The Romance of the Milky Way by Lafcadio Hearn

L >> Lafcadio Hearn >> The Romance of the Milky Way

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

[Footnote 5: For a translation and explanation of this song, see
_infra_, page 30.]

The ceremonies at the Imperial Court were of the most elaborate
character: a full account of them is given in the _K[=o]ji
Kongen_,--with explanatory illustrations. On the evening of the
seventh day of the seventh month, mattings were laid down on the east
side of that portion of the Imperial Palace called the Seir-y[=o]den;
and upon these mattings were placed four tables of offerings to the
Star-deities. Besides the customary food-offerings, there were placed
upon these tables rice-wine, incense, vases of red lacquer containing
flowers, a harp and flute, and a needle with five eyes, threaded
with threads of five different colors. Black-lacquered oil-lamps were
placed beside the tables, to illuminate the feast. In another part of
the grounds a tub of water was so placed as to reflect the light of
the Tanabata-stars; and the ladies of the Imperial Household attempted
to thread a needle by the reflection. She who succeeded was to be
fortunate during the following year. The court-nobility (_Kug['e]_)
were obliged to make certain offerings to the Imperial House on the
day of the festival. The character of these offerings, and the manner
of their presentation, were fixed by decree. They were conveyed to
the palace upon a tray, by a veiled lady of rank, in ceremonial
dress. Above her, as she walked, a great red umbrella was borne by
an attendant. On the tray were placed seven _tanzaku_ (longilateral
slips of fine tinted paper for the writing of poems); seven
_kudzu_-leaves;[6] seven inkstones; seven strings of _s[=o]men_
(a kind of vermicelli); fourteen writing-brushes; and a bunch of
yam-leaves gathered at night, and thickly sprinkled with dew. In the
palace grounds the ceremony began at the Hour of the Tiger,--4 A.M.
Then the inkstones were carefully washed,--prior to preparing the ink
for the writing of poems in praise of the Star-deities,--and each one
set upon a _kudzu_-leaf. One bunch of bedewed yam-leaves was then
laid upon every inkstone; and with this dew, instead of water, the
writing-ink was prepared. All the ceremonies appear to have been
copied from those in vogue at the Chinese court in the time of the
Emperor Ming-Hwang.

[Footnote 6: _Pueraria Thunbergiana._]

* * * * *

It was not until the time of the Tokugawa Sh[=o]gunate that the
Tanabata festival became really a national holiday; and the popular
custom of attaching _tansaku_ of different colors to freshly-cut
bamboos, in celebration of the occasion, dates only from the era
of Bunser (1818). Previously the _tanzaku_ had been made of a very
costly quality of paper; and the old aristocratic ceremonies had been
not less expensive than elaborate. But in the time of the Tokugawa
Sh[=o]gunate a very cheap paper of various colors was manufactured;
and the holiday ceremonies were suffered to assume an inexpensive
form, in which even the poorest classes could indulge.

The popular customs relating to the festival differed according to
locality. Those of Izumo--where all classes of society, _samurai_ or
common folk, celebrated the holiday in much the same way--used to be
particularly interesting; and a brief account of them will suggest
something of the happy aspects of life in feudal times. At the Hour
of the Tiger, on the seventh night of the seventh month, everybody
was up; and the work of washing the inkstones and writing-brushes
was performed. Then, in the household garden, dew was collected upon
yam-leaves. This dew was called _Amanogawa no suzuki_ ("drops from the
River of Heaven"); and it was used to make fresh ink for writing the
poems which were to be suspended to bamboos planted in the garden. It
was usual for friends to present each other with new inkstones at the
time of the Tanabata festival; and if there were any new inkstones
in the house, the fresh ink was prepared in these. Each member of
the family then wrote poems. The adults composed verses, according
to their ability, in praise of the Star-deities; and the children
either wrote dictation or tried to improvise. Little folk too young
to use the writing-brush without help had their small hands guided,
by parent or elder sister or elder brother, so as to shape on a
_tanzaku_ the character of some single word or phrase relating to
the festival,--such as "Amanogawa," or "Tanabata," or "Kasasagi
no Hashi" (the Bridge of Magpies). In the garden were planted two
freshly-cut bamboos, with branches and leaves entire,--a male bamboo
(_otoko-dak['e]_) and a female bamboo (_onna-dak['e]_). They were
set up about six feet apart, and to a cord extended between them were
suspended paper-cuttings of five colors, and skeins of dyed thread of
five colors. The paper-cuttings represented upper-robes,--_kimono_.
To the leaves and branches of the bamboos were tied the _tanzaku_
on which poems had been written by the members of the family.
And upon a table, set between the bamboos, or immediately before
them, were placed vessels containing various offerings to the
Star-deities,--fruits, _s[=o]men_, rice-wine, and vegetables of
different kinds, such as cucumbers and watermelons.

