Pathway to Japanese Literature

*

It was the evening of the 24th day of the sixth month in the lunar calendar.

The waters of the Kitakami River slid smoother than black agar, and Lion’s Nose jutted out jet-black beneath the faint starlight.

The pine forest atop Lion’s Nose was, of course, pitch-black, but even so, if one were to enter deep into the woods, the tall treetops of those long-limbed pines could be seen one by one, silhouetted against the celestial river of the Milky Way and constellations.

It seemed that many black things—whether pine cones or birds—were perched on those treetops.

And the leaves of pampas grass at the forest floor were already dripping steadily with the dew of the summer night.

In the very highest reaches of that pine forest, someone was chanting in a deep, rasping voice.

“At that time, Swift-Flying Great Power declared to Nikae: ‘Listen attentively, listen attentively! Contemplate this well. I shall now expound to you the path of liberation from suffering for all evil birds—owls and kites.’”

Nikae then spread both wings, reverently bowed his neck, rose from his seat, flew low in flight, circled Swift-Flying Great Power three times in praise, slowly returned to his seat, knelt down, and earnestly entreated: “Swift-Flying Great Power, Swift-Flying Great Power, pray expound this for us.”
“Swift-Flying Great Power, pray expound this for us.”

Swift-Flying Great Power smiled and covered his head with a golden halo. That light illuminated the entire assembly, filling all birds with joy.
Then he expounded, saying:

"You all truly create all evil karma.
Under cover of night, you come to the dwellings of small birds.
At that time, the small birds, having already bathed in sunlight all day and exhausted themselves with singing and leaping about, were now deep in sweet slumber.
You all leap forth and seize them.
Your talons sink deep into those bodies; the small birds cannot even cry out in pain.
Then you tear them apart and devour them wantonly.
Or you go to the marshlands and peck at snails and clams.
Snails and clams lie in soft mud; their hearts are tender, thinking only of warm water.
At times they are suddenly cast into the air, or their bodies are torn apart in an instant—their cries of anguish silenced.
Yet when you devour them, not a single thought of repentance arises within you."

All such evil karma is beyond counting.
Because of evil karma, you all create further evil karma.
Arising in succession without ever reaching an end.
By day, you fear the sunlight and dread people and all strong birds.
“Your minds know not a moment’s peace; you exhaust one owl existence only to gain a new owl existence, truly suffer all manner of afflictions, yet find no end.”

Abruptly, the voice ceased, and the forest fell utterly silent. There remained only the faintest sounds of stifled weeping here and there—this was indeed the owls’ sutra.

Some time passed, and from far to the west came the rumbling roar of a train racing along. Now the sound echoed toward eastern hills, its thunderous reverberations rolling back.

The forest fell completely silent again. When one peered very carefully through the branches, it was indeed an owl. One large owl perched on the highest branch of the tallest pine tree in the forest, while all around on the branches of surrounding trees—large ones and small ones—many other owls sat motionless and silent. Only occasionally could one hear the faintest of faint sighs and stifled sobs.

The rasping voice began again.

“The passage just now is from what is called the Owl and Kite Protection Chapter—a single excerpt from the revered sutra known to all.”

“From this moment, for a brief period, I shall expound upon that passage.”

“Everyone, fix your minds and listen well!”

“Even born as birds, if all you do is hunger, seize food, grow drowsy, and retreat to nests—this amounts to no purpose at all, I say.”

“Though you may think living carefree as birds seems simple, not a single day passes ordinarily—for us to live one day demands ten or twenty sparrows, thrushes, snails, and earthworms be slain, just as revealed in the scripture we heard.”

“Discern this truth well, and do not fritter away your brief lives in heedlessness!”

“I shall now enter into the scripture.”

“Let even the children endure and not sleep!”

“Very well.”

The forest fell completely silent again.
The train from earlier was still sounding far, far away.

“At that time, Swift-Flying Great Power declared to Nikae: ‘First, we must speak of what manner of being Swift-Flying Great Power is.’”

“Swift-Flying Great Power, whom we reverently call, is the Bodhisattva of Self-Sacrifice.
He is the Great Power Bodhisattva who, from among birds, aroused bodhicitta and made his vow.
Swift-Flying means to fly swiftly.
When the Bodhisattva of Self-Sacrifice assumes his original avian form and takes flight through the sky, it is called ‘One Soar’—with a single flap of his wings, he traverses six thousand yojanas.
From this origin, we revere him as ‘Swift-Flying,’ while ‘Great Power’ refers to his virtue: even if one who invokes this bodhisattva were to enter fire or water, the Bodhisattva of Self-Sacrifice would assuredly plunge in to save them and lead them to his pure celestial realm—at which time, though entering fire, not a hair on their body would be singed, and though diving into water, not a feather would be dampened by so much as a speck of dust. It is this virtue that we call ‘Great Power.’
Thus, ‘Swift-Flying Great Power’ is an alternate title by which we birds reverently call the Bodhisattva of Self-Sacrifice—though to phrase it thus may be discourteous—you may consider it a nickname we birds humbly revere him by.”

The voice fell silent for a time.
The forest fell completely silent.
Only the sound of a trout—or something—leaping with a splash could be heard from the deep pools of the Kitakami River below.

