Pathway to Japanese Literature

Prologue

In the sky above，a lark was singing its song．
The swirling sun’s
light waves enveloped，
singing—

*Shigure Song*

*O Rainy Moon*
*Haloed one, shelter me*
*Grant me an umbrella*
*Dead mother, stepmother*

In the falling late autumn drizzle,
*Grant me geta*
Polishing rice barefoot

*Dead mother, stepmother*

*Splashing water with the ladle*
*Grant me water*

*The well bucket was too heavy to lift*

*Dead mother, stepmother*

I'll be filial

Grant me tabi socks

Feet froze stiff, couldn't walk

Dead mother, stepmother

I want to go into service

Grant me miso

I can’t swallow the rice.

*Dead mother, stepmother*

Street Corner

Bank Clerk F was
Wearing a new suit—he strode out.

A black soft hat, gleaming shoes.

On a warm day,

Around nine in the morning.

At the street corner—a sudden encounter.

He encountered Miss Ako.

(Oh!
Oh!)

Slender—

Peach-parted lips, white teeth.

F-san’s face.

Miss Ako’s eyes.

(Oh!
Oh!)

The two passed each other by.

The pounding of hearts.

The Persimmon Tree Episode

When persimmons reddened in backfield groves,
Daily came crows feasting on their yield.
Though set they child guard o'er orchard rows,
Still came those black-winged thieves afield.
Father bound fowl plumes on bamboo shaft,
Hung dangling scare-trophies high aloft,
Placed sentinel post by fruit-laden boughs.

He erected it there.

The chicken feathers

fluttered softly.

The crows watched from afar.

They did not come.

Even when other crows came occasionally,

when the chicken feathers moved, they immediately flew away.

The father and the child

were relieved and happy.

The wind blew all night.

From the dark of morning, crows were cawing in the persimmon tree.

The laundry pole was lying fallen in the field.

The child came running and reported to the father.

Datura Flowers

Where had the seeds flown in from?

In the field

Datura flowers were growing.

The farmer was thinking of pulling them out and discarding them when—

Summer came.

The Datura flowers,

from between leaves,

were attempting to bloom white blossoms.

The farmer

"He wasn't going to let any flowers bloom," he muttered to himself. Autumn had finally arrived.

The datura flowers
They had completely formed seed pods.
The farmer was enraged—when he laid hands on them,
Every last seed pod into the field—
scattered everywhere as they burst open.

The two
Despite the year-end fast approaching,
the two renting a room
what should they do from here on out?
They were at a loss.

The two
With a small brazier between them
Were saying desperately—to one another—"Let's manage to live," but
Still remained weeping.
The two
Last night too had dreamed alike—
Of silver coins and rice and meat and charcoal—
While the north wind clattered across the roof as it blew.

Duck

In the paddy field behind, a duckling
While picking up snails and eating them,
The Wild Goose came.
“I’ll take you with me, so...”
“Spread your wings as hard as you can and try flying,”
The Wild Goose said.
The duckling tried its hardest to fly, but
Its body was too heavy, and it came flopping down.
The Wild Goose flew away laughing.
The duckling returned weeping to the front of the shed.

The parent duck
The parent duck was drinking water with its head in the bucket.
The duckling
"Give me new proper wings!"
The duckling was crying at the top of its voice.
The parent duck helplessly
turned away.

The parent duck pretended not to hear.

The Abyss

Heave-ho!

“Yoitomaita”—at Fukagawa’s roadside,

Wearing an insignia-emblazoned work coat,

A woman’s voice was singing.

The taxi kicked up sand and dust,

With momentum that could crush bones—people stampeded.

Under the street trees
They were dodging right and left.

They were sinking into the abyss of downtown.
Listless, weary faces
While breathing in the nauseating stench of gasoline
The woman's voice was singing.
The voice of the LABORER living in grayness—the voice was gradually growing tired—the voice of the woman in the insignia-emblazoned work coat was tired.

The winter sun

A space of about one ken remains.