But the most curious Izumo custom relating to the festival was the
_N['e]mu-nagashi_, or "Sleep-wash-away" ceremony. Before day-break
the young folks used to go to some stream, carrying with them bunches
composed of _n['e]muri_-leaves and bean-leaves mixed together. On
reaching the stream, they would fling their bunches of leaves into the
current, and sing a little song:--

N['e]mu wa, nagar['e] yo!
Mam['e] no ha wa, tomar['e]!

These verses might be rendered in two ways; because the word _n['e]mu_
can be taken in the meaning either of _n['e]muri_ (sleep), or of
_nemuri-gi_ or _n['e]munoki_, the "sleep-plant" (mimosa),--while the
syllables _mam['e]_, as written in _kana_, can signify either "bean,"
or "activity," or "strength," "vigor," "health," etc. But the ceremony
was symbolical, and the intended meaning of the song was:--

Drowsiness, drift away!
Leaves of vigor, remain!

After this, all the young folk would jump into the water, to bathe or
swim, in token of their resolve to shed all laziness for the coming
year, and to maintain a vigorous spirit of endeavor.

* * * * *

Yet it was probably in Y['e]do (now T[=o]ky[=o]) that the Tanabata
festival assumed its most picturesque aspects. During the two days
that the celebration lasted,--the sixth and seventh of the seventh
month,--the city used to present the appearance of one vast bamboo
grove; fresh bamboos, with poems attached to them, being erected upon
the roofs of the houses. Peasants were in those days able to do a
great business in bamboos, which were brought into town by hundreds
of wagonloads for holiday use. Another feature of the Y['e]do festival
was the children's procession, in which bamboos, with poems attached
to them, were carried about the city. To each such bamboo there
was also fastened a red plaque on which were painted, in Chinese
characters, the names of the Tanabata stars.

But almost everywhere, under the Tokugawa r['e]gime, the Tanabata
festival used to be a merry holiday for the young people of all
classes,--a holiday beginning with lantern displays before sunrise,
and lasting well into the following night. Boys and girls on that day
were dressed in their best, and paid visits of ceremony to friends and
neighbors.

* * * * *

--The moon of the seventh month used to be called _Tanabata-tsuki_, or
"The Moon of Tanabata." And it was also called _Fumi-tsuki_, or "The
Literary Moon," because during the seventh month poems were everywhere
composed in praise of the Celestial Lovers.

* * * * *

I think that my readers ought to be interested in the following
selection of ancient Japanese poems, treating of the Tanabata legend.
All are from the _Many[=o]sh[=u]_. The _Many[=o]sh[=u]_, or "Gathering
of a Myriad Leaves," is a vast collection of poems composed before the
middle of the eighth century. It was compiled by Imperial order, and
completed early in the ninth century. The number of the poems which
it contains is upwards of four thousand; some being "long poems"
(_naga-uta_), but the great majority _tanka_, or compositions limited
to thirty-one syllables; and the authors were courtiers or high
officials. The first eleven _tanka_ hereafter translated were composed
by Yamagami no Okura, Governor of the province of Chikuzen more than
eleven hundred years ago. His fame as a poet is well deserved; for
not a little of his work will bear comparison with some of the finer
epigrams of the Greek Anthology. The following verses, upon the death
of his little son Furubi, will serve as an example:--

Wakaker['e]ba
Nichi-yuki shiraji:
Mahi wa s['e]mu,
Shitab['e] no tsukahi
Ohit['e]-tohoras['e].

