LIBERTY SONG (JIYŪ KA)
Part 3
If there is someone
Then arrest me!
If there is someone
Then murder me! To arrest me
You curs!
To murder me
You curs!
If a million-strong
Comes, then come!
If a pack of tigers
Come, then come!
Army
You curs!
And wolves
You curs!
Standing in front of our steed
Of freedom
If we must die
If we must live The sovereign
We will not move!
We will!
We will!
We may be killed
Suffer many
If it is
Then, smiling Or even
Tribulations
For the sake of freedom
We shall meet our fates
Ah, our
Quickly
To sovereign
This is our sacrifice Corpses
We dedicate
Freedom
Beloved sovereign freedom
Even if we are murdered
What regrets do
Even if we are murdered
What regrets do And die
Our corpses have!
And die
Our corpses have!
OCHIAI NAOBUMI
Ochiai Naobumi (1861–1903) was born in Matsuiwa in the north of Japan. The Ochiai family adopted him in 1878 while he was studying at their Shintō shrine school. Ochiai went to Tokyo in 1881 to study and eventually became a lecturer at Tokyo University. His first published poem was “Song of the Faithful Daughter Shiragiku” (Kōjo Shiragiku no uta, 1888), which established his popularity as a “new-style” poet. This poem was originally written in Chinese by Inoue Tetsujirō (1855–1944), one of the editors and translators of the Selection of Poetry in the New Style, and was translated into Japanese by Ochiai. The poem-tale, an except of which is presented here, is 553 lines long and is one of the landmarks of Ochiai’s short but distinguished career.
SONG OF THE FAITHFUL DAUGHTER SHIRAGIKU (KŌ JO SHIRAGIKU NO UTA)
In the deepening autumn of a mountain fastness in Aso
Dusk falls in desolate surrounds
Somewhere the bell of a temple tolls
Telling of the impermanence of all things.
At that moment a maiden is waiting
At a gate for her father
Wiping her tears with her sleeves
She is sunk in melancholy
As if she were a pale aronia flower
Wearied by the rain.
They say that her father went hunting recently
No tidings yet have come
The sound of falling leaves striking the eaves
The sound of water striking the bamboo pipe
Thinking her father may have returned
Night after night not a moment does she sleep
The rains have come tonight
Beating against the banana tree in the garden
Amid the myriad voices of the insects
Adding sadness to sadness.
So lonely in the late night
Unable perhaps to bear her thoughts alone
Donning a traveling hat and grasping a walking stick
About to leave on a journey, how sad her figure!
SHIMAZAKI TŌSON
Shimazaki Tōson (1872–1943) was born in Magome in Nagano Prefecture but was sent to Tokyo for school at the age of nine. He graduated in English from Meiji gakuin, a Christian mission school, where he later became a teacher. Tōson’s first book of poetry was Young Herbs (Wakanashū, 1897), which is commonly regarded as the finest example of “new-style” poetry published up to that time. The following two poems are from Young Herbs.
THE FOX’S TRICK (KITSUNE NO WAZA)
Little fox hiding in the garden
In the evening when all are away sneaks
Into the autumn shadows of the grape arbor
Secretly stealing a cluster of dew-tipped grapes
But my love is not a fox
Nor you the grapes yet
In secret, with no one knowing,
My heart has stolen you
FIRST LOVE (HATSUKOI)
When I saw you under the apple tree
With your hair swept up for the first time
I thought you were the flower
In the flower comb you wore in front
When you gently extended your soft white hand
And gave me an apple
It was the very first time I loved someone
With the pale red of the autumn fruit
When my sigh unknowingly
Passed through the threads of your hair
I drank of your passion
From the cup of my tender love
The narrow, natural path
Under the trees in the apple grove
Who first trod this path?
Whose steps left the first traces?