The owl monk’s lecture—he must have been an archbishop or bishop—began again.

“Then how did Swift-Flying Great Power, from the same lowly bird status as ours, attain such an exalted form?”
“That is a noble thing.”
“He saves both himself and all other beings in accordance with his original vow.”
“As for how he attained such an exalted status, I tell you, it was no easy matter.”
“Swift-Flying Great Power was originally a single sparrow, I tell you.”
He had dwelt upon the roof of a certain house in Southern India.
A year came when a terrible famine struck, and neither rice could be harvested nor nuts formed on the trees; even the grasses withered.
Birds and beasts all starved to death, and people collapsed one after another.
Due to the scorching skies and starvation, for both people and birds, this world had become a realm of hungry ghosts where even parents and siblings could no longer be distinguished.
At that time, Swift-Flying Great Power was still but a feeble sparrow; yet gazing upon this scene with deep contemplation, he shed tears at the fleeting impermanence of this world.
Among them, in that house were a parent and child—the child not yet six years old—and even the mother could find no food in that great famine; now they could only wait, day after day, to starve to death before each other’s eyes.
At this time, Swift-Flying Great Power gazed down upon this from above and was for a time utterly at a loss due to the extremity of it all; yet resolving that repaying the daily kindness he had received could only be done now, he spread his weary wings and flew all the way to a distant forest to seek food for the parent and child, it is said.
Whether his single-minded resolve reached heaven, within that great forest he found ten fruits from a nameless tree—fruits of noble hue and fragrance.
Therefore, Swift-Flying Great Power, forgetting himself, ten times carried those fruits to his master’s roof and let them fall upon the parent and child.
On that tenth time, overcome by hunger and the unbearable weight of those fruits, his eyes dimmed and he dropped them five times to the ground; yet driven solely by his resolve to repay kindness, he refrained from pecking at them himself and persevered to safely deliver the tenth fruit to the parent and child. At that moment, exhausted and with his strained heart finally easing, he collapsed right where he stood.
Yet after some time, when he regained consciousness and observed the scene below, though the child indeed seemed to have gained vigor and was rejoicing unreservedly, the parent still did not partake of those fruits themselves and instead appeared on the verge of collapsing from starvation. Seeing this, Swift-Flying Great Power abruptly tensed his body, held his breath, and allowed himself to fall from the beam down to the floor, resolved now to offer his own flesh as sustenance for the parent.
From that pain, though his body seemed on the verge of shattering, his life yet remained.
However, someone with compassion, seeing him alive, could not possibly eat him; thus, he held his breath and kept his eyes shut.
And at last, his wish was fulfilled, and that parent and child were sustained.

Due to that merit, Venerable Swift-Flying Great Power was at last granted Buddhahood, I tell you.
And gradually acquiring spiritual powers, he ultimately became the Great Power Bodhisattva—as I have previously stated—who, even when entering fire, not a single hair would be singed, and even when entering water, not a single feather would be drenched, I tell you.
"This passage now tells how this Great Bodhisattva, taking pity on us mired in evil karma, expounded the path of salvation."
"This is the beginning of that exposition."
"After a brief rest, I shall expound upon this in the next lecture."

Homage to Swift-Flying Great Power, homage to Swift-Flying Great Power.

“Everyone, take a brief rest at ease.”

The black shadow of the tallest tree seemed to shift toward a lower tree beyond with a noisy flapping sound.
It was indeed an owl.

At the same time, the forest was suddenly filled with the rustling of wings, the clacking of beaks, and low growling murmurs.
The Milky Way shifted considerably, the Great Bear twinkled brightly, and then the sky above the eastern mountain range hazily brightened into an antiquated golden hue.

Perhaps the previous train had been exchanged at the station, for this time, the rumbling sound of one heading south could be heard.
Somehow, the sound of the train was very slow and seemed to be that of a freight train.

At that moment, something yellow, pointed, and strangely shaped glimmered above the black eastern mountain range.
The owls stirred restlessly.
It was the golden-horned, sickle-shaped moon of the twenty-fourth night.
It suddenly rose and vanished.
A hazy blue light resembling marsh-bottom glow dimly poured into the forest's high treetops, making even a single large owl fluttering its wings appear silvery.
On the six pines surrounding the sermon tree perched four to eight owls each.
Three owlets sat aligned on three low-hanging branches.
They must have been siblings—all silver and equal in size.
Among them, these two seemed thoroughly bored.
They spread single wings, stood trembling on one leg, hooked claws into branches to flip upside-down mimicking Ogasawara bats.

Then they were saying something.

“Here, want me to show you a spread-eagle?”
“The spread-eagle isn’t anything special.”

“I can do the spread-eagle too.”

“Can you?”
“If you can do it, then show me.”

“There!”
The small owlet performed an upside-down spread-eagle pose, like firefighters do, for just a brief moment.

“What’s that?”
“That’s all you can do?”
“That’s all you can do?”

“But I did it, so it’s fine.”

“It wasn’t a proper spread-eagle.”
“Wasn’t even a proper cross—your legs didn’t spread at all.”

“Hey, settle down.”
“You’ll make everyone laugh.”
On the branch immediately above, Hoeki’s Father spoke, his large eyes gleaming fiercely blue as he looked their way.
The red rings around his eyes stood out clearly.