--[_As he is so young, he cannot know the way.... To the
messenger of the Underworld I will give a bribe, and entreat
him, saying: "Do thou kindly take the little one upon thy back
along the road."_]

Eight hundred years earlier, the Greek poet Diodorus Zonas of Sardis
had written:--

"_Do thou, who rowest the boat of the dead in the water
of this reedy lake, for Hades, stretch out thy hand, dark
Charon, to the son of Kinyras, as he mounts the ladder by the
gang-way, and receive him. For his sandals will cause the lad
to slip, and he fears to set his feet naked on the sand of the
shore._"

But the charming epigram of Diodorus was inspired only by a myth,--for
the "son of Kinyras" was no other than Adonis,--whereas the verses of
Okura express for us the yearning of a father's heart.

* * * * *

--Though the legend of Tanabata was indeed borrowed from China, the
reader will find nothing Chinese in the following compositions.
They represent the old classic poetry at its purest, free from alien
influence; and they offer us many suggestions as to the condition of
Japanese life and thought twelve hundred years ago. Remembering that
they were written before any modern European literature had yet taken
form, one is startled to find how little the Japanese written language
has changed in the course of so many centuries. Allowing for a few
obsolete words, and sundry slight changes of pronunciation, the
ordinary Japanese reader to-day can enjoy these early productions of
his native muse with about as little difficulty as the English reader
finds in studying the poets of the Elizabethan era. Moreover, the
refinement and the simple charm of the _Many[=o]sh[=u]_ compositions
have never been surpassed, and seldom equaled, by later Japanese
poets.

As for the forty-odd _tanka_ which I have translated, their chief
attraction lies, I think, in what they reveal to us of the human
nature of their authors. Tanabata-tsum['e] still represents for us
the Japanese wife, worshipfully loving;--Hikoboshi appears to us with
none of the luminosity of the god, but as the young Japanese husband
of the sixth or seventh century, before Chinese ethical convention
had begun to exercise its restraint upon life and literature. Also
these poems interest us by their expression of the early feeling for
natural beauty. In them we find the scenery and the seasons of Japan
transported to the Blue Plain of High Heaven;--the Celestial Stream
with its rapids and shallows, its sudden risings and clamourings
within its stony bed, and its water-grasses bending in the autumn
wind, might well be the Kamogawa;--and the mists that haunt its shores
are the very mists of Arashiyama. The boat of Hikoboshi, impelled by
a single oar working upon a wooden peg, is not yet obsolete; and at
many a country ferry you may still see the _hiki-fun['e]_ in which
Tanabata-tsum['e] prayed her husband to cross in a night of storm,--a
flat broad barge pulled over the river by cables. And maids and wives
still sit at their doors in country villages, on pleasant autumn days,
to weave as Tanabata-tsum['e] wove for the sake of her lord and lover.

* * * * *

--It will be observed that, in most of these verses, it is not the
wife who dutifully crosses the Celestial River to meet her husband,
but the husband who rows over the stream to meet the wife; and there
is no reference to the Bridge of Birds.... As for my renderings, those
readers who know by experience the difficulty of translating Japanese
verse will be the most indulgent, I fancy. The Romaji system of
spelling has been followed (except in one or two cases where I thought
it better to indicate the ancient syllabication after the method
adopted by Aston); and words or phrases necessarily supplied have been
inclosed in parentheses.

Amanogawa
Ai-muki tachit['e],
Waga ko[:i]shi
Kimi kimasu nari
Himo-toki mak['e]na!

[_He is coming, my long-desired lord, whom I have been waiting
to meet here, on the banks of the River of Heaven.... The
moment of loosening my girdle is nigh!_[7]]

[Footnote 7: The last line alludes to a charming custom of which
mention is made in the most ancient Japanese literature. Lovers,
ere parting, were wont to tie each other's inner girdle (_himo_) and
pledge themselves to leave the knot untouched until the time of their
next meeting. This poem is said to have been composed in the seventh
year of Y[=o]r[=o],--A.D. 723,--eleven hundred and eighty-two years
ago.]

Hisakata no[8]
Ama no kawas['e] ni,
Fun['e] uk['e]t['e],
Koyo[:i] ka kimi ga
Agari kimasan?

