by Hiroaki Sato
One night when the moon was bright, he said to his aunt, “Mama, let’s go. They’re having some holy ceremony at the temple, and I’d like to show it to you.” The aunt was overjoyed and let herself be carried on his back. Since they lived on the outskirts of a tall mountain, it was a good distance to its peak. When he reached a spot from where it would be impossible for the old woman to return, he abandoned her and ran away. She cried out, “Wait!” but he didn’t even respond as he ran.
Back home, when he thought about what he had done, he grew extremely sad. Yes, he had been angry with his aunt whenever his wife said bad things about her, but that he’d ended up doing something like this! After all, hadn’t he lived with her and taken care of her as if she were his own mother? As he watched the moon shine unimaginably bright above the mountain, he was unable to sleep all night. Feeling great sorrow, he made a poem:
わが心なぐさめかねつ更級や姨捨山に照る月をみて
Waga kokoro nagusamekanetsu Sarashina ya Obasute-yama ni teru tsuki o mite
My heart unconsolable in Sarashina as I see the moon shine over the hill where I abandoned my aunt
Then he climbed back up the mountain and brought her home. It was probably from that time that the mountain was called Obasute-yama, “Aunt-Abandoned Mountain.” It may be because of this incident that it has been used as a metaphor for “hard to soothe.”
8.
一輪咲きし芍薬の窓
ichirin sakishi shakuyaku no mado
a single bloom in the window of peonies
Tōtō
Category: summer. Kigo: peony (Paeonia lactiflora). The peony was originally imported from China to Japan as an herbaceous plant. In Greek mythology, too, it was used for its medicinal effect, as the Latin name suggests. According to Homer, Paean was “the physician of the gods; he healed Hades when the latter was wounded by Heracles, and cured Ares when he was wounded by Diomedes during the Trojan War.” But in ancient Chinese poetry the peony was a symbol of elegance and sensuousness, as befitting the flower’s appearance. In the Confucian Odes, the flower appears in a pair of songs exalting “free love.” Because the suggestion is made of a young man in the preceding link, Tōtō suggests a student who, as he looks out the window and sees a single blooming peony in the rain, wistfully imagines a beautiful, sensual woman.
9.
碁の工夫二日とぢたる目を明て
go no kufû futsuka tojitaru me o akite
eyes closed on a go move for two days he now opens
Bashō
Category: miscellaneous. A numerical associational device is often used in renga linking. Here the preceding link had ichi, “one,” and Bashō responded with “two.” A single blooming peony can be an inspiration. Bashō thought of a noble man of leisure—someone who can spend two days meditating on his next move in the game of go.
10.
周にかへると狐なくなり
Shū ni kaeru to kitsune nakunari
“I’m going back to Zhou,” the fox cries
Tōyō
Category: miscellaneous. The preceding two links intensified thoughts of China, so Tōyō directly mentions the Zhou dynasty (1000–249 BC).
Legends about a fox with nine tails in the form of a beautiful human female are said to date from the Yin dynasty (c. 1600–1046 BC). In Japan, there are a number folktales about a fox transmogrifying into a human being. One at the Shōkoku Temple, in Kyoto, turned himself into the tea master Sen no Sōtan. One coming down at the Seihō Temple, in Osaka, concerns a fox cub who, out of loneliness, turned himself into an old man, learned to play go, and went on to become an expert, until he was found out and killed. The resident monk of the temple pitied him, offered prayers for him, and built a shrine to turn him into a protecting deity of the temple.
For this reason, Collection of Analogous Boats (Ruisen shū), a 1676 dictionary of words and phrases to be used in tsukeai, “linking,” for the haikai beginner, listed go and kitsune, “fox,” as associational. To give another example, for the word roshi, “on the road,” you could use any word from the following: snow, frost, horse, cow (cattle), cart, storm, ship, torn sandals, and abandoned straw sandals.
11.