However, the small owl brothers did not obey at all.

“A cross? Oh? Since when does a cross have two vertical bars?”

“They didn’t spread apart.”

“They did spread.”

“Don’t get smart!”
One owlet flew up from the branch.
The other flew up too.
The two flapped wildly, kicking at each other as they fell through silver-moonlit air, their feathers flashing.

The smaller brown owl—likely Mother Owl, who had been perched beside Father—swooped down below.
A whimpering cry rose from beneath.
But soon Mother Owl returned to her perch, followed by the two scrambling back up to rub their eyes with one foot.
Mother Owl scolded them again.
Her eyes blazed blue.

“Really, you all are impossible.”
“In front of everyone watching, you’re going to start fighting again any moment now.”
“Why can’t you stay still and quiet like Hoeki?”

The owl called Hoeki appeared to be the smallest among the three owlets but also the most mild-mannered. He faced straight ahead, remaining perched on the branch from beginning to end, perfectly still and silent. Perched on the highest branch of that tree, his entire body silver and cheeks puffed out grandly, there was no mistaking it—Grandfather Owl was dozing gently back and forth under the mercury-like moonlight during this break in the sermon.

The moon had already risen quite high, and the constellations had shifted considerably.
Scorpius was sinking in the west, and the Milky Way had tilted completely askew.

From a low pine tree across the way, the elderly monk owl flew diagonally and alighted once again on the sermon branch exactly as before.

Suddenly, the forest's rustling ceased, and everything grew utterly quiet.
Perhaps due to the wind, the sound of distant rapids that had been inaudible until now began to reverberate through the forest.
The monk owl cleared his throat with several hoarse coughs and began anew.

“At that time, Swift-Flying Great Power addressed Nikae and declared: ‘Listen attentively, listen attentively.’
Reflect deeply upon this.
I shall now expound to you the path of liberation from suffering for owls and all wicked fowl.”

Nikae then spread both wings wide, reverently lowered his neck, rose from his seat, and flew aloft at a low height to circle Swift-Flying Great Power three times in praise. Gradually returning to his seat, he prostrated himself and entreated: “Swift-Flying Great Power, Swift-Flying Great Power—pray expound this unto us.”
“Swift-Flying Great Power—pray expound this unto us.”

Swift-Flying Great Power smiled and donned a golden halo; that light illuminated the entire assembly, and all birds were filled with joy.

Then he declared:

You all truly commit all manner of evil karma.
Some go to the homes of small birds under cover of night.
At that time, the small birds had already bathed in sunlight all day, sung, hopped about, and grown weary, and were now deep in sweet slumber.
You all leap forth and seize them.
Sharp claws sink deep into their bodies, and none of the small birds cry out in pain or make a sound.
Then they tear them apart and devour them wantonly.
Or they go to marshy rice fields and peck at snails and clams.
Snails and clams are in soft mud; their hearts are tender, thinking only of warm water.
At times they suddenly find themselves in midair; at others, you immediately tear their bodies apart—their anguished cries cease.
When you devour them, you feel no remorse.

Such evil karmas as these are beyond all counting.
Because of evil karma, they create yet more evil karmas.
They arise in succession and never finally end.
By day they fear the sunlight, and dread humans and all manner of strong birds.
Their hearts find no peace even for a moment; they exhaust one owl body only to gain a new owl body.
Truly, they suffer all manner of afflictions without end.
"In the previous session, we referred to the Self-Sacrifice Bodhisattva as 'Swift-Flying Great Power' and recounted the circumstances of his vow's fulfillment; next comes his address to Nikae."
"As for Nikae—at that time, he was an owl like us."
"He dwelt together with our ancestors."
"Even now, we reverently call him Venerable Nikae, and the thirteenth of each month remains his memorial day."
"In every household, all owls perform the act of taking oak leaves on the thirteenth day to offer to Venerable Nikae—for he once dwelled in an oak tree."
"This Venerable Nikae had long resolved himself to the wretchedness of existence as an owl and sought liberation; through earnest devotion he encountered Swift-Flying Great Power, received noble teachings, and ascended to heaven."
"That was the sermon given to Venerable Nikae."
"'Listen attentively, listen attentively.'"
"'Reflect deeply upon this.'"
"'Calm your minds and listen well—calm your minds and listen well,' thus it is declared."
"In any sermon assembly, calming one's mind and listening attentively proves crucial."
"If you all listen half-heartedly, it will do no good at all."

However, at this moment, the two owlet siblings who had fought earlier had already grown weary of listening to the sermon and begun glaring at each other.
The place was in the shade of densely clustered branches and pitch-dark, but since both owlets had their eyes opened as wide as possible, they gleamed bluish like burning phosphorus.
Finally, both of them burst out together at once,

“Your eyes are so big,” they said.

Fortunately, the owl monk—who was slightly hard of hearing—did not catch their voices, but all the other owls turned to look in their direction.
The owl named Hoeki, their brother, felt terribly awkward there and fidgeted uneasily while keeping his head firmly bowed.
The two became hidden in the shadow of the branches as everyone looked their way,
“Hey, let’s sneak off and go play already.”

“Where to?”
“The grove of Jisso-ji Temple.”

