SEIHAKU, Irako





蓆戸に

秋風吹いて

河添の旅籠屋さびし

哀れなる旅の男は

夕暮の空を眺めて

いと低く歌ひはじめぬ


亡母は

處女と成りて

白き額月に現はれ

亡父は

童子と成りて

圓き肩銀河を渡る


柳洩る

夜の河白く

河越えて煙の小野に

かすかなる笛の音ありて

旅人の胸に觸れたり


故郷の

谷間の歌は

續きつゝ斷えつゝ哀し

大空の返響の音と

地の底のうめきの声と

交はりて調は深し


旅人に

母はやどりぬ

若人に

父は降れり

小野の笛煙の中に

かすかなる節は残れり


旅人は

歌ひ續けぬ

嬰子の昔にかへり

微笑みて歌ひつゝあり



Wandering

At reed-door blows the autumn wind;

How bleak the river inn.

The pitiable traveller

Looks up at evening sky

And softly starts to sing.

His long-departed mother's face,

A fair maid's once again,

Appears upon the moon;

His long-departed father's form,

Become a child's again,

Spreads 'cross the Milky Way

In glimpses through the willow-trees

The river, pale in the night,

And fields beyond, with rising smoke

The faint sound of a flute,

The traveller's breast does reach.

The valley-songs that ring from home

Are heard, cut short, and heard again

Their echoes from the sky combine

With groans from under earth

And blend in music deep

The mother of the traveller

Has lodged within him now

And to him in his youth, too, is

His father now descent.

And of the flute of hazy fields

One faint strain now remains

The traveller is singing still

Returning to his days of youth

Smiling, he is singing yet





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Child of Anori


A village of small houses

Built against a rough, stone wall,

Whelre hearts and minds echo together as one.

A single child, knowing no fear,

Smiles as he faces the vast, open sea



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I've traveled so much that my dress is worn out

My dress that the cold penetrates

Far, so far from home

The sky is clear tonight, but

How my heart aches


(English version: Z. DE MEESTER)


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Just because he said

"In a moment I will come",

I've awaited him

Until the moon of daybreak,

In the long month, has appeared.



Moonlight and Sunlight


Moonlight speaks—

I saw the First Princess,

white as the hour before dawn,

standing upon the tower steps,

playing her ancient blue flute

deep into the night.

Sunlight speaks—

I saw the Second Princess,

perfumed with fragrant wood,

bathing in milk-white waters

beside the rail of a boat.

Her flower-like body shone,

and all the earth rang

with the happiness of heaven;

above her,

a rainbow opened.


Moonlight speaks—

I saw the First Princess

adrift upon the lake

in a boat no larger than a leaf,

wandering beneath the mist.

Her long hair,

her beautiful body,

were loosened and tangled

by the wind.


Sunlight speaks—

I saw the Second Princess

reflected in a pillar of polished gold.

A proud bird swept its tail;

the wind rose suddenly,

and the waves broke white.

Through the palace veiled in mist

she drew her seven-foot train,

and behind her

a path of gold remained.


Moonlight speaks—

I saw the First Princess

lying white and still

beneath a rock

on the Island of Death.

No flowers bloomed beside her.

Only her body remained,

cold beneath the moon.


Sunlight speaks—

I saw the Second Princess.

A prince came through the grass

beneath the castle walls,

seeking a bride.

He lifted her onto his swift horse—

sparks flew beneath its hooves—

and together they rode away,

far beyond the royal gates.

And then,

so softly,

the wind of spring

began to blow.