Discover Japan's stories—across time, across language.
| Original Title | わが童心 |
|---|---|
| Author | 佐藤 垢石 |
| Genre | Modern Short Fiction |
| Author Type | Male Author |
| Summary | A long-awaited letter arrives from an old friend who retreated to Kumano’s mountains, painting an idyllic life of tending terraced fields, fishing crystalline streams, and watching his children thrive amid wild herbs and mountain air. His words spark reflections on Japan’s soul—how its lush landscapes and hometown bonds forge a purity of heart. The narrator contrasts this rural harmony with Tokyo’s starkness, where a chess champion clings to canals and willows as his only “nature,” yet feels no less rooted. Memories surface of Joshu’s valleys: childhood strikes over lunchtime freedoms by the Tone River, expulsions that led to bittersweet city life, and the aching beauty of Akagi and Haruna’s peaks—eternal guardians whose slopes cradled generations. Through misted train windows and decades of wandering, these mountains remain emblems of belonging, their seasons etching resilience into farmers and soldiers alike. As cherry blossoms scatter and rivers murmur ancient tales, the narrator wonders: Is it the land’s sacred grace that steels a nation to defend its soil with their lives? The answer lingers in windswept pines, rice paddies, and the unyielding call of home. |