"Let's go."

"Yeah, let's go."
"Hey Hoeki - you coming?"

"No."

“No.”
Hoeki shook his head.

“I shall now expound to you the path of liberation from suffering for owls and all evil birds.”
The sermon resumed.
The two brothers had already slipped quietly away, and Hoeki stiffened further, as if determined to listen for all three siblings by himself.

＊

It was the evening of the next day, the 25th of Lunar June.

Though it was exactly the same hour as the previous evening, the sermon had not yet begun; the owl monk sat silently with eyes closed on a high branch of the sermon tree, while the many owls gathered around him in the same manner as the night before all appeared strangely restless.
Among the female owls were some who wept anxiously, while the male owls twitched irritably as if they could no longer bear to remain still.
Moreover, in that family of three siblings from last night, the grandfather owl perched highest had already cried his eyes raw, his cheeks spasming intermittently as tears fell silently from his reddened, swollen eyes.

Of course, Hoeki’s mother was weeping quietly and incessantly.
The two rough-mannered brothers also, strangely enough, sat properly that night, their large eyes fixed downward.
Moreover, Hoeki’s father kept looking intently toward the west.
But why on earth was that gentle Hoeki nowhere to be seen?
A breeze had begun to blow, so all the pine treetops swayed quietly.

Patches of clouds seemed to float here and there in the sky.
That was because the stars were dark and not shining, as if they had gone blind scattered across the heavens.

Suddenly, a large brown owl came flying from the west.
And perched on a low tree at the congregation’s entrance, it said in a hushed voice:

“It’s no good after all.
Hoeki seems to have given up by now too.
Until just now he was flapping about wildly, but now he sits quietly atop the mortar.
And the cord has changed somehow.
Before it was on his right leg—now it’s tied to his left, and the cord’s red.
Though one small mercy: nearly everyone’s fallen asleep.
That child who kept trying to poke Hoeki’s eyes with his finger earlier? Sleeping spread-eagled in just his bellyband.”

Hoeki’s mother owl cried out as if set ablaze.
Following this, all the female owls in the forest began to sob quietly.

The owl monk gazed fixedly at the starry sky, then quietly inquired.

“This world is indeed just as it is.
Everything is indeed nothing but sorrow now.
Why did such a gentle child end up going to a place where he would be caught by humans?”

The mouse-colored owl sitting next to the sermon tree answered reverently.

“It is said that near dawn this morning, the three brothers went out together.
It was not a place where people usually came.
Then, as the morning sun rose, all three of them closed their eyes for a while due to the brightness, or so it is said.
Then, it is said that just then two children had come to cut grass, and before Hoeki knew it, one of them stealthily climbed up and seized Hoeki’s leg.”

“Ah, how pitiful! What a wretched story! That even such a gentle, good child should meet this karmic retribution.”
“If it were possible, this old one would take his place.”

The forest fell silent once more.

After some time had passed, another owl came flapping noisily back.

“Mr. Hoeki was walking on top of the mortar, you know.”
“It looked like he was trying to tear through that red cord, but it wasn’t easy at all.”
“I tried over and over to find some gap to swoop in and help him, flying around the house again and again, but there was no opening anywhere.”
“It’s truly pitiful, isn’t it—Mr. Hoeki—but he isn’t crying.”

Hoeki’s mother asked, her large eyes tearful and blinking as if dazzled.

“Was there no cat in that house?”

“Yes, it seems there was no cat there.”
“There’s certainly none there.”
“For quite some time I kept peering in, but ultimately never saw one.”

“Then I suppose I can be somewhat relieved. I truly have no excuse for causing such terrible trouble to all of you. It’s all stemming from Hoeki’s carelessness.”

“No, no, that’s not the case at all. Even such a clever child cannot escape misfortune.”

The female owls in the forest answered in unison. The sound reached Hoeki—confined within the large thatched roof about two chō westward—albeit very faintly.

The grandfather owl said to Hoeki’s father, his voice growing hoarse again and again.

“Once it’s come to this, there’s nothing to be done.”
“You should go and quietly tell Hoeki that from now on, he must never thrash about or bite people in anger again.”
“Since they see no one will kill you today, they must intend to keep you fed with pond snails or such. So stay gentle as always and never defy them.”
“You should go and instruct him thus.”

Hoeki’s father bowed his head and listened in silence.
The owl monk too, from afar, had been listening as attentively as possible to this, and having apparently grasped the general reason, added:

“That’s right, that’s right.”
“That’s sound judgment.”
“While you’re at it, go and instruct him thus.”
“Having suffered such a terrible ordeal, he must not bear resentment by thinking, ‘This is retribution for some evil deed I committed.’”
“Let him fully accept this fate, knowing this calamity too exists because sins in this world are beyond counting and transgressions from past lives know no bounds. He must not lament alone overmuch—should he weep excessively, his heart will grow heavy and his body will surely weaken. Though cords bind his legs, now that he has come to this place, it becomes his final station; he must abide here with tranquil ease.” Please convey these words.
“Ah, but... but... matters differ entirely for the one taken.”
“Even those untouched by harm—whatever they might say—it avails nothing.”
“Alas, how pitiful! Alas, how wretched!”