靈芝掘る河原はるかに暮かゝり
reishi horu kawara harukani kurekakari
as I dig holy mushrooms darkness falls across the riverbed
Tōtō
Category: miscellaneous. Reishi, here translated as “holy mushrooms,” were felicitous fungi said to grow only during the reign of an enlightened ruler in ancient China. And so the Chinese associations continue. In Japan, the fungi has also been called “ten-thousand-year mushroom,” man’nentake (Ganoderma lucidum Karst).
12.
花表はげたる松の入口
torii hagetaru matsu no iriguchi
the torii peeling at the entrance to a pine grove
Kōzan
Category: miscellaneous. The holy mushroom reishi prompts the image of the pine, a metaphor for longevity.
Most likely, Kōzan thought of the torii (usually written 鳥居) to the south of Atsuta Shrine, now some distance away from the bay but at the time located on a cape extending into Ise Bay. As a result, the torii was also called minato no torii, “the harbor torii,” or hama no torii, “beach torii.” One of the most important shrines in Japan, the Atsuta Shrine also evoked China: the shrine was nicknamed Hōrai-gū—Hōrai (Penglai) being the land for the immortals in Chinese mythology.
At the time, the shrine was in a state of utter neglect, so Kōzan was describing the torii just as it was—if he in fact was referring to it. It was known for the huge pine grove that almost engulfed it. At any rate, the scene switches to Japan.
13.
笠敷て衣のやぶれ綴リ居る
kasa shikite koromo no yabure tsuzuri oru
hat on the ground he’s mending the tear in his robe
Tōyō
Category: miscellaneous. “Torii peeling” is juxtaposed with “tear.” The words, kasa, “hat,” and koromo, “robe,” suggest a traveling priest.
14.
あきの烏の人喰にゆく
aki no karasu no hito kui ni iku
autumn crows fly to devour humans
Bashō
Category: autumn. The priest suggested in the preceding link prompts the Buddhist notion of transience: human corpses eaten by crows. An abandoned corpse was probably not an uncommon sight in those days.
The mention of the moon is optional for this link. In this sequence the moon is picked up in the next link.
15.
一昨日の野分の濱は月澄て
ototoi no nowaki no hama wa tsuki sumite
two days ago a storm struck this beach: the moon is clear
Kōzan
Category: autumn. Kigo: nowaki, “field-cleaver” (so called because of the way gusty winds seem to cleave the grassfields) and the moon. Kōzan explains the reason for the existence of human corpses lying unburied.
16.
霧の雫に龍を書續ぐ
kiri no shizuku ni ryō o kakitsugu
with misty drops he goes on painting the dragon
Tōtō
Category: autumn. Kigo: mist. In Chinese imaginings the dragon is the king of clouds and controller of rains, so the mention of a storm that has passed makes Tōtō think of a dragon being painted by a transcendental painter who uses no ordinary water but droplets of mist for his paints.
17.
華曇る石の扉を押ひらき
hana kumoru ishi no tobira o oshihiraki
blossoms cloud over as stone doors are pushed open
Tōyō
Category: spring. Kigo: (cherry) blossoms. The position requires the mention of hana, “flowers,” “blosso
ms.” Hana-gumori—here used as a verb—refers to the cloudiness that frequently occurs when cherry trees start to bloom in Japan. The phenomenon, coupled with the poetic affectation of deliberately confusing cherry blossoms with clouds, may have helped create this pretty expression, which literally says “flowery clouds.” “Stone doors” suggests a cave deep in the mountains and therefore a painter practicing strict asceticism.
Switching seasons without an interceding link on a miscellaneous topic, as here, is called ki-utsuri, “season-switching.”
18.
美人のかたち拝むかげろふ
bijin no katachi ogamu kagerō
to the beautiful form he prays in heat haze
Kōzan
Category: spring. Kigo: heat haze. This also belongs to the category of love, which is indicated by bijin, “beauty.” The “beautiful form”—or more literally, “the form of a beauty”—refers to a female manifestation of a Buddha. Among the most revered Buddhas who appear in female manifestation in Japan is Kannon (Kanzeon) Bosatsu (Avalokiteśvara), a Bodhisattva who “hears the calls of the suffering world.”
