ABUTSU - UTATANE - FITFUL SLUMBERS

I'm sure it did no good  to think back about our affair so incessantly. [26] Yet waiting for the moonlight that I had made my friend on sleepless nights, I slid open the door as usual and gazed out.  But the lonely scene of the dew in the now desolate autumn garden and the doleful sound of insects only seemed to renew my sorrow. I held back bitter tears and considered for a while what had happened and what would become of  me.  I felt nothing but resentment as I thought obsessively about the wretched, meaningless affair.

After our first night together,  a night that then seemed more a dream than reality,[27] he often  didn't even bother to wait for the night watchman to doze off.[28] And so I expected an unbroken string of  nights dreaming with him. It wasn't that I hadn't already learned that a man's inconstancy is like the easily fading dye made from the dayflower, but my heart had gone out to his, and his had dyed into mine. It was a time of careless and unfortunate confusion.  Just as in the poem  'I expected it',[29] I didn't realize how painful losing him could be.

The trees had begun to turn color, and my heart felt sad in the cold autumn wind. Even on nights when he asked me to wait for him, it wasn't now like it had been before.  I lay in bed,  acutely aware of  the striking of  the bell that marked the passing hours, feeling as if I were dead. It was then that I learned the pain of waiting through the night described in the poem,  'If he does not come.'[30] Although  our secret meetings hadn't  ended completely,  they were
now different from before.  Even though various things were coming between us, I didn't recognize the change right away. Such, I suppose, are the ways of an affair.

It was soon the Tenth Month,  that desultory time of year when it rains off and on uncertainly.[31]  All the more reason that my sleeves had no time to dry. I fretted obsessively day and night, worrying that he might never visit me again. The number of days between his calls exceeded even what I had grown to accept, and no words can adequately describe the sadness of that miserable time when I first realized that our relationship had come to this pass.

I was feeling thoroughly  oppressed and wretched, and perhaps because of this I suddenly decided to pay homage at Uzumasa.[32] I knew my state of mind was extreme, and so  was ashamed what the Lord Buddha might think,  but from a very early age I had made such visits as I had a deep faith in him. I wanted to be allowed to tell him of the distress in my heart, and so I prayed there for a while.

Soon  I was told  by my companions  that it was going to rain and, as they were pressing to return without delay, we left the temple sooner than I would have wished.  Still, I couldn't  pass by Hokongo-in,  where the autumn maple trees were at their best and looked  most  delightful.  I alighted from my carriage, sat on a rock by the side of the temple's fence, and gazed toward the hills where the trees displayed various shades of autumn colors. The deep red leaves of the ivy [33]  hanging from the pines stood out conspicuously.  Probably because there were so many fine sights to gaze at, I gradually began to forget thoughts of my unhappy home and was not in a hurry to leave.

A wind started to blow.  I became somehow restless and so I stopped gazing at the scenery. I composed these lines while standing there:

        hito shirezu                   0  stormy  wind-
        chigirishi  naka no               I did   not ask you
        koto no ha wo               to scatter  the leaves
        arashi  fuke to wa               of secret  promises
        omowazarishi  wo               between my lover and myself.

But even now,  I thought only of him. [34]

Despite this trip, I was still unhappy. I was taking a short rest when an atten- dant brought in a letter from him and I opened it with excitement. He wrote that the recent weather had moved him,  and apologized  for his silence. The flow of his brush was strong yet sensitive, and very splendid. My feelings were, as usual, in complete disarray, and so in my reply I could not tell where one word ended and the next began. Afterward I felt anxious, wondering whether I had written it at all well.
Forgetting my recent bitterness, I stared at his letter. Then I worried that
others might think me fickle, and hid it away.

            kore ya sa  wa           So, must this be
            tou ni tsurasa no           'the bitterness of inquiry'? [35]
            kazukazu ni               Tracings from his brush
            namida wo souru           that add tears
            mizukuki no ato           to these tears.

The secret way he always took to come to my house was not long, but he did not arrive until late: it was as if he had come merely to keep his promise. Still, I was so happy that I felt I was in a dream from which I need never awake. Inexplicable tears overcame me, and I was not able to share my feelings with him.

At dawn the nearby bell sounded as if tolling the end of my life,  and I was beside myself as he rose from the bed to leave. My sleeves were wet with dew, and I felt even greater resentment than before.  Like any careful lover, he slipped stealthily out along the path from which I fancied he had perhaps never come. [36] I could not help feeling it had been but a dream.

For some months Mumekita no Kata [37]  had been ill at his place, and one day she finally passed away. I thought that it was perhaps because of the events surrounding her death that his visits became less frequent. Still, it hurt me that he now broke promises even more often than before.  I wanted to show him my sympathy and let him know I understood how upset he must be, grieving as he was for someone whom he had genuinely loved. I was not less feeling than the others, but I was in no position  to send a message to his place. [38]

The gloomy  days passed without the comfort of his letters. Then suddenly he wrote, 'I want to meet with you and talk about this heartless world and the emotions I am feeling.'  So when I heard the bell sounding the hour at which I usually retired, I lay down  with confidence in his secret promise.  As  I considered my present circumstances, I felt a distaste for the person I had become. What  would  be  the  future  of  someone  so  unreliable  as myself?  I  became
depressed while  imagining  my  future.  If  I  had  only  stayed the  way  I was before, I would not have made these mistakes and I could have passed my days without coming to this. The pain grew to the point that I no longer looked forward to passing the night with him. I lay awake with these many thoughts on my mind, and when he did not arrive at the usual hour I thought about what might happen next.

Then, while I was lying there restlessly with my eyes open, I heard a hushed knock like that of a small child, [39] and my calmness deserted me at once. I went quietly out to the garden, chagrined at my lack of composure. The moon was quite bright and, worried lest I might be noticed,  I hid behind the fence. My lover approached and teased me with the lines, 'Though I should say you don't resemble "the gentleman who followed  after me.  . ." ', and on hearing this, I too thought of Genji and the scene at Hitachi's royal residence. [40]  I felt that my lover was indeed as fine as the Genji who had composed at that time the poem 'It sheds its rays'.  Afterward I often recalled that night and felt embarrassed   [41] when I thought that he might be remembering it, too.

