien maiden—her very heart Westernized like her cosmetic practices. No longer would she be a daughter of her homeland. She would not be a flower blossoming from the nation’s soil.

Remain a Japanese maiden through and through. Love with the intensity, depth, and life-risking passion of a Manyō-era maiden. Beneath modern attire, never forget your snow-foam breasts, your jewel-bright vitality, your Yamato maiden’s blood coursing through your veins.

Enter through love as deeply hued as the vermilion camellia.
And until, in old age, you become a holy woman, guard that love, elevate it, and purify it.
(December 20, 1934)