Ginger field
On the withered mountain, pampas grass plumes emerged and fluttered
Neither bound by sash nor cord

Red chili peppers in the field.
When someone threw a stone, it split into two.
The stone was at the gravel bank.
It glittered.
An’s wife and her children.

Shuffling and shuffling along,
It already glistened.
The dark evening in the ginger field—
They came out to the back door.
It glimmered.

In Front of the Bar

From the special tribe—the young girl Okino.

Okino of truly beautiful unworldliness and pale blue.

Okino had been standing vacantly in front of the bar since earlier.

“Okino! It was already evening—you ought to go home.”

An elderly man poked his head out from the bar’s noren and said.

“I... I’ll go home. But Uncle—”

“Mr. Gon didn’t come today?”

The elderly man was a veteran worker at the same factory as Gon.

Blown by the twilight wind, the group of factory workers was returning home.

"Gon... He isn't coming. He isn't coming."

"Ah there y'are, Okino—Gon's gone back t'Osaka."

"I don't know! I don't know! That ain't true!"

"Uncle—you're lyin', ain'tcha?"

Okino approached the noren curtain.

"What would I gain by lying to you?"

"Okino, Gon was laid off from the factory."

Okino sidled closer and gazed intently at the elderly man’s face.

“Uncle, is that really true?”

The elderly man was silently watching Okino’s face.

From inside the bar came the booming, booming sound of voices.

A man was sitting on an empty barrel, drinking cold sake.
A man in pale indigo clothes with wild bloodshot eyes,
he emerged from inside the bar in a tipsy good mood.

“Oh, Okino? Hmm… what a beautiful pale blue.”

“Hey there, Brother (to the elderly man), I’m headin’ back a bit earlier.”

He staggered off.

Oh! Gon’s here!

The elderly man jerked his chin at Okino while looking in the opposite direction.

Gon suddenly appeared in front of the bar.

Okino ran up and grasped Gon's hand.

“Mr. Gon.”

“What’s wrong with you? Did they lay you off from the factory?”

Okino gazed sadly at Gon's face.

Gon was also gazing at Okino's face.

Tears spilled from Okino's eyes.

"Mr. Gon, what will you do if you quit the factory?"

"Lies! Lies!"

"You're going back to Osaka, aren't you?"

Okino's voice turned tremulous.

The evening sky burned crimson across its entire expanse.

Gon said nothing and stood there looking down.

"Mr. Gon, if you're going back to Osaka..."

"Please take me with you."

Once again, Okino's voice trembled.

When evening came, Okino would wear a red flower hairpin and stand in front of the bar, but

Gon never came to the bar again after that.

Loyal Dog

Hibiya Park’s

In the open square of Hibiya Park,

Wearing red laced-up boots,

Led by her grandmother,

Miss Haruko was playing.

The pale delicate spring day

The sky was clear as a mirror.

Five or six middle school students
stretched the tennis net
divided into groups and played.
The ball bounced lightly with crisp pops.
It flew back and forth between the opposite side and this side.
Grandmother stepped back to a spot some distance away.

Grandmother was bending down to show.

the tennis court's

From the opposite side,

A thick-legged, long-haired dog that seemed strong came walking briskly. Miss Haruko recalled the moving picture *Loyal Dog* and watched wide-eyed. *I wonder if that dog will become a loyal dog too. Its ears were similarly drooping, and its mouth was large too—*

Miss Haruko kept her eyes fixed on it without looking away.
She continued to gaze without taking her eyes off it.
The middle school student’s racket suddenly lunged forward—
The racket fell behind the dog.
The dog ran to the racket and—

It stood there with the racket in its mouth.

Miss Haruko

in a small voice to Grandmother,

Miss Haruko told the story of "Loyal Dog."

A Small Incident

Let the short-legged komainu have Pochi chew on it.

The balloon with a slack string and the deflated rubber ball—let’s have Tama chew on them.

As for the bicycle whose spring mechanism won’t turn—let’s place it on the cast-iron leaf platform and have a carriage run over it.

Shall we have a cow trample the horned owl with twisted wings, or have a horse trample it? Or perhaps throw it into the marsh behind us?

Let’s toss it out the window along with the airplane that can no longer fly.