19.
蝦夷の聟聲なき蝶と身を詫びて
Ezo no muko koe naki chō to mi o wabite
the Ainu groom’s sad that he’s a voiceless butterfly
Bashō
Category: spring. Kigo: butterfly. Also, love: (bride-)groom. Bashō explains why the man in the preceding link is offering prayers. After centuries of battles, the Ainu people were pushed back to the northern regions and by Bashō’s time they were largely confined to the island of Ezo, now called Hokkaidō. This may be one of the rare cases in classical Japanese poetry where a member of Japan’s ethnic minority is described along with his inability to express himself well, although many accounts of the Ainu, including those by haikai writers, were written during the Edo period (1603–1868). Bashō may be suggesting that a young Ainu man married to a Japanese woman compares himself to a butterfly who can’t voice its love to a flower.
20.
生海鼠干すにも袖はぬれけり
namako hosu ni mo sode wa nurekeri
even as he dries sea cucumbers he wets his sleeves
Tōtō
Category: winter. Kigo: sea cucumbers. During the Edo period sea cucumbers were considered a special product of Ezo—as The Pictorial Illustrations of All Phenomena of Japan and China (Wakan sansai zue), published in 1712, says, “Sea cucumbers are found in the ocean of Tsugaru, Matsumae”—although in truth they were harvested throughout Japan (and throughout the world). The hard life intensifies the pain of the inability to put his feelings into words. Wetting sleeves suggests weeping, not just the handling of wet things.
Another ki-utsuri—switching seasons without a non-seasonal link.
21.
木の間より西に御堂の壁白く
ko no ma yori nishi ni mi-dō no kabe shiroku
beyond the trees, to the west, an altar-hall’s white walls
Kōzan
Category: miscellaneous. By mentioning a mi-dō, a small building enshrining a Buddhist statue, Kōzan changes the cause of wetting the sleeves—namely, crying—from a communication problem to a sense of guilt for killing sentient beings. The Ainu man suffering two links earlier from love becomes, here, a fisherman whose devout faith in Buddhist commandments makes him weep even while killing sea cucumbers. In the west lies Nirvana.
22.
薮に葛屋の十ばかり見ゆ
yabu ni kuzuya no tō bakari miyu
in the wood you see ten or so thatched huts
Bashō
Category: miscellaneous. Simple linking—perhaps because, despite its appearance, the preceding link is somewhat elaborate: the west is the direction of Buddhist Paradise and white is a symbol of purity.
The two expressions, “beyond the trees” and “in the wood,” may be too similar, appearing as they do in two consecutive links. Did Bashō not even try to change one or the other because he was having too much fun boating?
23.
ほつほつと焙烙作る祖父ひとり
hotsuhotsu to hōroku tsukuru jiji hitori
leisurely making earthen pots grandpa all alone
Tōtō
Category: miscellaneous. Hotsuhotsu to, here given as “leisurely,” is a semi-onomatopoeic phrase; coupled with the word hōroku, “flat, earthen pots,” it is effective in suggesting an unhurried craftsman making simple utensils in a small village.
24.
京に名高し瘤の呪詛
Kyō ni nadakashi kobu no majinai
famous in Kyoto for magic words for wens
Tōyō
Category: miscellaneous. It appears that wens were a rather common affliction in the old days in Japan; there are folktales about old men encumbered with these growths. Here the “magic words” are used to remove them. The old man in the preceding link who doesn’t seem to have any skill other than making cheap, simple pots turns out to be endowed with a magical power and known throughout the old capital of Kyoto.
25.
富士の根と笠きて馬に乗ながら
Fuji no ne to kasa kite uma ni norinagara
“Look, Mount Fuji”—I put on a hat and climb a horse
Bashō
Category: miscellaneous. The man is summoned by someone in Kyoto and prepares to depart on a long trip. As elsewhere, the identity of the person described is left unspecified—my choice of “I” here is arbitrary. To avoid all indication of the acting subject, the 7-5 syllables may be given, “hat donned, horse mounted.”