On a wintry night in the Twelfth Month, the sky was heavy with snow and I went around early closing the shutters. It grew quite late as I idly chatted with a few others. Everyone went to bed, but I wasn't able to sleep, so I quietly arose, slipped from the room,  and looked  out on the night. It had stopped snowing sometime before and the moon, no longer hidden, was now shining among drifting clouds, its glow faintly outlining the rims of the nearby hills. It was a waxing,  quarter moon.  I recalled that the time I last saw him was under such a moon  and I relived that night as if  I were again with the man whose  face I could not now even clearly remember. Soon the moonlight  became obscured by my tears. I felt as if the Lord Buddha was there before me, and I was at once both ashamed and encouraged. [42]

As the days passed, I could bear it no longer for my heart seemed to becoming only more weary. Finally I realized that it would be easy to do once I had made a firm decision,[43] and I resolved to ask for the tonsure. The thought that this might have something to do with the other day's dream made me happy. But even when I tried, I could not tell myself I must stop thinking about him, and so my sadness persisted. [44]

One beautiful  spring day, while I was getting rid of  scraps of  my writings that had somehow accumulated, I took out his letters and read through them. From the first appearance of the plum blossoms  until the winter grasses had completely withered, how many sad and trying times had there been! I grew emotional as my eyes passed over the many pages where he so clearly professed his love for me.

I was thinking about when I might have written a certain passage and was wondering whether it had captured his attention more than usual [45] when her ladyship [46] came in and asked me to stay the night as she was lonely and ill at ease, and so I did not return to my own room. It was a nuisance, but I worried that I might reveal my secret plans if I did not comply, so I lay down and said nothing of my thoughts.

When everyone was fast  asleep,  I slipped quietly out  of  the room.  I was afraid of waking the others, for the lamp still glowed palely and my room was separated from  theirs by  only  a sliding door.  I felt  happy when my hands found in the dimness the scissors and box lid I had prepared that day. Yet, as may be imagined, I could not help feeling anxious as I gathered my hair in my hand.

I trimmed it off, placed the strands in the lid of the box, and arranged the accompanying letters I had written earlier. The light coming through the doorway shone faintly as I put the uncovered inkstone that was at my side in front of me-the  one I had used that day to write the many farewell letters. Along the edge of the sheet of thick Michinokuni paper [47]  that I would wrap around my hair, I wrote just something that came to mind. The light shining from the other room was so faint that I couldn't even see where the brush touched the paper's surface:

            nageki tsutsu               Even if I threw  this lamenting  body
            mi wo hayaki  se no       into the fast current's  waters,
            soko to dani               into unfathomable  depths,
            shirazu  mayowamu       my soul would wander  still,
            ato zo kanashiki           bearing  my sadness.

I wonder whether at that moment I was thinking of drowning myself in the
river.

I wanted to leave right away and quietly slid open the door. The month was nearly at an end, so there was no moon.  Rain clouds were gathering and made everything frighteningly dark. It was already late. When the night guardsmen ceremoniously called out to one another, I worried someone might catch sight of me, so I lay down in the room as before, yet no one nearby so much as stirred.

For a long time the guardsman had been accustomed to open the gate and leave during the middle of the night, but now, as I was waiting secretly for that moment,  I heard the gate sounding and the guardsman leaving quite early. I slipped outside,  but could not  remember clearly the way to  my destination. [48] The place where I had been staying was itself outside the capital, at the foot of the Northern Hills, and few people would see me here. As I was walk- ing under the cover of  the trees, I wondered what it was going to be like to travel alone along these hill paths that lay dreamlike in front of me. I became quite frightened when I thought of the great risk I was taking. I avoided the gaze of the local people and walked along in a distracted state. It was hard to believe that this was really happening.

My destination was near the foot  of the Western Hills and they were some distance away.  It began to  rain in the middle of  the night and by dawn my kimono was soaked through. There had been nothing to obstruct the view be- tween my home and Saga, [49] so I managed to arrive that far without mishap.

It gradually became light. People  on the road began to look  at me closely, and I felt a greater trepidation than ever before.  But, determined to reach my goal,  I trusted in the progress of my feet. Although  practically dead with exhaustion, I did not stop to rest for I wanted to advance farther into the hills as soon as possible.

As I approached the foothills that lead up to Mt Arashi, the rain came down even harder, while ahead the clouds were so piled up that I couldn't make out my destination.  I managed to reach Horinji, but then lost my way on the path and had no idea what to do.

I did not especially value my life, but now I was overcome with suffering and despair. Tears blurred my vision of the dark rain. I couldn't  see either from where I had come nor where I was headed. I cannot adequately express how I felt and I thought that my life must be nearing its end. Meanwhile, the rain soaked me to the skin and I was wetter than the Ise fishermen. [50]

After wandering so far, I was taking shelter from the wind under a sturdy pine when there approached a woman wearing a straw raincoat and carrying an umbrella. She too  was probably coming from the capital. She was talking with a child who spoke in the same manner, [51] and I fancied they might be from Katsura.

The two  came toward me.  The woman asked in a chatty tone,  'And who might you be? You look so sad, dear. Are you running away from someone? Did you have a quarrel? What are you doing here in these hills getting yourself soaked  in  the  rain? Where did you  come  from  and where are you  going? You're  quite a sight,  you  know.'  She clacked her tongue  several times and repeated again how pitiful I looked.  Her sympathy warmed my heart.