Tomorrow, we’ll bid farewell to the doll in the glass too.

As if to reach some islands—

as if to become a doll of the islands—

Attach a sail to the small paulownia box—let’s set it adrift on Ōkawa’s waters.

Bats

Bats, O bats
By the wellside, a column of mosquitoes has formed.
Won’t you come and feast?
Where is the home of the bats?
Is it the mountains or the village?
Why won’t you answer?
If a column of mosquitoes forms
I’ll go meet them!
Come quickly and eat!
Calling, calling—
The bats are not here.
They’re sulking and hiding away.
To the sulking bats
Don’t let them feed on the swarm of mosquitoes.
Quickly douse them with bucketfuls of water!
The father firefly takes flight.
Even if a swarm of mosquitoes forms
Do not speak to the bats.
No matter how much you call, they won’t come.
If the bats come,

Go barefoot and hunt them down.

Engawa

To his wife who was sewing,
he extended a hand with overgrown nails.
He asked to borrow the scissors.
The scissors lay near her knees.

The young wife
Gazed at his hand as though studying it
Smiling
She took up the scissors and passed them over

He sat cross-legged on the sunlit engawa.
He began cutting with a snip snip.
The nails flew far.

They all fell onto the garden.
The wife quietly came up behind him.
She peered at his face.

He held out his hand to show his neatly trimmed nails.

The young wife stood silently, smiling.

My neighbor

Hikobei

Hikobei, in the field in front of his house,

As he was sowing daikon seeds,

The mail carrier arrived.

Hikobei, with dirty hands,
received the postcard and was gazing at it.
The mail carrier had left.

His son had passed the exam to become a train conductor.
It was a postcard from his son in Tokyo.
Hikobei’s face broke into a smile.

In the irori,

The barley pot

The barley pot was bubbling and boiling over.

Oshimo

Oshimo was digging potatoes in the field when

A man leading a horse
passed by teasingly.

Oshimo was resting with her legs stretched out on the embankment when
the previous man returned leading the horse.
Once again, he passed by teasingly.
As Oshimo was about to head back,
in the thicket,
the man was sticking out his head.

Tome-san
In Tokyo, it’s all the rage—something called Sainorojii.
New words not found in the countryside...
Whether it might also be the name of a Western cigarette—
Tome-san was thinking.

After Tome went out to work in the fields,

The red-cheeked wife was taking a long nap.

The young Bōrin-drilling supervisor

Saying 'Sainorojii,' he walked off laughing.

Tome was utterly perplexed, unable to make sense of it at all.
That evening, while eating dinner, he told his wife about it.
The wife chewed on a piece of candy while—
This too she couldn’t comprehend—she tilted her head.

Otsuyu

As Otsuyu was entering the bath,

A young man
came to trick her

He was deceiving her in a hushed voice.

When Otsuyu splashed a wave of bathwater on him,

the man had been wandering around restlessly, but

From the back,
he slipped smoothly away.
The horse was in the stable.
The horse trough bar
was clanging away.

The Milky Way was flowing from north to west.

Rokuzo

Rokuzo was standing in front of the house.

He gazed at the rice plants in the fields while
As he thought about the flock of sparrows—
A flock of sparrows came flying.

They descended onto the rice plants as if blanketing them.
Rokuzo ran over and pulled the scarecrow clapper's rope.
The flock of sparrows abruptly took flight and vanished.
Days like this continued for many days.
When the rice plants disappeared from the fields, the flock of sparrows stopped coming.
Rokuzo, without thinking about anything,
was lying back smoking.

Yonematsu

Yonematsu shouldered a hoe from the fields.

He returned for lunch.

The back door had been left wide open.

The chickens had climbed onto the hearth.

From inside the pot,

they were pecking and scattering the barley rice as they ate.

At the neighboring Kane’s house, a peddler had come.

The sound of his wife’s laughter could be heard.

Yonematsu was smoking a cigarette resentfully with muddy hands.

His wife was eating a watermelon while—

she had come back with the kinchaku pouch’s string dangling from the fold of her obi.