Hoeki's father owl bowed his head repeatedly.

“Thank you very much.”
“Thank you very much.”
“I will most certainly convey that.”
“If he hears these noble words, he will surely say he can now die content.”

“No, no, that is not so.
“Please convey these words thus.”
“Even if he is fated to be kept, a child’s heart is inherently unreliable, and with cats or dogs likely nearby, should any peril arise, he must simply chant the holy name of Swift-Flying Great Power.”
“Please convey that.”
“Alas, how pitiful!”

“Thank you very much.”
“Then I will take my leave now.”

Hoeki’s mother said through sobs.

“Ah, please—if you would—tell him to cry out loudly twice daily, morning and evening, so that I may hear him for as long as he lives.”

“Alright.”
“Well then, everyone, I shall take my leave.”

Hoeki’s father tested his wings with two or three flaps, then soundlessly glided away into the distance.

The owl monk had been watching it intently, but suddenly stiffened his body and said:

“Good people. No matter how long you weep, it will never end. This world is called the realm of suffering; it is also named Endurance Earth. For all, there is nothing but anguish—no moment for tears to dry. Henceforth, it is crucial that we and all living beings swiftly come to know the path to liberation from this suffering. Given these karmic circumstances, all of you must listen with utmost humility. For even if but one among you awakens the mind of enlightenment through Hoeki’s circumstances, then Hoeki’s merit and the merit of all gathered here shall know no bounds; therefore, you must listen most attentively. I shall now resume last night’s discourse.”

At that time, Swift-Flying Great Power declared to Nikae: "Hearken closely, hearken closely. Ponder this well. I shall now expound unto you owls and all wicked birds the path to liberation from suffering."

Nikae spread both wings wide, reverently bowed his neck, rose from his seat, and flew low in three circuits around Swift-Flying Great Power in praise before gradually returning to his place. Prostrating himself, he entreated: "Swift-Flying Great Power, Swift-Flying Great Power, pray expound this for our sake." Pray expound this for our sake.

Swift-Flying Great Power smiled and covered his head with a golden halo, whereupon that light illuminated the entire assembly, and all the birds were filled with joy.
Thereupon he preached, saying:

You all truly commit various evil karma.
At times, under cover of night, you all come to the dwellings of small birds.
At that time, the small birds, having already bathed in sunlight all day, sung, leapt about, and become fatigued, lie solely in sweet slumber—and you all leap forth to seize them.
Talons sink deep into those bodies; none of the small birds utter even a cry of agony.
Thereupon you all tear them apart and devour them wantonly.
Or you all go to swampy fields and peck at snails and clams.
Snails and clams lie in soft mud, their hearts tender as they yearn only for warm waters.
At times, [they] suddenly find themselves in midair, or [their] bodies are immediately torn apart, their cries of agony silenced.
When you all devour this, you feel no remorse.

Such evil karmas as these are beyond counting.

Because of evil karma, they create yet more evil karmas.
Arising in succession, these never ultimately cease.
By day they dread the sunlight and fear both humans and birds of prey.
Their hearts know not a moment’s peace.
Having exhausted one owl existence, they obtain a new owl existence; truly suffering manifold calamities, these too never cease.

“Last night I delivered the sermon up to ‘all the birds were filled with joy’ exactly as written in the text, but this session continues from there.”
“Thereupon he preached, saying—this means Venerable Swift-Flying Great Power, at Saint Nikae’s earnest request, immediately delivered a sermon.”
“You all truly commit various evil karma.”
“When it says ‘You all,’ this originally addresses us owls and kites among others, but its true intent concerns owls—for when we reverently consider the sinful aspects described in the subsequent sacred text, they all pertain to us.”
“Now ‘evil karma’ means—‘evil’ signifies ‘bad,’ and ‘karma’ is the Sanskrit term meaning ‘action,’ referring to all deeds done in the past that have yet to manifest as retribution. There exists both good karma and evil karma.”
“Here it is called evil karma.”
“He then proceeded to enumerate those matters next.”
“At times, under cover of night, they come to the dwellings of small birds.”
“Good people, this is not another’s affair—I tell you.”
“Search your own hearts most thoroughly.”
“Night’s darkness means the dark of night.”
“‘By means of’ signifies taking advantage of this—that is its meaning.”
“‘By taking advantage of the night’s darkness’—it is thus.”
“They arrive at the dwellings of small birds.”
“‘Small birds’ refers to sparrows, tits, great tits, siskins, shrikes, wrens, jays, thrushes—all those small in form and lacking strength are small birds.”
“Now when it says ‘they come to the dwellings of small birds,’ this ‘coming’ is neither paying a visit nor arriving for amusement. It means they come stealthily—concealing deeply cruel intentions within while outwardly displaying a fearsome and pitiable demon-like visage—and this is how it is described.”
“In those days of this sermon’s delivery, our hearts still retained some measure of goodness, but when the teaching about coming to small birds’ dwellings was expounded, all listeners could no longer bear to remain seated, trembling in their places.”
“Now it is by no means so.”
“If it were now, Venerable Swift-Flying Great Power would be delivering a far stronger and fiercer sermon!”
“Good people, please listen most earnestly and take this to heart.”