[Footnote 8: _Hisakata-no_ is a "pillow-word" used by the old poets in
relation to celestial objects; and it is often difficult to translate.
Mr. Aston thinks that the literal meaning of _hisakata_ is simply
"long-hard," in the sense of long-enduring,--_hisa_ (long), _katai_
(hard, or firm),--so that _hisakata-no_ would have the meaning of
"firmamental." Japanese commentators, however, say that the term
is composed with the three words, _hi_ (sun), _sasu_ (shine), and
_kata_ (side);--and this etymology would justify the rendering
of _hisakata-no_ by some such expression as "light-shedding,"
"radiance-giving." On the subject of pillow-words, see Aston's
_Grammar of the Japanese Written Language_.]

[_Over the Rapids of the Everlasting Heaven, floating in his
boat, my lord will doubtless deign to come to me this very
night._]

Kaz['e] kumo wa
Futatsu no kishi ni
Kayo[:e]domo,
Waga toho-tsuma no
Koto zo kayowanu!

[_Though winds and clouds to either bank may freely come or
go, between myself and my faraway spouse no message whatever
may pass._]

Tsubut['e][9] ni mo
Nag['e] koshitsu-b['e]ki,
Amanogawa
H['e]dat['e]r['e]ba ka mo,
Amata sub['e]-naki!

[_To the opposite bank one might easily fling a pebble; yet,
being separated from him by the River of Heaven, alas! to hope
for a meeting (except in autumn) is utterly useless._]

[Footnote 9: The old text has _tabut['e]_.]

Aki-kaz['e] no
Fukinishi hi yori
"Itsushika" to--;
Waga machi ko[^i]shi
Kimi zo kimas['e]ru.

[_From the day that the autumn wind began to blow (I kept
saying to myself), "Ah! when shall we meet?"--but now my
beloved, for whom I waited and longed, has come indeed!_]

Amanogawa
Ito kawa-nami wa
Tatan['e]domo,
Samorai gatashi--
Chikaki kono s['e] wo.

[_Though the waters of the River of Heaven have not greatly
risen, (yet to cross) this near stream and to wait upon (my
lord and lover) remains impossible._]

Sod['e] furaba
Mi mo kawashitsu-b['e]ku
Chika-ker['e]do,
Wataru sub['e] nashi,
Aki nishi aran['e]ba.

[_Though she is so near that the waving of her (long) sleeves
can be distinctly seen, yet there is no way to cross the
stream before the season of autumn._]

Kag['e]ro[:i] no
Honoka ni mi['e]t['e]
Wakar['e]naba;--
Motonaya ko[:i]n
A[:u]-toki mad['e] wa!

[_When we were separated, I had seen her for a moment
only,--and dimly as one sees a flying midge;[10] now I
must vainly long for her as before, until time of our next
meeting!_]

Hikoboshi no
Tsuma muka[:e]-bun['e]
Kogizurashi,--
Ama-no-Kawara ni
Kiri no tat['e]ru wa.

[Footnote 10: _Kag['e]ro[:i]_ is an obsolete form of _kag['e]r[=o]_,
meaning an ephemera.]

[_Methinks that Hikoboshi must be rowing his boat to meet his
wife,--for a mist (as of oar-spray) is rising over the course
of the Heavenly Stream._]

Kasumi tatsu
Ama-no-Kawara ni,
Kimi matsu to,--
Ikay[=o] hodo ni
Mono-suso nurenu.

[_While awaiting my lord on the misty shore of the River of
Heaven, the skirts of my robe have somehow become wet._]

Amanogawa,
Mi-tsu no nami oto
Sawagu-nari:
Waga matsu-kimi no
Funad['e]-surashi mo.

[_On the River of Heaven, at the place of the august
ferry, the sound of the water has become loud: perhaps my
long-awaited lord will soon be coming in his boat._]

Tanabata no
Sod['e] maku yo[:i] no
Akatoki wa,
Kawas['e] no tazu wa
Nakazu to mo yoshi.

[_As Tanabata (slumbers) with her long sleeves rolled up,
until the reddening of the dawn, do not, O storks of the
river-shallows, awaken her by your cries._[11]]

[Footnote 11: Lit., "not to cry out (will be) good"--but a literal
translation of the poem is scarcely possible.]