As she did not stop asking me about myself, I finally said, 'I'm not at odds with anyone, and I haven't had a quarrel. I just have something I want to do in a place here in these mountains.  I started out late last night, but it was raining so hard I lost  the way.  I can't  remember how  I got here and I don't  know which way I should be going,  either. I've stopped at this spot,  feeling as if it might  be  all  over  with  me.  If  it's  not  too  much  trouble,  I wonder  if  you
wouldn't  mind showing me the right direction?'

At this, the woman took even more pity on me. I was so happy and grateful for her deep compassion  that,  when she took  my hand and led me along,  I wondered whether I was being guided by the Lord Buddha himself.  After a time we reached the convent,  and the woman and child went on their way.

I think my unusual appearance distressed even many of the nuns who received me, but they were no less compassionate than the woman from Katsura and tended to my every need. While I had clung to consciousness in the hills, now that I was able to rest I completely collapsed and lay weakly in bed, unable to raise myself even a little.

Friends from the capital somehow learned of my whereabouts and came to visit, and made a nuisance of themselves for three days. But since I had been able to receive the tonsure and come to this temple-things  I had wanted to do with all my heart-I  felt contented about everything and could think happily even about my sorrows.

As I looked around the precincts, I thought how fortunate it was that such a sacred place existed in this world so filled with unhappiness. The nuns conducted their religious services devoutly  and without  fail made offerings day and night. I listened to the sound of the senure [i52]  and so on around me and felt a chill at heart when I considered what might become  of  someone  such as myself, who had piled up so many sins over the years, if she ended her days in this world without  coming to  such a place.  The autumn wind that filled my garden back home with sorrow blew here through the hilltop pines in harmony with the chanting of the Lotus  Sutra. The moonlight  I had gazed upon as I waited longingly for my lover to appear at the gate became here a guide to lead my heart far away to the clouds over Eagle Peak.

            sutete ideshi               Although here is the moon of Eagle Peak
            washi  no mi-yama  no       where  Buddha  instructed,
            tsuki narade               'Forsake  this world,'
            tare wo yonayona           it seems my love for someone
            koiwatari  kemu           night after night finds no end. [53]

I had been as unsteady as a ship floating on the waves, [54] someone drifting alone without her wits about her, and I wondered whether I had become the subject of  gossip.  Although  I was a woman sailing on quite lost in no fixed direction, there were times when I was calm enough to think of  what might become of me. Thus I believed that my state of mind was not just the ordinary suffering of  this temporary world.  Rather,  I felt  I must have been groping
along  from one  darkness into the still deeper darkness of  the long  night of doubt. [55]
The sadness was very oppressive, but the heart is its own master. Believing it might soothe my mind, with a frail brush I secretly wrote about how I could not suppress the excessive bitterness and the grief I felt when I looked  out as usual on the evening scene. But all this did was to make me weep even more. Until then I had clung to my fragile life only because from time to time he had tossed to me in an offhand way meaningless assurances that he had not forgotten me. Perhaps I had become accustomed even to a man's cruel lies.

I had grown more distant from his world than I could imagine. Although our residences were as close as Shiogama is to Chiga, I felt quite hopeless. [56]

            michinoku  no               Our letters  have ended,
            tsubo no ishibumi               and you have grown
            kakitaete                   as distant from me
            harukeki  naka to               as the inscribed  stone
            nari ni keru kana               at Michinoku  monument. [57]

After several days' rain, the evening moon shone faintly through the dispersing clouds.  It was not the hour before dawn, but I was thinking spitefully of that man who was being so cruel. [58]  Even when I closed the sliding door I could still hear the running water of the brook near the gate. It sounded louder than usual,  for probably the rain had swollen the stream. When was it that, even with the stream in flood,  he had secretly crossed the rapids to visit me? Re-
membering that time as if it were just yesterday, I wrote:

            omoiizuru               Memories  come rushing  back
            hodo ni mo nami wa       just like the waves
            sawagi keri               that churn
            uki se wo wakete           in Nakagawa's  joyless rapids
            nakagawa  no mizu       whose waters  keep us apart.59

Had it come  to  the point,  I wonder,  when even the slight rustling of  the
black bamboo  in the untended garden could upset me?

            yo   to tomo ni           I look  back through
            omoiizureba               the forest of months
            kuretake  no               and see there was no season
            urameshikaranu           not spent bitterly  staring
            sono fushi mo nashi       into these black bamboo shoots. [60]

I tried writing him a letter written in a style that would  look  casual.  He answered, 'I've been rather busy with various things and, while of course I've thought of nothing but you, there hasn't been a chance to pay a call.' His indifferent scribbles depressed me. kiehatemu   When I am gone
            keburi no nochi no               and turned to smoke,
            kumo wo dani               I doubt my clouds
            yomo  nagamejina               will earn his gaze;
            hito me moru to te           he's so concerned  what others  think.

Such were my feelings, but I kept them to myself and so they rankled in my heart. What a hopeless situation!

About that time I was so ill that I began to worry that my life might be in danger. To die at the convent would have been a burden for the nuns, so when an unexpected chance arose, I decided to leave and go to nearby Otagi, where I arranged for a simple lodging. [61] I wanted at least to let him know my plans, but writing without his first inquiring of me did not seem right. I was overcome by tears as I left the gate of the nunnery.

Just then a carriage came into view ahead of me. The attendants were clearing the people out of the way with much gusto, and they appeared so splendid that I wondered who might be in the carriage. Then I realized they were escorts of  the  man  against whom  I bore  so  much  secret resentment.  Although  he would  probably not notice  me,  still,  as I sat within my palanquin I felt unpresentable and embarrassed. The chance to  follow  him once more with my
eyes caused a mixture of joy and sadness in me. At last our ways parted, and I felt depressed and kept looking  back for him.