You asked, how lovely, I thought
YOSANO HIROSHI
Yosano Hiroshi (1873–1935) was the son of a priest in Kyoto. In 1892 he went to Tokyo, where he studied verse under the poet Ochiai Naobumi. Yosano soon established his own school of reform waka and various magazines in which he promoted his ideas, producing in quick succession a number of volumes of verse. Both of the poems translated here are “new-style” poems. “Victory Arches” (Gaisenmon) is generally regarded as one of the finest poems about the Sino-Japanese War (1894/1895) and presages a famous antiwar poem that his wife later wrote about the Russo-Japanese War (1904/1905). Purple (Murasaki, 1901), which includes “Withered Lotus” (Haika), is one of the verse collections written under the influence of his wife, the poet Yosano Akiko, and contains poems about various members of his circle.
VICTORY ARCHES (GAISENMON, MAY 1895)
When will father return home?
The one who asks when he will return,
If I tell him that he will not return
Then I will break his child’s heart.
On the morning breeze in the towns and cities
Flag after flag is arrayed
Together with military music proclaiming victory
The sound of fireworks can be heard.
Hearing this, our hearts leap with joy,
People flock to see the victory arches,
But the wife of the captain’s house,
Does not send her child to see them.
WITHERED LOTUS (HAIKA)
Wandering in the evening beside Shinobazu pond
My tears will they not stop?
I plucked a lotus leaf under the thin moon
Drinking saké at Chōdatei, how cold I am
Does it not resemble the arbor at Suminoe?
In the sweetness of eternal dream
I said for eternity
It was but one autumn
How frail the flowers!
How frail my love!
Resting on the railing
Your eyes downcast
Air, what did you write
In the poem on the lotus leaf ?
TAKESHIMA HAGOROMO
Takeshima Hagoromo (1872–1967) was born in Tokyo. He studied Japanese literature at Tokyo Imperial University, where, with a number of like-minded poets, he started a school of poetry that produced elegant, archaic verse. Takeshima achieved fame as a scholar of Japanese literature and published a number of collections of poetry and poetic prose. The following “new-style” poem was first published in the Sun (Taiyō) magazine in 1901.
THE MAIDEN CALLED LOVE (KOI NO OTOME)
Spring breezes blow, grasses bud,
In the forest glade, beside a bubbling spring,
Tossing her black locks,
The maiden called “Love” was standing.
By the by, there passed beside her,
A comely knight on horseback
,
In a gallant voice he called,
“Come hither, oh maiden, to me.”
The maiden silently shook her head,
Displeased, the knight took his leave.
Ah unstained love,
No brave warrior would she have.
Next to come by was
A minstrel delicate of frame.
His cool, black eyes,
Shining like lacquer.
The birds blushed in their nests,
At his sweet-throated
Singing, his voice eloquently calling,
“Come hither, oh maiden, to me.”
The maiden silently shook her head,
Displeased, he took his leave.
Ah sacred love,
No rare music would she have.
Next to be seen with flowing side locks was,
A Confucian scholar, hair whiter than snow,
His brow so lofty,
Countless talents must he possess.
With bright, piercing eye,
No soft words had he.
Solemn of mien, stern of voice
“Come hither, oh maiden, to me.”
The maiden silently shook her head,
Displeased, he took his leave.
Ah piteous love,
No deep learning would she have.
The next to be seen was
A courier exalted in the world,
A crown bedecked with jewel,
So his nobility did glitter.
His horse-drawn carriage,
Guarded by brave samurai,
Beckoning to her, he called,
“Come hither, oh maiden, to me.”
The maiden silently shook her head,
Displeased, he took his leave.
Oh noble love,
No great rank would she have.
Now then, after, there came on foot,
A merchant as rich as Croesus,
On his chest laden with gold
A large purse could be seen.
Silver and gold all jumbled
Offering a handful of treasure,
Calling in his gilded voice,
“Come hither, oh maiden, to me.”
The maiden silently shook her head,
Displeased, he took his leave.
Alas, lofty love,
No vast wealth would she have.
Spring breezes so fragrant, flowers blossoming
Accompanied by the lute of the bubbling spring.
