Written on Water

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Written on Water Page 5

by Takashi Kojima

Like the siLkworms in cocoons,

  Which her mother rears.

  (2495)

  102

  Every morn and eve,

  Even if I could see your face

  Clearly in my hand mirror

  Which I hold before me,

  I'd never tire of gazing at you.

  (2502)

  103

  O that I had gazed

  Longer at the face

  Of the dear lover of my heart

  When he left in the early morn.

  All this day Long I'll pine for him.

  (2841)

  104

  How can I e'er see

  My sweet one with indifference,

  Just as other people do?

  I never see my love

  But l wish to rest my head

  On her tender silken arm.

  (2843)

  A more modern young man might express the last two lines in some other way, e. g.,

  But I wish to kiss

  Her cheeks and rosy lips.

  105

  Longing for him,

  While I tie my sash,

  Visible to all,

  Many a time I untie

  The unseen inner cord.

  (2851)

  106

  Rumors spreading wide,

  Now I dare not meet her.

  Were she undergarments,

  With the rumor everywhere,

  l would wear her close.

  (2852)

  107

  My consuming passion

  Robbed me of restful sleep.

  O morning breeze!

  If you brushed my sweet Love,

  Come and touch me as well.

  (2858)

  108

  Cherry blossoms fair

  Only too soon fall and scatter.

  Such is the way of Life.

  Crowds come and go,

  Meet and scatter in a moment.

  (3129)

  109

  'Tis a thousand years

  Since I met you last.

  I must be bemused.

  Anticipating seeing you—

  So many years have passed, it seems.

  (3470)

  110

  Swept up

  in the haste of departure,

  I came away without speaking

  To my beloved wife.

  Fathomless is my regret.

  (3481)

  Yamabe-no-Akahito

  Next to Kakinomoto-no-Hitomaro, Yamabe-no-Akahito stands out as the greatest poet in the history of Japanese poetry. His genius lies especially in the realm of short poems, and his nature poems are particularly inspired. The short poems introduced here are his loveliest. His masterpieces (Nos. 112 and 113) are the two envoys of a long poem portraying a view of theYoshino mountains, which he composed when he accompanied Emperor Shōmu on a trip toYoshino.

  The dates of his birth and death are uncertain. He was a contemporary of Ōtomo-no-Tabito and was most active in the middle of the Nara period. The Nara period was different from the preceding period, when Kakinomoto-no-Hitomaro lived, for the real power had shifted to the hands of the Fujiwara family, and the emperor no longer had absolute power. In his poetry, instead of eulogizing the divine glory of the imperial reign, Akahito laid emphasis on the aesthetic appreciation of natural beauty.

  The following poem is the envoy of a long poem.

  111

  On the Togo coast,

  The graceful form of Mt. Fuji

  Appears in clear view,

  Its sky-high peak

  Thickly clad in white snow.

  (318)

  112

  In the treetops

  On the slopes of Mt. Kisa,

  Flocks of singing birds

  Fill the dense woods

  With their joyous songs.

  (924)

  113

  As the night wears on

  By the banks of a clear stream

  Overgrown with bushes,

  Plovers in the thicket

  Send up their cry.

  (925)

  114

  Should my travels leave me spent,

  Like clothes worn to tatters,

  Would I forget

  My captivating love

  For a single day?

  (947)

  115

  Violet gathering,

  into the vernal fields I went.

  So beautiful were the fields

  That I slept the night

  In the open air.

  (1424)

  116

  leaving their abodes

  And flying over hills

  Into the vernal fields,

  Warblers sing

  Among the trees in bloom.

  (3915)

  Ōtomo-no-Tabito (665-731)

  Ōtomo-no-Tabito was born of an illustrious family renowned for its military exploits. The once illustrious Ōtomo military clan, of which he was the leader, was in steady decline, eclipsed by the rising influence of the Fujiwara family. He was well acquainted with Chinese literature, Buddhism, and Taoism. He rose to assume a good ministerial post at court. In 727, when he was a little past sixty years of age, he was appointed governor general of the Dazaifu (the headquarters of the government and defense of Kyushu). He must have felt frustrated, for he had to leave the central political arena in Nara.