When  I  arrived  at  my  destination,  I  saw  that  the  place  was  truly unbearable-it  was even more disagreeable and common  than I had heard. Even the evening sky appeared gloomier and more depressing than when I was at the nunnery.  No  friends were there to  keep me company,  so  I lay down alone on the cheap bedding, uncomfortable and restless, unable to sleep soundly.

            hakanashina               Though I bind my grass  pillow
            mijikaki  yoha no           and lie down to rest,
            kusa makura               how brief these nights are,
            musubu  tomo naki       and how fleeting,  too, are
            utatane  no yume           my dreams  in fitful slumbers. [62]

The days went by, but no one came to visit and I felt downhearted. I clung to the sutra, regarding it as my only  reliable friend.  In my mind I repeated obsessively the words, 'The world is in no wise firm or secure.' [63] I depended on the efficacy of this phrase to wake me from this dreaming in a sorrowful world. And so I led a bleak existence, wondering if I might die that day or the next.

On the night of the 16th day of the Fourth Month,  I left the window blind open and sat looking out at the garden for a long time, waiting for the moon to rise. The grasses by the flimsy fence grew silver in the full moon's light and the garden filled me with sadness.

            oku tsuyu no               I await the end of my life
            inochi matsu ma no       that is as transient  as dew;
            kari no io ni               disheartening  is the moonlight
            kokorobosoku  mo           that finds its lodging
            yadoru tsukikage           in this temporary  hut.

I heard the sound of a distant flute coming from somewhere. My heart froze when I suddenly felt as if I was at his side again, listening to him playing his flute.

            machinareshi               Even at home, where
            furusato wo dani           I had accepted  waiting,
            towazarishi               he did not call-
            hito wa koko made       would such a man
            omoi ya wa yoru       think of me here?

But it seemed that my life in this world was destined to  endure even this suffering, [64]  for I gradually began to feel better. I thought there was no need to go on forever like this,  so I returned home.  The trees of  my garden are not pines,  but even so they seemed to look  down on me from above,  and I felt ashamed. [65]

            kie kaeri               Little did I guess that
            mata iku beshi to           though I thought I would die,
            omoi ki ya               it seems I shall live:
            tsuyu no inochi no           a life like the dew
            niwa no asajifu           on my garden's  weeds. [66]

Autumn came and I spent my days in useless lamentation. I passed the long nights with my thoughts for I was kept awake by the noisy singing of crickets near my room and the endless pounding of the fulling blocks. I waited fretfully for dawn and the lamp's light on the wall behind me seemed to be my only friend.  I  could  not  stop  crying,  and  my  tears  fell  more  heavily  than  rain beating  against the  window. [67] To  console  myself  I  kept repeating all  day, 'Were there water to entice me. ['68]

It was about this time that my step-father, [69] a man on whom I rely greatly, decided to  make the long journey  from Totomi  to visit sacred places in the capital. When I told him everything that had happened, he tried to cheer me up, and suggested, 'Rather than drowning in your emotions, why not come to my country residence and console yourself with the local views? It's not at all a bustling place; in fact it's a good place for someone seeking peace of mind.' Of course I regretted cutting myself off completely from the capital, and I thought fondly of various places there that I would miss. Disheartened and anxious, I tried at least to  make myself  think that a change in location  might cause a change in me, too,  and hoped that the trip would make me forget my worries.

The day to leave the capital came. But since it was after the 20th day of the Tenth  Month,  even the  light  of  the  early dawn moon  was  depressing. The sound of the wind, too,  was dreadful; I felt it was blowing through my very bones. Everyone was awake and dashing around, while I, in the privacy of my own heart, asked what was to become  of  me if I left on a journey like this. There were many reasons to  feel downcast,  but there was no way to remain behind. When we left the capital, all I could see in front of me were my own dark tears. Nothing can compare with those feelings of loneliness and sadness.

Soon we came to Mt Osaka. Even the renowned limped waters of the barrier made me think of endless tears.

            koewaburu               Reluctantly  crossing
            osakayama no           Osaka Pass-
            yamamizu  wa           in its mountain  stream
            wakare ni taenu           I see endless tears
            namida to zo miru           of unbearable parting. [70]

It began to rain after we had got as far as Noji in Omi. When I looked back toward the mountains  around the capital,  I could see nothing but mist. The increasing distance from the capital distressed me and I asked myself why I ever decided to undertake this journey. My regrets had no limit, and no matter how I tried to stifle my tears, I wept aloud.

            sumiwabite               Because  I was suffering  daily
            tachiwakarenuru           I decided  to leave my home;
            furusato mo               but coming this far
            kite wa kuyashiki           fills me with regret-
            tabigoromo  kana           these robes of travel!

Many things caught my eye along the way, but there was no one close by whom I could ask where we were. We traveled a good distance through fields and mountains,  and I had no  idea where we would  be lodging.  Everything seemed to be a dream and I just followed  the others trustingly. I wasn't used to the long country roads, and so,  as may be imagined, I became completely exhausted  as  the  days  passed.  I  hardly  felt  alive  when  at  last  we  reached the boundary between Mino and Owari. [71]

At a certain place-was  it Sunomata? -we  came to a wide, turbulent river. [72] Travelers from both  directions waited there and kept the ferry boats plying ceaselessly back and forth. Amid all the turmoil, the shouting and hullabaloo made me feel quite nervous.  The important members of  my party at last all managed to  cross.  While waiting  for  our palanquins  and horses,  I stepped down to the river bank and looked  back at where we had crossed. Common
people  of  mean appearance were piling grimy cargo into  a boat.  For some reason or other a heated argument broke out, and a man fell into the water. I was not used to anything so alarming, and my having reached such a crossing brought home to me how far away we were from the capital. My weeping grew so intense that it was hard to bear, for I was troubled at not knowing when I might return. Only a few days had passed, but I was already thinking about my friends at home.  I longed to hear news from the capital, but since this wasn't the field at Sumida River I did not see a capital-bird of whom I could inquire for news. [73]

            omoiidete               Recalling  the capital-bird,
            na wo nomi shitau           whose mere name provoked
            miyakodori               yearning  for home;
            atonaki nami ni           shall I, too, cry before these waves
            ne wo ya nakamashi       that vanish without a trace?