Amanogawa
Kiri-tachi-wataru:
Ky[=o], ky[=o], to--
Waga matsu-ko[:i]shi
Funad['e]-surashi!

[_(She sees that) a mist is spreading across the River of
Heaven.... "To-day, to-day," she thinks, "my long-awaited lord
will probably come over in his boat."_]

Amanogawa,
Yasu no watari ni,
Fun['e] uk['e]t['e];--
Waga tachi-matsu to
Imo ni tsug['e] koso.

[_By the ferry of Yasu, on the River of Heaven, the boat is
floating: I pray you tell my younger sister[12] that I stand
here and wait._]

[Footnote 12: That is to say, "wife." In archaic Japanese the word
_imo_ signified both "wife" and "younger sister." The term might also
be rendered "darling" or "beloved."]

[=O]-sora yo
Kay[=o] war['e] sura,
Na ga yu['e] ni,
Amanokawa-ji no
Nazumit['e] zo koshi.

[_Though I (being a Star-god) can pass freely to and fro,
through the great sky,--yet to cross over the River of Heaven,
for your sake, was weary work indeed!_]

Yachihoko no
Kami no mi-yo yori
Tomoshi-zuma;--
Hito-shiri ni keri
Tsugit['e]shi omo[:e]ba.

[_From the august Age of the
God-of-Eight-Thousand-Spears_,[13] _she had been my spouse in
secret_[14] _only; yet now, because of my constant longing for
her, our relation has become known to men._]

[Footnote 13: Yachihoko-no-Kami, who has many other names, is
the Great God of Izumo, and is commonly known by his appellation
Oho-kuni-nushi-no-Kami, or the "Deity-Master-of-the Great-Land." He
is locally worshiped also as the god of marriage,--for which reason,
perhaps, the poet thus refers to him.]

[Footnote 14: Or, "my seldom-visited spouse." The word _tsuma_
(_zuma_), in ancient Japanese, signified either wife or husband; and
this poem might be rendered so as to express either the wife's or the
husband's thoughts.]

Am['e] tsuchi to
Wakar['e]shi toki yo
Onoga tsuma;
Shika zo t['e] ni aru
Aki matsu ar['e] wa.

[_From the time when heaven and earth were parted, she has
been my own wife;--yet, to be with her, I must always wait
till autumn._[15]]

[Footnote 15: By the ancient calendar, the seventh day of the seventh
month would fall in the autumn season.]

Waga k[=o]ru
Niho no omo wa
Koyo[:i] mo ka
Ama-no-kawara ni
Ishi-makura makan.

[_With my beloved, of the ruddy-tinted cheeks_,[16] _this
night indeed will I descend into the bed of the River of
Heaven, to sleep on a pillow of stone._]

[Footnote 16: The literal meaning is "_b['e]ni_-tinted face,"--that
is to say, a face of which the cheeks and lips have been tinted with
_b['e]ni_, a kind of rouge.]

Amanogawa.
Mikomori-gusa no
Aki-kaz['e] ni
Nabikafu mir['e]ba,
Toki kitarurashi.

[_When I see the water-grasses of the River of Heaven bend
in the autumn wind (I think to myself): "The time (for our
meeting) seems to have come."_]

Waga s['e]ko ni
Ura-koi or['e]ba,
Amanogawa
Yo-fun['e] kogi-toyomu
Kaji no 'to kikoyu.

[_When I feel in my heart a sudden longing for my
husband_,[17] _then on the River of Heaven the sound of the
rowing of the night-boat is heard, and the plash of the oar
resounds._]

[Footnote 17: In ancient Japanese the word _s['e]ko_ signified either
husband or elder brother. The beginning of the poem might also be
rendered thus:--"When I feel a secret longing for my husband," etc.]

T[=o]-zuma to
Tamakura kawashi
N['e]taru yo wa,
Tori-gan['e] na naki
Ak['e]ba aku to mo!

[_In the night when I am reposing with my (now) far-away
spouse, having exchanged jewel-pillows_[18] _with her, let not
the cock crow, even though the day should dawn._]

[Footnote 18: "To exchange jewel-pillows" signifies to use each
other's arms for pillows. This poetical phrase is often used in
the earliest Japanese literature. The word for jewel, _tama_, often
appears in compounds as an equivalent of "precious," "dear," etc.]