The next sacred passage states: "At that time, the small birds, having already bathed in sunlight all day long through singing and leaping about until exhausted lie solely within sweet slumber."
"This concerns none but yourselves—mark my words."
"How now—this very morning too, rather than Venerable Hoeki’s plight, it has fallen upon me—"

The Owl Monk's voice suddenly trembled unsteadily and changed.
Hoeki’s mother owl began to weep as if ripping silk, and the female owls in the assembly immediately followed suit and cried.

Then the male owls also cried.
The forest was filled with nothing but stifled sobs; the wind arose, and all the trees swayed violently, yet still, no one ceased their weeping.

The stars gradually wheeled across the sky, and the red Mars had already entered the western firmament.

The Owl Monk coughed hoarsely several times but finally regained his composure and resumed the lecture.

“Good people, first please try considering yourselves as wrens.”
“You see?”
“When Lord Sun shoots golden arrows into the eastern sky, the forest trees turn blue and their branches sway. They sing joyfully—with their dear friends, from branch to branch, tree to tree, they go singing through Lord Sun’s light. At midday, they rest silent in cool leaf-shade, then chirp softly and take flight—aiming for the blue slate of sky, visiting streamlets—never parting from like-hearted friends even briefly, singing as they go. Then when Lord Sun withdraws, their bodies grow weary and languid—like oil, like melting wax.”
“Their eyelids will close; they will dream of daytime vistas—though their bodies remain on branches, their hearts still soar within the luminous dream of sweet, joyful weariness.”
At that moment, a sudden chill runs through them.
“Is this a dream or reality? When I look in shock, my body is torn apart and blood flows.”
Two blazing eyes glow and stare at me.
“How about this? Even when trying to cry out, their throats convulse and no sound emerges.”
“This signifies that talons sink deep into those bodies—none of the small birds utter even a cry of agony.”
“However, this is seen from the captured birds’ perspective.”
“When viewed from our perspective as hunters—we leap forth and seize them.”
We leap upon those who sleep guiltless in a single strike—rend their tender bodies with sharp talons; the birds cannot even utter a cry—we mock them even as we tear them apart.
“What a pitiful thing this is!”
“Even I—now a monk who no longer attacks birds or fish—find that when I reflect on the past, there remains neither self nor world.”
“Ah—this body steeped in sin—night after night—even in dreams—we commit yaksha deeds.”
“The terror of karmic destiny—it can only leave one utterly aghast.”

The wind came with a whoosh.
The trees all swayed like waves, and the Owl Monk moved like a boat adrift among them.

And from the edge of the eastern mountains, yesterday’s golden sickle—the moon of the twenty-fifth day—had risen even thinner than the day before.
The forest became filled with a thin, mist-like haze, and from the west, Hoeki’s father came flying back dejectedly.

*

It was the evening of the twenty-sixth day of the sixth lunar month.

The sky had cleared so perfectly that the Milky Way’s waters now lay transparently cold, its sandy bed seemingly countable grain by grain; and when one closed their eyes tight, they might almost hear the murmur of its current.
But perhaps it was the sound of the wind blowing high in the sky.
For the stars seemed to waver, brighten, and dim as if beyond a heat shimmer.

In the pine forest above Lion’s Nose tonight as well, a group of owls had gathered.
Tonight, Hoeki was present.
He had come, but not to where he had been two nights prior; higher up than where Grandfather Owl stayed, where two small branches crossed and four or five even smaller ones extended out to form a shape somewhat like a cup, a temporary nest had been made by laying straw scraps and strands of hair brought from somewhere.
Inside it, Hoeki lay half-reclined, his eyes tightly shut.
Hoeki’s mother and two brothers sat around him, supporting his body.

None of the owls in the forest were crying tonight, but their anger far surpassed that of the previous night.

“How is your pain?”
“Has it lessened somewhat, I wonder?”

The Owl Monk gently inquired from his usual high perch.
Hoeki seemed about to say something, but only blinked his eyes rapidly; his mother answered instead.

“He is endeavoring to endure it as best he can.”
“He cannot speak properly.”
“Even so, he seemed determined to attend tonight’s sermon no matter what, so...”
“Please, without further concern, I humbly beg you to continue the lecture.”

The Owl Monk looked up at the sky.

“That is a most commendable resolve.”
“That is precisely why, even though his legs were broken, he never returned to his parents’ side again.”
“Yet to twist and break two perfectly healthy legs for no reason at all and then release him—what an outrageous heart dwells within humans!”

“Even if he had been released, with both legs broken, how could he possibly fly right away? He had fallen into that reed field and was wailing pitifully. Even so, during the day no one noticed, and it was only at dusk when I went out to see him that I found him in this wretched state.”

“Hmm. That is just. Yet you must not resent others. It is all rooted within yourselves. Resentful hearts become the Asura Realm. Even so, you must not resent others.”

Hoeki was listening to this dimly, as if in a dream.
The child, having grown bored, said, “I’ll let you go,” and took him outside.
At that moment, he snapped his legs with a crack.
His legs still throb deeply even now.
Even when he opens his eyes, everything around him sways unsteadily; the very sky seems to rise and fall in quivering restlessness, and all voices reach him as if heard faintly through water.
Ah, I’m surely going to die now.
If it’s going to be this agonizing, I’d truly be better off dead.
Even so, Father and Mother will cry.
Even if they cry, are Father and Mother still nearby? Ah, it hurts, it hurts.
Hoeki wept soundlessly.