Once we entered this province we came to some large rivers. The tidelands of Narumi Bay were even more intriguing than I had heard. [74] Flocks of  plover flew by. The fishermen's salt kilns had aged into many curious shapes, and I found them novel and intriguing. I only wished that I had a friend from the capital with me, for then I wouldn't be so pensive and suffer inwardly so much.

            kore ya sa wa           So, if already
            ika ni narumi no           this is Narumi Bay,
            ura nareba               then how far must I have come
            omou kata ni wa           from the capital
            tozakaru ramu           for which I long?

When we reached Yatsuhashi in Mikawa province, I thought that this place, too,  must have been different in earlier times for I saw only one bridge. And although I had heard that irises could be seen in abundance here, there was no sign of them in this season when everything was withered.

Lord  Narihira  surely must  have  sighed  here,  saying,  'How  far we  have come!',  for he had left a wife behind in the capital. I reflected that my situation was not so sad as his, and this thought consoled  me a little. [75]

Having traveled far from the capital, we at last arrived in Totomi province. Hamana Bay was quite delightful. [76] A  grove of  pines stretched off into the distance just where the rough waves of the sea channel met the calmer waters of the lake. It was something I would have loved to paint.

I  saw  where  I  would  be  living;  it  was  among  frightfully  delapidated residences,  all with thatched  roofs. [77] My house  was large compared to  the others, which after all was to be expected, but it was enclosed by only a flimsy reed fence-a  temporary residence, not where one would want to settle permanently. I tried making myself think that it didn't really matter whether the place was a palace or a hovel, [78] but all the same it looked as if it was not going to be easy to live there. A grove of pines was at the back, while a large river flowed placidly in front. Since the  sea was nearby, the waves in the bay could  be heard from the house.  At flood  tide,  the river water appeared to be flowing upstream. This change in direction was curious, but for some reason it did not appeal to me. As time went by,  I yearned only for the capital; I gazed out dreamily all day long, and brooded at night. The noise of the rough waves pounding the shore sounded as if they were crashing by my bedside, and it seemed that, although I wished otherwise, the dreams in which I had been able to travel back to the capital could be no more. [79]

            kokoro kara               0  white waves of the open sea,
            kakaru  tabine  ni           allow me at least
            nageku tomo               my nighttime  travels  home,
            yume dani yuruse           though I suffer  from a journey
            okitsu shira nami           of my own heart's  making.

Mt Fuji seemed to  be right in front of  me.  Its snow shone white and the smoke drawn by the wind trailed thinly into the distance. [80] I tried not to think of  the poem with the line 'with no limit above', [81] but I nevertheless felt apprehensive. The mountains in Kai province were also very white and could be seen stretching off to the horizon. [82]

It was toward the end of  the Eleventh Month.  I was looking  through the various letters from the capital and read that the woman who had raised me from childhood had fallen into such depression at my leaving her so callously that her days on earth seemed to be numbered. The brush strokes in her letter were like the tracks of a bird. [83] I was deeply saddened and, forgetting all other considerations, decided to return in haste. I worried that everyone might think me a nuisance, but I did not let my embarrassment hamper my hurried preparations.  Many people  tried to  detain me, pointing  out that there were various dangers involved, for the road was frozen hard and there weren't any trustworthy escorts available.  I wept in discouragement,  and when they saw this and realized what a pitiful state I was in, they selected a few travelers to accompany me and so I was able to set out.

This greatly heartened me, though I could not help feeling depressed when I considered  how  I had  decided  to  leave the  capital  without  thinking  things through, and now I was going to set out and return there. I knew that it would be difficult to come back to Totomi  again, and I began to miss all the things around me.  Such were the workings of  my flighty, troublesome  heart. The pillar against which I had often leaned was rough and I had not thought fondly of it; but as you can guess, I was now depressed about leaving it. I worried that the  sharp-eyed country  folk  might notice  the  following  poem  I left  on  the
pillar,  even though  I wrote  in  such small letters that it would  be hard for anyone to see them.

            wasuruna yo               Rough pillar,
            asagi no hashira           don't  forget me.
            kawarazuwa               If all goes well,
            mata kite naruru           there will be chance again
            ori mo koso are           to come and spend time with you. [84]

Only a few people went with me on the journey this time and, depressing as that was, the experience was completely different from when I had set out from the capital.  The days passed,  and I showed no doubts about my affection. [85]  Although  this return trip had been my own idea,  I could not relax. I had no idea how long it would take, but I did not care.

The weather was bright and clear, and we traveled on without delay. Then, at Fuwa Barrier the snow fell heavily and blew about in the wind. [86] The sky had darkened so much that we stopped  for a while near the Barrier Office. From inside, the guard glared at us with an unfriendly expression, wondering what we were up to,  and it was all rather frightening.



            kakikurasu               Under a dark sky,
            yuki ma wo shibashi       while waiting for a break
            matsu hodo ni           in the snowfall,
            yagate todomuru           a man detains  us-
            fuwa no sekimori           the barrier  guard  at Fuwa.

It started to rain as we entered the capital, and Mt Kagami was enveloped in cloud.  I recalled that when we left, too,  it had been there that it had begun to rain.

            kono tabi wa               This time, Mt Kagami,
            kumoraba  kumore           if you must be cloudy, be so;
            kagamiyama               the capital  where  I shall see
            hito wo miyako no           those whom I have longed for
            haruka  nara ne ba       is near at hand.

Such were my feelings. But in fact the thought that my lover was close was a mere dream. I considered when I might be able to meet him again,  and my mood  once more became somber.