The chickens had run up to the front of the stable and were standing there.

Daughter and Mr. Liu

Ⅰ

Daughter

Mr. Liu

“If a baby is born, what should we do?”

“Where should we ask someone to raise it?”

Mr.Liu

“I don’t know. You may do as you wish.”

Daughter

“Let’s send them to Auntie in Yokohama.”

“Let’s dress them in a new outfit too.”

Ⅱ

Daughter

"What should we do if Aunt refuses?"

Liu

"I... country matters... don’t understand."

Daughter

“Though it’s sad, let’s abandon them.”

A night so dark you couldn’t see faces.

“Let’s have them suckle a milk tube—then abandon them on a park bench.”

Ⅲ

Daughter

"What should we do if it's a moonlit night?"

"What should we do if the moon kept shining night after night?"

Should we raise it? Or should we abandon it?

Liu

I... Japan... leave... You... I beg.

Daughter

Heartless, heartless Mr.Liu.

I’ll steel myself—though it’s sad, let’s abandon it.

If cold blue moonlight fell upon the bench, it would cry.
It would surely gaze at my face and cry.
Mr.Liu

Mr.Liu

What must have been the state of my heart at that time?

On the Rocky Shore

O parent-yearning fledgling sparrow,
Longing for your parent,
Have you come to the sea?

The parent sparrow that entered the sea and transformed into a clam—
As for you,
It has already forgotten you.

No matter how long you waited,
You could not meet your original parents.
Go home, go home—
Should night fall at the sea’s edge,
O young sparrow,
You would truly become a stray.

To the parent’s old nest—
What became of your younger sister? Is your older sister not there?

The sun was already setting from the mountains.

O petrel

The young sparrow perched on the rocky shore and did not move.
Won’t they trick you into returning to the mountains?

Farmer’s Feet

Because the farmer’s feet are terrifying,

"If you see them, run away,"
the parent frog admonished them to listen.

Every day, the young frogs
crawled up onto the embankment and kept watch,
but the farmer’s feet did not come.

One evening
As the young frogs were playing at the edge of the marsh,
The farmer came shouldering a hoe.
The farmer’s big feet
From behind the young frogs,
Thudded heavily, making the ground reverberate as they approached.
The young frogs could bear it no longer,
They jumped into the marsh and hid, trembling.
The farmer steadily went on his way.
As the young frogs clung to the stems of pondweed and cried,

The parent frog hopped out from the rice field and
took them back together.
The terrifying farmer’s feet entered the rice field every day.
The farmer had finally even reached the young frogs’ hiding place—
he had plowed it all away without a trace.
Even so, for the young frogs—the rice field where they were born—
if they thought it was their own home,

They had been told by the parent frog that everything belonged to the terrifying-footed farmer.

Hand

The young woman stood at the front of the fruit store and was buying a pineapple.
The young man entered inside the store and was buying a pineapple.
The man passed it to her.

When she received the pineapple,

The woman's hand trembled.

The man’s hand.

The woman’s hand.
The woman’s hand trembles.

In the fields

(A Farmer’s Song: VARIATION)

It must be broad daylight.

In the fields, a single field mouse

Was dug up by the spotted dog,

Oh dear,

The field mouse huddled there trembling.

“Has this field’s soil been black since creation?”

“What nonsense!”

“Truth be told—ask them crows.”

In these fields under heaven’s blue,

Ain’t no mystery at all.

The crows cried hoarse—caw-caw-caw!

A chicken ran,

“Blast—another mess!” it thought,

Scared clean out its wits.

A single dragonfly—

The chicken chased it round,

Peck-peck-pecking away.

It suddenly leapt up—flew and flew away!
The dragonfly was fortunate indeed.

The landowner’s only daughter—
For her, where might those two kinds be?
What’s the use of any of it?

Ahem.

She’s gone and become a pregnant woman.

What’s with all these bean flowers in the fields?

Blooming from early morn without a word—

they’re sprouting up all over, they are!

Mountain fire

The mountain where the baby hare and pheasant chick lived was ablaze.

Hurry up and escape!

You'll burn to death!