“They’re downright cruel.”
“We haven’t done a single thing wrong to them.”
“And they pull this on us.”
“We can’t just sit quiet anymore.”
“Let’s pay them back somehow.”
One of the young owls proclaimed loudly.
The owl beside him responded.

“Let’s set a fire.”
“On the next trash-burning night, let’s bring one long burning straw to that roof.”
“It’s not like we’d have to carry ten or twenty of them—one’s bound to catch fire while we’re at it.”
“But burning in a fire is too easy.”
“Isn’t there something even a bit more cruel we could do?”

The one beside him answered again.

“Let’s wait for when the door’s open and stab the infant’s head.”
“You beasts!”

The Owl Monk had been listening intently to what everyone was saying, but now he spoke quietly.

“No, no, dear congregation—that will not do.”
“Though this cruelty naturally makes vengeance inevitable, such would be washing blood with blood.”
“When hearts here find clarity, those yonder shall burn with fresh rancor.”
“In time you shall suffer fiercer retribution; even beyond this life into the next, that obsession shall endure unbroken.”
“Thus would you enter the Asura Realm together, finding not one moment’s respite from strife.”
“You must never become collaborators in such machinations!”

The mother owl shrieked shrilly.

“Hoeki, Hoeki, stay strong.”

Everyone flinched.
Hoeki’s father also hurriedly flew to the branch where Hoeki had been, but finding no place to perch, immediately alighted on the branch above.
Hoeki’s grandfather also went.
Everyone gathered around.
For some reason, Hoeki’s broken legs trembled uncontrollably, his eyes shut tight with their whites showing.
Hoeki’s father shouted loudly.

“Hoeki, stay strong.”
“The sermon is about to begin now.”

Hoeki snapped his eyes open.
Then he sat up slightly.
He seemed to be straining to look ahead with unseeing eyes.

“Oh, thank goodness.”
“He must be exhausted after all.”
The female owls said to each other.

At that point, the Owl Monk spoke.

“Well then, let us commence the discourse.”
“Dear congregation, return to your seats.”
“Tonight being the twenty-sixth day—as you all know—next month’s twenty-sixth shall be our Twenty-Sixth Night vigil.”
“When the Moon Sovereign prepares to emerge from the mountain’s rim and deigns to cast forth radiance, the Three Sacred Ones—Swift-Flying Great Power and Nikae Paraji—shall manifest in the eastern firmament.”
“Though tonight’s moon differs in phase, this does not mean they fail to reveal themselves within hearts of sincerity.”
“Venerable Hoeki too seems possessed of singular devotion to attentive hearing; I shall now forthwith begin my exposition.”
“Venerable Hoeki—how excruciating this must be. Though sutra verses may barely reach your ears, within this crucible of anguish lies ever-deeper engraving of Swift-Flying Great Power’s compassionate mercy. Heed this well—verily herein lies bodhi’s seed.”

The Owl Monk’s voice changed slightly again.
The assembly fell silent.

There were already autumn insects beginning to chirp in the forest.
The monk held his breath for a moment, composed himself, then made a solemn vow in a grave voice before resuming last night’s sermon.

“Owls’ Salvation Chapter, Owls’ Salvation Chapter”

O benevolent ones, press your palms together and listen with utmost sincerity.
I now, having received the divine power of Swift-Flying Great Power, shall expound a passage from the Owls’ Salvation Chapter.
I humbly pray that the Tathagata’s great compassion and mercy may manifest divine power within my small prayer—transforming the mire of false words and ornate speech into radiant lapis lazuli of luminous hues, and from amidst worldly vanity cause pure blue lotuses to bloom.
With utmost sincerity and fervent aspiration—Namu Buddha, Namu Buddha, Namu Buddha.

At that time, Swift-Flying Great Power declared unto Nikae: "Listen attentively, listen attentively. Contemplate this well. I shall now expound to you the path for owls and all evil birds to be liberated from suffering."

Nikae then spread both wings wide, reverently bowed his neck, rose from his seat, flew low to circle Swift-Flying Great Power three times in praise, slowly returned to his seat, prostrated himself, and entreated: "Swift-Flying Great Power, Swift-Flying Great Power, pray expound this for us. Pray expound this for us."

Swift-Flying Great Power smiled and covered his head with a golden halo, whereupon the birds were filled with joy. Then he began to expound:

You all truly commit various evil deeds.
Some go to the homes of small birds under cover of night.
At that time, the small birds, having bathed in sunlight all day through singing, chirping, and leaping until exhausted, lie in sweet slumber—and you all pounce to seize them.
Your sharp claws sink deep into their bodies; the small birds neither cry out in agony nor utter a sound—then you rend them apart and devour them wantonly.
Some go to marshlands and peck at snails and clams.
Snails and clams lie in soft mud; their hearts tender, recalling only warm water.
At times, their bodies are suddenly in midair; some are immediately torn apart, their anguished cries cut short.
You all devour them, yet you have no thought of repentance.