Later in the day the skies cleared splendidly and white clouds floated above the mountains near the capital. I asked someone what were those mountains, and was told that they were the peaks of Hira and Hiei. I looked upon even the fleeting clouds with longing.

            kimi mo sa wa           He, too, is probably  looking
            yoso no nagame  ya       at this same sky,
            kayou ramu               and so we share
            miyako no yama ni       the floating  white clouds
            kakaru  shira kumo       over the capital's  mountains. [87]

We arrived home at sunset. It was probably my imagination, but everything seemed run down; here and there the house was damp and leaky. There was nothing really appealing about the place, but still,  I felt it would be difficult to part with this poor  ramshackle house,  and I was moved as I gazed upon it. When I looked in on the elderly woman,  she seemed to be better already. I was deeply touched to think that no one else so yearned for me, such a pitiful person,  as she did.

Perhaps I had learned something from my urge to drift off like the floating reeds, for I decided afterward that it must be my fate from a former life to stay and rot away in this humble place. I was determined to stop worrying over my troubles and destiny in this world. But my heart does not always act according to reason, and I could not help wondering what would become of me.

            ware yori  wa           Even though these tracings
            hisashikaru beki           may outlast me,
            ato naredo               he who no longer thinks of  me
            shinobanu  hito  wa       will not look  on them
            aware tomo miji           with feeling. [88]
