Yorozu-yo ni
Tazusawari it['e]
Ai mi-domo,
Omoi-sugu-b['e]ki
Koi naranaku ni.

[_Though for a myriad ages we should remain hand-in-hand and
face to face, our exceeding love could never come to an end.
(Why then should Heaven deem it necessary to part us?)_]

Waga tam['e] to,
Tanabata-tsum['e] no,
Sono yado ni,
Oreru shirotai
Nu[:i]t ken kamo?

[_The white cloth which Tanabata has woven for my sake, in
that dwelling of hers, is now, I think, being made into a robe
for me._]

Shirakumo no
I-ho ['e] kakurit['e]
T[=o]-k['e]domo,
Yo[:i]-sarazu min
Imo ga atari wa.

[_Though she be far-away, and hidden from me by five hundred
layers of white cloud, still shall I turn my gaze each night
toward the dwelling-place of my younger sister (wife)._]

Aki sar['e]ba
Kawagiri tat['e]ru
Amanogawa,
Kawa ni muki-it['e]
Kru[19] yo zo [=o]ki!

[Footnote 19: For _kofuru_.]

[_When autumn comes, and the river-mists spread over the
Heavenly Stream, I turn toward the river, (and long); and the
nights of my longing are many!_]

Hito-tos['e] ni
Nanuka no yo nomi
A[:u]-hito no--
Ko[:i] mo tsuki-n['e]ba
Sayo zo ak['e] ni keru!

[_But once in the whole year, and only upon the seventh night
(of the seventh month), to meet the beloved person--and
lo! The day has dawned before our mutual love could express
itself!_[20]]

[Footnote 20: Or "satisfy itself." A literal rendering is difficult.]

Toshi no ko[:i]
Koyo[:i] tsukush['i]t['e],
Asu yori wa,
Tsun['e] no gotoku ya
Waga ko[:i] oran.

[_The love-longing of one whole year having ended to-night,
every day from to-morrow I must again pine for him as
before!_]

Hikoboshi to
Tanabata-tsum['e] to
Koyo[:i] a[:u];--
Ama-no-Kawa to ni
Nami tatsu-na yum['e]!

[_Hikoboshi and Tanabata-tsum['e] are to meet each other
to-night;--ye waves of the River of Heaven, take heed that ye
do not rise!_]

Aki-kaz['e] no
Fuki tadayowasu
Shirakumo wa,
Tanabata-tsum['e] no
Amatsu hir['e] kamo?

[_Oh! that white cloud driven by the autumn-wind--can it be
the heavenly hir['e][21] of Tana-bata-tsum['e]?_]

[Footnote 21: At different times, in the history of Japanese female
costume, different articles of dress were called by this name. In
the present instance, the _hir['e]_ referred to was probably a white
scarf, worn about the neck and carried over the shoulders to the
breast, where its ends were either allowed to hang loose, or were
tied into an ornamental knot. The _hir['e]_ was often used to make
signals with, much as handkerchiefs are waved to-day for the same
purpose;--and the question uttered in the poem seems to signify: "Can
that be Tanabata waving her scarf--to call me?" In very early times,
the ordinary costumes worn were white.]

Shiba-shiba mo
Ai minu kimi wo,
Amanogawa
Funa-d['e] haya s['e]yo
Yo no fuk['e]nu ma ni.

[_Because he is my not-often-to-be-met beloved, hasten to
row the boat across the River of Heaven ere the night be
advanced._]

Amanogawa
Kiri tachi-watari
Hikoboshi no
Kaji no 'to kikoyu
Yo no fuk['e]-yuk['e]ba.

[_Late in the night, a mist spreads over_] _the River of
Heaven; and the sound of the oar[22] of Hikoboshi is heard._]

[Footnote 22: Or, "the creaking of the oar." (The word _kaji_ to-day
means "helm";--the single oar, or scull, working upon a pivot, and
serving at once for rudder and oar, being now called _ro_.) The mist
passing across the Amanogawa is, according to commentators, the spray
from the Star-god's oar.]

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8