Unawares in the wooded glade,
There came a man called “Love.”
His eyes overflowing with emotion,
Sincerity o’erspilling his heart,
He gently whispered,
“Come hither, oh maiden, to me.”
The maiden smiling, nodded.
Breast embraced breast.
Ah true love
Only true love would she have.
* * *
1. The kirin is a mythical animal in Chinese legend that appears only in a benevolently ruled country.
2. Hankei was a Chinese patriot.
3. The Taewŏn’gun was the father of King Kojong and the rival of Queen Min.
Chapter 2
BEGINNINGS
By the end of the nineteenth century, the movement for a literature that examined contemporary concerns and that could be written in the vernacular had come to occupy a more central place in the literary world of Japan. From these shared assumptions, the careers of three of the country’s most innovative early-twentieth-century writers were launched. For succeeding generations, the works of Natsume Sōseki, Shimazaki Tōson, and Mori Ōgai served as exemplars of the social and spiritual understanding that an authentic literature of their time might attain.
The range of styles and subject matter used during this period was wide. Some writers, now increasingly distanced from the past, began to write more objectively about the Tokugawa period, which had ended some forty or fifty years earlier. Others, who wished to pay homage to the literary accomplishments of the past, tried casting these traditions in a new way, using elements of the old methods of storytelling to which they added contemporary language and a new emphasis on psychological depth. Still other writers, often termed “naturalists,” attempted to capture the inner lives of their own times. More often than not, they turned, in what they took to be their honesty, to the unseemly, even sordid, aspects of contemporary personal and social life, often in quasi-autobiographical narratives. In examining those same social difficulties of the period, yet another group of writers sought out larger reasons behind the ills to which they bore witness. It was from such beginnings that writers interested in socialism or Marxism developed.
The influence of foreign literature, often used as putative models, continued to be important. For Sōseki, who lived in London as an advanced student, it was the traditions of English fiction; for Nagai Kafū and Shimazaki Tōson, both of whom spent time in France, it was the French poetic and literary tradition; and for Mori Ōgai, after his years in Germany, it was the German romantics and, later, the German avant-garde of the early twentieth century. Increasingly skillful translations of a greater variety of literature continued to appear in Japanese. By the end of the first decade of the twentieth century, Chekhov, Tolstoy, Goethe, and Shakespeare were widely read and appreciated.
Along with the influence of foreign literature during this period, there was an intense interest in Christianity, perceived to represent a deeper set of beliefs believed by some to be the fuel for the engines of Western culture. A number of writers adopted these values, at least for part of their creative lives, and still today, some important Japanese writers hold Christian beliefs. On the whole, however, by the time of World War I this early idealistic enthusiasm among writers and intellectuals had shifted toward seeking out and supporting systems of social change, ranging from agricultural reform to socialism and Marxism.
The period from the turn of the twentieth century to World War I can be termed chronologically as the true beginning of what was known at the time as “modern Japanese literature.” In the work of its best and most representative writers, those years remain a high point seldom surpassed.
FICTION
FUTABATEI SHIMEI
Futabatei Shimei (1864–1909) wrote his first novel, Drifting Clouds (Ukigumo), in 1887, when he was only in his early twenties. This highly successful experiment, usually considered the first modern novel written in Japan, was based on his conviction that the language used in fiction must mirror contemporary speech, an ideal that Futabatei shared with his contemporary, the young critic Tsubouchi Shōyō (1859–1935), who later became famous as both a dramatist and the first translator of the entire corpus of Shakespeare into Japanese. Together, these two men debated between themselves as to what model to choose for a truly contemporary novel in Japan. The result of these discussions, helped by Futabatei’s interest in the strategies adopted by the nineteenth-century novelist Turgenev, helped create his highly successful prototype, excerpts of which follow.
The Columbia Anthology of Modern Japanese Literature: From Restoration to Occupation, 1868-1945: vol. 1 (Modern Asian Literature Series) Page 9