NOTES
26 Compare  Shuiishui, 434,  by  Oe  Tamemoto       Wakashu, Stanford U.P.,  1985, p.  144.
-U-I  AX:  nagamuru ni /  mono omou koto no       28 Ise  Monogatari, 5 (also in Kokinsha, 632),
/  nagusamu wa /  tsuki wa uki yo  no  /  hoka       by Ariwara Narihira VEJqT?: hito shirenu /
yori ya yuku.                               wa ga kayoiji no / sekimori wa/ yoiyoi goto ni
In composing verse /  I find comfort from /           /  uchi mo nenanamu.
thinking back on that affair; /  does the moon       If  only  he might  /  drop  off to  sleep each
travel,  I  wonder,  /  beyond  this  sorrowful           evening-  /  that watchman who guards /  the
world?                                   place where I come and go  /  with the world
27 Ise Monogatari,  69  (also  in  Kokinsha,           none the wiser.
645):  kimi ya  koshi  /  ware ya  yukikemu  /       McCullough, Kokin  Wakasha, p.  142.
omoezu /yume  ka utsutsu ka / nete ka samete       29 Senzaishi, 798, by Taikenmon'in no Kaga
ka.   4W;M   U:                              kanete yori /  omoishi koto zo /
Might  you  have  come  here,  /  or  did  I          fushi  shiba  no  /  koru  bakari  naru  /
perhaps  go  there?  /  I cannot  recall....   /  Was       nagekisemu to wa.
it dream or reality? /  Was I sleeping or wak-           I expected it /  for some time, /  and thought
ing?                                   to  make the grief /  nothing  more than mere
Helen  Craig  McCullough,  tr.,  Kokin            firewood,  /  from which I will learn.
30 Heike Monogatari   -   5:2  (also  in           Tale of the Heike: Heike Monogatari, Univer-
Shin-Kokinshiu, 1191), by Kojiji  u  +#ft:   ma-       sity of Tokyo  Press,  1975, p. 297.
tsu yoi no / fukeyuku  kane no /  koe kikeba /       31 Gosenshui,   445:  kannazuki  /  furimi
kaeru ashita no /  tori wa mono  ka wa.           furazumi  / sadamenaki / shigure zo fuyu  no /
If he does not come,  /  There is nothing but           hajime nari keru.
the bell /  Deepening the night. /  How small a       Tenth Month.  /  The rain falls,  /  then does
thing the bird call /  That tells us morning is           not  fall /  in uncertain drizzle-  /  winter has
here.                                   begun.
Hiroshi Kitagawa & Bruce T. Tsuchida, tr.,           32 1n   present-day northwest Kyoto. The tem-
ple  in  question  may  be  Koryuiji   AX#,   a       37 X   kLcwJ5,   probably the wife of Abutsu's
Shingon  foundation  that enjoyed  lavish sup-       lover.
port from the court.                           38 In  Genji  Monogatari,  Kosaisho  1J4ft
33 tsuta kokoro  no  iro.  The  Higashiyama           writes in sympathy to Kaoru M, who is griev-
text has 'eda kokoro  no iro'.                   ing the disappearance of his lover, Ukifune   X
34 omoimazuru koto  naki.  Some texts have
omoisamasaru  koto  naki,  'without  calming       aware  shiru  /  kokoro  wa  hito  ni  /
my thoughts'.                               okurenedo /  kazu naranu mi ni /  kietsutsu zo
35 'The bitterness of inquiry', tou ni tsurasa;          furu.
that  is,  when  kind  words  or  actions  cause       Pray  think  me  not  less  feeling  than  the
greater sadness or bitterness. An idiom in fre-       others.  /  But  I  am  no  one.  Silent  pass  my
quent  use  in  Abutsu's  day,  it  appears  five       days.
times in  Towazugatari  jtu-fM   O.               Edward G.  Seidensticker, tr.,  The Tale of
36 Ise  Monogatari,  69-see  n. 27, above.          Genji, Knopf,  New York,  1978, p.  1029.
39 Possibly a  reference to  Ise  Monogatari,           tazunuru.
69,  where  an  Ise  Virgin,  accompanied  by  a       It sheds its rays impartially here and there, /
child, visits the bedchamber of  a man late at       And  who  should  care what mountain  it sets
night.                                   behind?
40 When Genji  visits  a  daughter  of  Prince       Seidensticker, p.  115.
Hitachi  gg,  he  is  secretly  followed  by  his       42The text is unclear at this point:  hotoke
friend  Ta  no  Chuijo  MoDrO4  ,  who  hides       nado  no  mietamaitsuru ni ya  omou  ni  . . ..
behind a fence and then later reveals himself           literally,  'I  felt  perhaps  I  might  be  looking
to Genji.                                   upon  the Buddha or such.'  Nado  and ni ya,
Seidensticker, p.  115.                       which often appear in the first half of the text,
4'Sato wakanu /  kage wo ba miredo / yuku           both lend ambiguity to the statement.
tsuki  no  /  iru  sa  no  yama  wo  /  tare  ka
43 Shin-Kokinshiu,  1772,   by   Arakida           884, with the fourth line slightly changed):
Naganobu   )t[L*R:   tsukuzuku to /  omoeba       wabinureba / ima wa to mono wo / omoedo
yasuki / yo no naka wo /  kokoro  to nageku /       mo /  kokoro  ni ninu wa /  namida narikeri.
waga  mi  narikeri.                           As I grieve /  I think to myself /  That I must
When I keenly reflect, /  I think it is easy /  in       stop;  /  But contrary to  my resolution  /  The
this world; /  but my own  heart /  brings me       tears still flow.
suffering.                                   Mildred Tahara, tr.,  Tales of  Yamato, Uni-
44 1se  Monogatari,   34  (also  in  Shin-           versity Press of  Hawaii,  1980, p. 6.
Chokusenshii  4r0W,-   637,  attributed  to           These  two  allusions,  interwoven  by  the
Narihira:                                   author,  adroitly  express  Abutsu's  sense  of
ieba e ni /  iwaneba mune ni /  sawagarete /           helplessness in facing and controlling her emo-
kokoro  hitotsu ni /  nageku koro kana.           tions.
When I would speak of it, I cannot; / When           45 Some words  seem  to  be  missing  at  this
I  resolve  to  say  nothing,  /  I  am  utterly           point.  It is not clear whether Abutsu is refer-
distraught. /  These days I can but grieve /  In       ring to her own writing or her lover's. Nor is it
my innermost heart.                           evident whose attention she intends. A literal
Helen McCullough,  tr.,  Tales of Ise,  Stan-           translation  of  the passage reads: 'When was
ford U.P.,  1968, p. 94.                       this?.  .  . I wondered  whether  this  might  have
There is an additional allusion to a poem by           caught the eye.'
the  daughter  of  Minamoto  Tasuku  R-A  in       46 Identity unknown,  although  it may refer
Yamato  Monogatari  .kfot'`,   5  (also  in           to Abutsu's wet-nurse who appears at the end
Okagami  ik,   in  the  section  dealing  with           of the story.
Emperor Murakami, and Shin-Chokusenshui,
47 Heavy paper traditionally made in the old           unspecified place near the Northern Hills for a
province of  Michinokuni  and often  used  for       few weeks,  her usual residence, the mansion
love letters.                               of Ankamon'in,  was nearby.
48 The  convent  in  the  western  foothills           Saga,  near Arashiyama  in  western Kyoto,
beyond the city limits.                       lay in the general direction of the convent that
49 Although Abutsu  has been staying at an           was her destination.
50 Kokinshi, 683: ise no ama no /  asa na yu       Ise  no  ama  came  to  be  used  as  a  poetic
na ni /  kazuku cho /  mirume ni hito wo /  aku       metaphor for dampness. Here Abutsu's use of
yoshi  mo gana.                           allusion works doubly to express the author's
I long  for  a means  /  of  seeing  my  fill of           being soaked through and her longing for her
you-  /  seeing like the weed, /  the 'see weed'       lover.
Ise fishers /  harvest morning and evening.           51 Literally,  'same voice', but probably refer-
McCullough,  Kokin  Wakashu, p.  152.           ring to the local accent.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
52 Corrupt text.  Possibly  a  reference  to           55 Shuishu, 1342, by Izumi Shikibu   Th7gkg
shinrei IR,  a type of temple bell.                   kuraki yori /  kuraki michi ni zo /  irinubeki /