As for the pheasant chick that kept crying earlier—

The pheasant chick flew away.

What happened to the baby hare?

The one who ran desperately up the mountain and escaped—

Wasn't that the baby hare?

That’s a stray mountain weasel!

If it’s a weasel, its nose-tip oughta be black.

Black I say—black as night!

Pitch-black!

Go on—run and see for yourselves!

The entire mountain is a sea of fire.

Escape routes vanish.

What happened to the baby hare?

Is it on the mountain or not?

It came fleeing, out of breath.
Which direction did it flee to?
Toward the mountain where the pheasant chick flew.
It ran desperately.

My House

I. At That Time

When I returned from Tokyo,

Beside the chicken coop,

Figs had ripened to a purple color.

In the granary of my house,

Rice and wheat

Were piled up facing each other.

I was at the cedar-covered hill behind my house.

The nuthatches coming to sing

I was unbearably delighted.

When I rode my horse to the fields

The hoojiro sparrows

Above the thicket, they were chirping.

I opened the round window in the sitting room.

While gazing at the red hibiscus flowers,

Every day, I read books and idled away my time.

Old Man Tei pounded rice cakes and brought them over for me.

When I talked about airplanes,

Without believing it to be true, he went back.
I smoked rolled tobacco.
I gathered the village children.

I wandered through the garden thickets and played.

When evening approached,
I stood in the back rice fields,
smiling at Burns’s poetry in its pure simplicity.

I wanted to live this way for a hundred years, two hundred years—
—I wanted to live this way.

II. Bamboo Thicket

O snail,

O snail who fell stubbornly silent, O snail coiling in spirals!
What do I long for?
In the bamboo thicket
Softly, steadily, ceaselessly falls the rain.
In a dreamlike haze
I lived.

O snail,

Upon the sad cosmos flowers meant for me,

Rain fell from flower to flower.

Now, my home had reached its end.

O snail,

The rice paddies would be sold, the fields would be sold.

In the bamboo thicket

Softly, steadily, ceaselessly, the rain fell.

III. Frosty Morning

Frost had fallen pure white on the leek field before the stable.

As I was washing my face,

A bulbul arrived,

It was eating at the nandina berries,

The horse I had sold—

The horse trader came wearing geta to lead it away.

While the horse was being led out of the gate by the horse trader,
The horse looked back toward the stable with a sorrowful expression.
I ran out to the gate to look.
The cold morning sun was shining.
Through the rice fields,
The horse lowered its head and was led away by the horse trader.

I sat dazedly on the veranda.

A bulbul from the nandina tree

flew off to the camellia tree in the hedgerow,

turned toward me and called.

After I sold the oak trees from my house's hedgerow,

it had become truly wretchedly dilapidated.

From the rafters of the copper gate corroded by verdigris,

drops of melting frost dripped steadily down.

IV. Where To

In the rice fields I had sold,
A water rail was calling.
I grew sad and walked past without looking toward the fields.
In the former fields of my home,
Lush green wheat was growing.
I grew sad and walked past without looking toward the fields.
The Cedar Mountain that had been taken from me because of debt
Had turned jet black and was growing thickly.
I grew sad and walked past without looking toward the mountain.
I grew sad and could no longer remain in this village.

Where shall I go?

Why couldn’t I die and—
I must still be in this village

V. Dark Heart

The tobacco pouch—my deceased father’s keepsake that I had kept—
the retired pawnbroker
was carrying it around every day and smoking from it.
Every time I saw that, my chest tightened.
The summer coat I had worn
the old woman from the secondhand clothes shop
she was carrying it around every day to show it off.
Every time I heard that, my chest tightened.
The chickens I had kept at my home

When I sold them off,

They were immediately strangled and eaten.

When I saw the chicken feathers, my chest tightened.
I had lost all hope and desire—everything.
I neither wanted to live nor die; I felt nothing at all.
If only I hadn’t stayed in this village,
My heart might have found peace.