Bashō here performs honkadori, the practice of incorporating a couple of phrases from another poem in your own. The Tale of a Wrinkled Box cites the following tanka as the source of Bashō’s 5-7-5:
旅人の笠きて馬に乗ながら口をひかれてにしへこそゆけ
Tabibito no kasa kite uma ni norinagara kuchi o hikarete nishi e koso yuke
The story behind it, as Tōyō tells it, is this: When Fujiwara no Teika was a boy, his father, Shunzei, the greatest arbiter of poetic matters of the day, asked him point-blank, “How do you make poems?” The boy replied, “I would make poems out of things not particularly notable, without adornment,” looked outside, and came up with the poem, which means something like: “A traveler in a hat riding a horse goes west led by the bit.”
So Bashō in his link replicates 7-5 of the original. Teika sanctified honkadori, and because of his great fame various stories and poems were concocted for him. The poem Tōyō cited, which is what Bashō may have cited as well, is not in the complete works of Teika.
26.
寐に行鶴のひとつ飛らん
ne ni iku tsuru no hitotsu toburan
the lone crane’s flying home to sleep it seems
Kōzan
Category: miscellaneous. Picturing a lone crane flying against the soaring mountain is effective.
27.
待暮に鏡をしのび薄粧ひ
matsu kure ni kagami o shinobi usu-kehai
waiting at dusk, furtively, she lightly makes up in the mirror
Tōyō
Kigo: love: “waiting at dusk.” The sight of a lone crane flying back to its nest reminds a young woman that her lover hasn’t shown up despite his promise. Why furtively? Probably because she is not a professional woman, and a young woman in a regular household is not supposed to put on makeup.
28.
衣かづく小性萩の戸を推ス
kinu kazuku koshō hagi no to o osu
clad in a robe a page pushes the bush clover door
Tōtō
Category: autumn. Kigo: bush clover. Love: this is suggested by the act described in the link. After some suspense, the affair turns out to be between a maidservant
and a nobleman’s page, which is suggested by “robe.” The scene switches, in a few links, from the vast expanse of the highest mountain in Japan to a minute act in a corner of a small garden.
29.
月細く土圭の響八ツなりて
tsuki hosoku tokei no hibiki yatsu narite
under the thin moon the clock has struck eight
Kōzan
Category: autumn. Kigo: moon. moon. The position for the moon verse. By Japanese reckoning during the Edo period, “eight” in reference to the time of day means around two o’clock in the morning. The clock, tokei, mentioned here is jimeishō, “automatically ringing bell.” Francis Xavier first brought the mechanical clock to Japan in 1551, some say. Such clocks were owned only by men of considerable wealth or social standing: hence the page.
30.
棺いそぐ消がたの露
hayaoke isogu kiegata no tsuyu
a coffin hurries as the dew evaporates
Bashō
Category: autumn. Kigo: dew. A sudden change from a scene of love to a scene of a funeral. Dew evaporating is a metaphor for death. “Crude coffin,” hayaoke, is a coffin made quickly in an emergency.
31.
破れたる具足を国に送りけり
yaburetaru gusoku o kuni ni okurikeri
his broken armor has been sent to his home
Tōtō
Category: miscellaneous. The man in the coffin turns out to be a warrior killed in battle.
32.
高麗のあがたに畠作りて
Koma no agata ni hatake tsukurite
in a Korean countryside he works a farm
Tōyō
Category: miscellaneous. Toyotomi Hideyoshi sent military forces to Korea for the purpose of conquering China in 1592 and 1597. Both expeditions ended in failure. Tōyō describes a Japanese warrior who decided to remain in Korea and settle down as a farmer after the invading armies returned to Japan. This, too, is an unusual reference in renga. Again, the switch is notable—the armor was sent home not because its owner died but because he gave up soldiery.