  He had a bright, sociable character, and he formed a poetry circle at the Dazaifu, which was as prestigious as the one in Nara.

  Earlier he had lost his first wife. While he was on his way to Kyushu, he shared the joy of viewing noted sights and scenic spots in company with his second wife. However, shortly after their arrival in Kyushu, his second wife died. In poetry he sought consolation for his grief over her death and frustration in life. His noted poems in praise of sake are considered to have been written in part to drown his grief over the death of his beloved wife and in part to express his feelings of frustration in politics. Two of his sake poems (Nos. 117 and 118) are included in this book. His short, touching poems about his late wife (Nos. 121 to 127) are treasured as exquisite gems of poetry.

  In 730 he was recalled to court service to assume the high office of chief councilor. He died a year later.

  The following two poems are in praise of sake.

  117

  'Tis no easy task

  To become a man of worth.

  Fain I'd be a jug

  For holding fine sake,

  In which I'd steep myself.

  (343)

  118

  Not a precious stone

  Nor a priceless brilliant gem

  Nothing whatsoe'er

  Has so much worth to me

  As a cup of raw sake.

  (345)

  119

  If I can enjoy myself

  While I'm in this mundane world

  What should I care,

  If I were born a bird

  Or an insect in my next life?

  (348)

  120

  All that live on earth

  Will be shortly dead and gone.

  So while we're alive,

  In this mundane world, why not

  Let our Life be sweet and gay?

  (349)

  121

  How should I e'er let

  Anyone, however fair,

  Rest her head upon my arm,

  Whereupon my Late beloved wife

  Used to pillow her Lovely head?

  (438)

  122

  Now the time has come

  To return to my old home

  In the capital

  But no fair one shall I find

  On whose arm to rest my head.

  (439)

  123

  Now my wife is no more.

  Far more trying it will be

  For me to abide alone

  At my Lonely residence

  in the royal city of Nara

  Than to travel in the wilds,


  Sleeping on a bed of grass.

  (440)

  124

  juniper tree

  With your roots fast spread o'er a crag!

  I once saw you with my wife.

  Should I ask you where she is,

  Could you tell me her whereabouts?

  (448)

  125

  The Cape of Minume,

  Which gave great delight

  To my wife and me,

  Blinds my eyes with bitter tears

  On my solitary return home.

  (449)

  126

  O this scenic cape,

  Which delighted us

  During our travel,

  is not worth a glance to me

  On my Lonely return.

  (450)

  127

  I can never see

  The plum tree which my late wife

  Planted in the garden

  But I am overcome with grief,

  And my eyes blur with bitter tears.

  (464)

  128

  When I confront

  The world's emptiness,

  All the more i feel

  The futility and the grief

  Of our mortal life.

  (793)

  129

  Plum petals

  Fluttering in my garden-

  Could they be flakes of snow

  Falling from the azure sky,

  Dancing in the air?

  (822)

  When Ōtomo-no-Tabito was transferred from the governor generalship to a high post in the central government, many people gave him a send-off as far as the mizuki (a moated castle). Among them was a courtesan. She presented him with the following poem, singing it while dancing in tears. He was deeply moved and composed No. 131.

  130

  You are going home to Yamato,

  Far beyond the clouds.

  Pray don't think me gauche

  If I wave my arms,

  Bidding you farewell.

  (966)

  131

  Warrior as I am,

  I could not repress my tears

  On the bank of the castle moat

  At the tender farewell song

  Of the maid who saw me off.