VI. The Wind Blows

A wind blew across the marsh behind my house.
The wind blew with profound depth.
The more one looked,
The wind blew.
The wind blew from mountains.
Across wide riverbed gravel stones,

On the gravel stones
The wind came blowing with a resonant moan.
In the village where I was born,
at the well bucket
the wind blew.
The wind was blowing with a resonant moan.

VII. Old Man Tei

When I was a boy,

I remember climbing onto the granary’s eaves and destroying the sparrow nests.
I also remember that the parent sparrow whose nest had been destroyed remained perched on the eaves even after the sun had set.
The granary I sold in the same year I sold the fields.
On the site of the granary, green mugwort was growing.
Every time I went out to the garden and looked, hot tears welled up in my chest.

I thought about stripping the copper from the gate’s roof to sell.
I put on shoes and set out for the town where the scrap dealers were.

On the way, I encountered Old Man Tei.

I had no choice but to talk about the copper.

“Since I can’t repay the debt to your honorable parents, at least—to make your household prosper—I’ve been praying to the honorable guardian deity too—”

Old Man Tei looked at my face with a sorrowful expression.
I too became truly sorrowful.
I returned without going to the scrap dealer’s shop.

I decided to sell the garden trees and called a gardener.

Old Man Tei came.
Old Man Tei’s eyes were brimming with tears.
I couldn’t bear it anymore and rushed into the house to cry alone.
The west wind blew over the rice plants every day.

Old Man Tei came to my house’s garden.

He always stood watching with a sorrowful face.

I gave Old Man Tei

I gave Old Man Tei the rosewood-lidded teacup that had long been in my family’s possession.

“This is your keepsake, then—”

Old Man Tei and I cried together.

The farmer walks along leading his horse with apparent cheerfulness.

At last, the joyless harvest season had arrived for me.

I, in the still dim light of morning,

I boarded the train holding a suitcase.

The stooped Old Man Tei stretched up and up at the ticket gate’s railing.

“Young master, please live well and stay safe,” he said to me through tears.

VIII. Hoojiro Sparrow

Whenever I went to the fields,

the sparrow would perch on the thicket and sing.

Hoojiro Sparrow!
I truly feel fondly of you.

I lost both my house and estate in this village.
I set out relying on my friends in Tokyo.
Today marked our parting.

Hoojiro Sparrow!
Stay well.

From Tokyo, I—
Whether I could ever return to this village again—
At that moment, I didn't know.
Even if I didn't return—
You had to stay well forever.
I was going to Tokyo—

I still don't know where I'll end up living.

Whether I live in Hongo or Asakusa

Even if I end up forgetting about this village,

Hoojiro Sparrow!
I find you dear and unforgettable.
Even if the wheat yellows in the fields, even if the rice yellows in the paddies—
Don’t eat from others’ fields for my sake.

In this village—
I no longer have my fields.

What will you eat to survive?

Scrounge up insects if you must—eat them and keep living for my sake.

Even in Tokyo I could barely scrape by.

Should you hear I’ve left Tokyo,

Hoojiro Sparrow!
Never feel sad for me.
Stay well and live in this village forever for me.

IX. Cat!

Having come to Tokyo and seen it—there was no means for me to live.

In my hometown—there wasn't even a house.

What was I to do?

In Kisarazu—there should be your uncle.

Let me come along—

Won't you take me with you?

Cat!

X. Summer

Deutzia bloom.
Cuckoo sings.
Summer has come.
In the marsh，iris flowers are also blooming.

Either way, I couldn’t stay here long.

The summer promised to me came.

I must vacate and return the house by tomorrow.

If I had any money to spare—

If only I could stay through the summer—

I wanted to live here in Katsushika.

I’ve resigned myself—I’ll go to Kobe.

After I left—

Who would come to live in this house?

I, who had lost my own house,

Even another's house becomes dear once I've grown accustomed to it.

I, who must spend my whole life living in rented houses,

Am like a wandering crow.

Last summer I was in Tokyo, and now this year I was in Katsushika.

Tears unknown to others

Had always filled my chest to the brim.

If there were a house that was firmly established as my own

How happy I would have been

Leaving this house I'd grown accustomed to once again,

I must go to an unknown foreign land.

A sorrowful summer has come to me.