“Because of evil karma, they create further evil karma.
They arise ceaselessly, never coming to an end.
By day, they fear the sunlight; moreover, they dread humans and all powerful birds.
Their hearts find no peace, not even for a moment.
Once they exhaust their owl existence, they obtain a new owl existence again.
They truly suffer various calamities, yet these never cease.

Now, last night I expounded up to how such various evil karma are beyond counting, but tonight we continue from there.

‘Because of evil karma, they create further evil karma’—these are truly brief yet potent holy words.
‘Earlier, when there was talk of retaliating against humans—as I stated—one evil karma begets one evil result.’
Because of that evil result, they create new evil karma.
‘Thus endlessly perpetuating itself without cease.’
‘It is like a wheel that turns and turns yet never ceases.’
‘This is called samsara and termed transmigration.’
‘It is the revolving from evil to evil.’
‘They arise ceaselessly, never coming to an end—that is what is meant by this.’
‘No matter how much time passes, it never comes to an end—endlessly, evil causes beget evil effects, and from those effects, new evil causes arise.’
‘Thus it is—there can be no hope of salvation.’
‘By day, they fear the sunlight; moreover, they dread humans and all powerful birds.’
‘Their hearts find no peace, not even for a moment.’
‘This was directly conveyed to make us understand the harsh reality within transmigration.’”

“Alas, we revere and shun the radiant Sun Deity.”
“We walk ever with darkness.”
“When the eastern sky pales and the honorable Sun Deity looses his golden arrows aloft, we flee in terror.”
“Were they to open their eyes properly in daylight, they would be smitten by the Sun Deity’s golden shafts of conquest.”
“Such is our wretched state as beings of evil karma.”
“Moreover, we fear humans and all mighty birds—I tell you this.”
“This dread of humans stretches beyond tonight’s discourse.”
“Reflect well upon this.”
“We fear all mighty birds.”
“Hawks and falcons—nay, even crows in daylight must we fear, so pitiful is our lot.”
“Should a falcon descend swift from heaven to seize us as we seize small birds—torn asunder midflight in an instant—what use our feeble struggles? Truly, truly shameful is our miserable existence.”

The Owl Monk paused briefly.
Tonight too, the sound of the first-hour upbound train could be heard.
When they heard that sound, even as they wept, the owls would think of the train’s bright red windows lined up in rows.

The sermon began again.

“Their hearts find no peace, not even for a moment—what say you, everyone? Have you ever known even a single moment of settling down without worry, free and easy?”
“They are ever and always trembling in fear, I tell you.”
“Once they exhaust their owl existence, they obtain a new one again—thus it is.”
“Weeping, regretting, grieving—growing old in the end, falling ill, enduring every hardship imaginable—yet even when death comes, should they think to cast off this existence as accursed birds, they will find it far beyond reach!”
“From the sin ingrained in their very flesh, they are reborn as owls once more.”
“Thus through a hundred lives, two hundred lives—nay, across kalpas without end—they cannot escape this owl existence.”
“Truly do they suffer calamities unceasing.”
“All has become naught but bitter suffering.”

Now, the eastern sky turned golden.
"The Moon Deity has already graciously ascended," declared the owl monk.
"If it were next month's 26th Night, we would venerate Swift-Flying Great Power in this radiance—yet even tonight demands reverence. All of you, lift sincere hearts in devotion!"

The golden sickle-shaped moon of the 26th Night graciously ascended.
The area grew dimly bright, and below, insects suddenly began to hum in a hushed chorus.
The sound of distant rapids also came through clearly.
The Moon Deity had now smoothly ascended into the bellflower-blue sky.
It appeared like a mysterious golden ship.

Suddenly, everyone felt their breath catch.
It was because from the sharp right prow of that Moon Deity’s ship, something like beautiful purple smoke—resembling fireworks in its splendor—erupted with a crackling burst.
The smoke billowed out in an instant and, beneath the Moon Deity, formed an eye-opening purple cloud that completely covered the mountaintop.
On that cloud stood three magnificent golden figures straight and tall.
The central figure was lofty in stature, staring fixedly toward us with large eyes.
The folds of their robes—each and every one—were clearly discernible.
They wore magnificent jeweled necklaces that seemed inlaid with stars.
The Moon Deity had now formed a perfect halo around the figure’s head.

On the right and left stood slightly shorter magnificent figures, their hands pressed together in prayer.
The halo was hazed in a golden mist, and the blue star behind it was also visible.
The cloud seemed to gradually draw nearer.

“Homage to Swift-Flying Great Power, Homage to Swift-Flying Great Power.”

Everyone shouted loudly.
That sound reverberated through the forest.
As the cloud drew ever nearer and Swift-Flying Great Power’s form appeared some thirty meters tall—its radiant left hand stretching out as if beckoning toward them—an indescribably sweet fragrance suddenly suffused the entire area, and both the purple cloud and Swift-Flying Great Power’s figure vanished from sight.
Only the golden sickle-shaped moon of the twenty-sixth night hung quietly in that crystal-clear, bellflower-blue sky.

“Oh! Hoeki! He’s stopped breathing!”
Suddenly, Hoeki's brothers shouted loudly.

Hoeki had truly already grown cold, his mouth slightly open, remaining faintly smiling, and his breath had ceased.
And then the sound of the train could be heard again.