  (968)

  Yamanoue-no-Okura (660—733)

  Yamanoue-no-Okura was born in the Korean Kingdom of Paekche. At that time, the Korean peniusula was in turmoil. The peninsula was divided into three kingdoms—Koguryo, Paekche, and Silla—which often were at war with one another. In 660, when Okura was born, Silla, in alliance with Tang China, conquered Paekche. In 663 Japan sent an expedition in aid of Paekche, but it suffered a crushing defeat by the combined forces of Silla and Tang. At this time, many people from Paekche took refuge in Japan, and numbers of competent officials and skilled people of Paekche served at the Japanese court.

  In 663, when Okura was three years old, he was brought to Japan by his father, a physician, who became a physician-in-ordinary to Emperor Temmu. Okura served at court as a lower-rank official. In 703, when he was forty-three years old, he was selected as a clerk for an embassy to the Tang court, in recognition of his great knowledge of Confucianism and Buddhism. After returning to Japan, he was promoted to tutor to the crown prince, who later became Emperor Shomu. When he was sixty years of age, he was appointed governor of a province in Kyushu and served under Ōtomo-no-Tabito, governor general of Kyushu. For five years, he was a prominent member of Ōtomo-no-Tabito s poetry circle. During this time he composed most of his good poetry. While most other poets of the Man'yōshū dealt with the theme of love, his best works are on the themes of poverty and misery and parental love for children.

  Upon leaving a banquet earlier than the other guests, Okura humorously gave his loving care for his children as the reason.

  132

  Ladies and gentlemen,

  Let me retire

  From this banquet now.

  My young children may be crying,

  While their mother, careworn,

  Awaits my return home.

  (337)

  133

  Ne'er a melon do I eat

  But my children I recall.

  Ne'er a chestnut do I taste

  But I wish to give them some.

  From whence did they come?

  Always there in my thoughts

  Floating ever before my eyes,

  They disturb my restful sleep.

  (802)

  134

  More to be desired

  Than fine silver and bright gold

  Are my children dear.

  Far more highly than vast wealth

  My children do I prize.

  (803)

  A Dialogue on Poverty

  Around 732, when Okura composed this poem, the country, which was groaning under heavy taxes, was visited by a series of disasters—drought, famine, severe earthquakes, and a country-wide plague of smallpox—that took a heavy toll of life. The people were in great distress. Being governor of a province, he was well acquainted with the people's miseries.

  The poem is in the form of a dialogue between two men in poverty and is divided into two parts. The first part is a monologue of a man who may possibly be an official of very low rank or an influential personage in his village. He thinks of himself as a man of consequence, though he is pinched with poverty and cold, and wonders how still poorer people sustain their lives. The second part gives a vivid portrayal of a man and his family in dire poverty. The second part forms a reply to the first part.

  In Okura's day, no one could hazard frank political criticism with impunity. This moving dialogue between poverty-stricken people may well have had a more effective reformatory influence than any blatant criticism of politics and life. Poems portraying poverty and suffering are rare in the Man'yōshū. This poem is considered among the most important poetical works of the anthology.

  A question by a poor villager

  135

  On chilly nights

  When the wind howls and rain pelt down;

  On bleak, cold nights

  When sleet turns to snow,

  I am numb and frozen,

  And I know not what to do.

  Nibbling raw salt,

  Sipping gruel of sake lees,

  Sniffling, my nose cold,

  Loud l cough and clear my throat.

  Yet I proudly think,

  Stroking my meager mustache,

  No one in the world

  is as worthy as I am,

  Yet so cold is the night

  That I wrap myself

  in my tattered hempen quilt,

  Piling on all my clothes.

  How does a poorer man fare?

  Parents, freezing, must starve.

  His poor wife and Little ones

  Beg for food with bitter tears.

  A reply by a man in destitute poverty

  136

  Sky and earth are Large.

  But for me they have shrunk.

  Sun and moon are bright.

  But for me they do not shine.

  Is this my sole fate?

  Or do others fare the same?

  I was born a man,

  And I work my hardest on the farm.

  I wear unlined rags,

  Which, tattered Like seaweed,

  DangLe from my shoulders.

  Lowly is my hut,

 

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