53 Eagle Peak (also known as Vulture Peak)           haruka ni terase / yama no ha no tsuki.
is where the Buddha preached his doctrine to       From darkness /  Into the path of darkness /
all sentient beings.                           Must I enter: /  Shine upon me from afar, /  0
54 Kokinshu,  508: ide ware wo /  hito na           moon  above the mountain crest.
togame  so /  obune no / yuta no tayuta ni /           Edwin  A.  Cranston,  The  Izumi  Shikibu
mono omou koro zo.                           Diary,  Harvard U.P.,  1969, p. 6.
You who are watching: /  please do not find           The poem refers to a line in the Lotus Sutra:
fault with me, /  for this is a time /  when love       'From  darkness  proceeding  to  darkness,  /
makes  me  unsteady  /  as  a  ship  riding  the       They never hear the Buddha's name.'
waves.                                   Leon  Hurvitz,  tr.,  Scripture of  the Lotus
McCullough, Kokin  Wakashu, p.  118.   Blossom of the Fine Dharma, Columbia U.P.,
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1976, p. 133.                               'Though he would pass the night in the
Abutsu's 'long night of doubt' refers  to the          thoughts  of the evanescence  of things  to which
state of ignorance  or unenlightenment.           the setting  was so conducive,  he would  still, in
56 Shiogama  is a town at Chiga  Bay, and so      the dawn moonlight,  remember  the lady who
the epithet  means 'as close as can be'. Chiga          was being so cruel  to him.'
also suggests  chika, 'close'.                   Seidensticker,  p. 199.
57 This  particular  monument  is said to have       Also, Shin-Kokinshu,  1260:  ama  no to wo /
been raised  to commemorate  the defeat  of the      oshiakegata  no /  tsuki mireba  /  uki hito shi
Ainu in the ninth century,  and was located in          mo zo /  koi shi kari keru.
Tenmabayashi  in  present-day Aomori,  far           When  I see the moon / as day is ushered  in,
from Kyoto.                            /  I yearn  /  even for the heartless  love.  
Michinoku no is a poetic preface  for fumi,           H.  H.  Honda, tr.,  The Shin Kokinshu,
or 'letter',  in this instance  ishibumi.               Hokuseido, 1970,  p. 346.
58 Possibly  a reference  to Genji  Monogatari,       59 Nakagawa  no mizu is a poetic idiom in-
where  Genji  goes to stay in a temple  north of       dicating  water  that separated  lovers.
the capital:
60 There is a word play here on yo,  'time',           61 Commentators   disagree  about  the  loca-
and fushi,  'season',  both  of  which have sec-       tion  of  Otagi and  offer various  possibilities:
ondary  meanings  relating to  bamboo.  Fushi       Otagi  temple,  mentioned  in  Genji  Mono-
are the joints  of  the bamboo  trunk, while yo       gatari, in Higashiyama; Atago  to the west of
are the spray of  leaves sprouting from  these       Kyoto; or in Shugakuin in present-day Sakyo-
joints.                                   ku, Kyoto.
62 'Binding a grass pillow' indicates sleeping           Were yours not a life of  suffering also,  /  I
on a journey away from home.  Note that the       do not think /  you would have remembered /
story's  title  appears  in  the  last  line  of  the       this someone  /  and come visiting here.
Poem.                                   65 Kokinrokujo   ?S,A1N,   3057: ika de nao ,
63 From  the Lotus Sutra: '.   .   ~"The world is       ari to shiraseji /  takasago no  /  matsu no
in no wise firm or secure, /  But it is like water-       omowamu  / koto mo hazukashi.
bubbles, like a will-o'-the-wisp!"                   I  won't  let  it  be  known  '  I live  still;  /  I
Hurvitz, p. 261.                           would be ashamed-  / What would the   pint.   7
64 Senzaisha,  842,  by  Koshikibu  ']\AQg:          of Takasago think?
omoiidete  / tare  wo ka hito no / tazune  mashi       The pines growing at Takasago Shrine were
/  uki ni taetaru  /  inochi narazuwa.               famous for their longevity.
66 Shiin-Kokinshi,   987, by Saigyo   Af:  toshi       191 1, pp.  193 & 129.
takete /  mata koyu beshi to /  omoi ki ya /           68 Kokinshi,  938,  by  Ono  no  Komachi:
inochi narikeri  / saya no nakayama.               wabinureba  / mi wo ukigusa  no / ne wo taete
Little did I guess /  I'd  ever pass either so           / sasou mizu araba  /  inamu  to zo omou.
many  /  Years  .  ..  or this  mountain  /  Again  in   Like a root-cut reed /  Should the tide entice
one, now long, life: /  Over Mt Dead-o'-Night!       /  I would come /  I would come I know but no
William  R.  LaFleur,  tr.   Mirror for  the           wave asks /  No  stream invites this grief.
Moon,   New  Directions,  New  York,  1978, p.       Translated  by  Sam  Houston  Brock,  in
87.                                       Donald  Keene,  ed.,  Anthology  of  Japanese
67 In  this passage, Abutsu has twice borrow-       Literature  from the Earliest  Era to the Mid-
ed from poems by Po Chui-i  when referring to       Nineteenth  Century, Grove, New York,  1960,
the sounds of  the fulling blocks  and the rain       p. 265.
against the window.                           69 That is,  Taira  Norishige.  See  p.  391,
Autumn poems   'Toi' T   and   'Shuiya'  ,                above.  Totomi  was a coastal province in pre-
in   Wakan  Roeisha   fpfflOqt,   Meiji  Shoin,       sent-day Shizuoka prefecture.
70 Mt  Osaka served as an entry and exit route       71 'Now the boundary line between Gifu and
for the capital. Literally meaning Mt Meeting-       Aichi prefectures.
Hill, it often suggests in poetry the meeting (or       72 Sunomata is located  in present-day Gifu
not meeting) of  a lover.                       prefecture; the river is the Kawakamigawa.
73 Ise  Monogatari,  9, by Narihira: na ni shi       travelers rest at Yatsuhashi, and he composes
owaba /  iza koto  towamu /  miyakodori /  wa       a poem on irises.
ga omou hito  wa /  ari ya nashi ya  to.           Yatsuhashi  was  located  in  Chiryu,  Aichi
If you are what your name implies, / Let me           prefecture, just  off the Tokaido;  the bridges
ask you,  /  Capital-bird, /  Does  all go well /       apparently disappeared before the end of  the
With my beloved?                           Heian period. McCullough, Ise, pp. 75 & 203,
McCullough,  Ise,  p. 76.                       n. 9:1.
74 The mud flats of  Narumi Bay, located in           76 Hamana,  in  the  southwestern  part  of
Nagoya city, are caused by the large fall in the       Shizuoka prefecture, is now a lake as an earth-
tide. The place name often appears in poetry,       quake in 1498 closed the bay's passage to the
for naru mi can mean,  'What I have become/       sea.
come to,'  as seen in the following  poem.           77 Some  texts  have  sukoshi  instead  of
75 Abutsu here makes  another  reference to       sugoku,  which would  change the meaning to
Ise Monogatari,  9, where Narihira and other           'slightly delapidated'.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
78 Shin-Kokinsha, 1851, by Semimaru OA:           of the waves, as if at his ear.'
yo  no naka wa /  tote mo kakute mo  /  onaji           Seidensticker, pp. 235-36.
koto  /  miya  mo  waraya mo  /  hate  shina-       80 Shin-Kokinshi,  1613, by Saigyo: kaze ni
kereba.                                   nabiku  / fuji  no keburi no  /  sora ni kiete /
Our lives, /  This way or that, /  Pass just the       yukue mo shiranu /  waga omoi kana.
same. /  Whether in a palace or a hovel /  We       Like Mt Fuji's smoke /  drawn by the wind /
cannot live forever.                           and vanishing in the sky, /  such too is my love
Susan Matisoff,  The Legend of  Semimaru,           /  that knows not where it's headed.
Columbia U.P.,  1978, p.  163.                   81 Shin-Kokinsh0, 1132, by Fujiwara letaka
79 This passage is strongly reminiscent of  a           ? lF:  fuji  no ne no /  keburi mo nao zo  /
scene in  Genji Monogatari,  where the  exiled       tachi noboru /  ue naki mono  wa /  omoi nari
Genji  pines  away  at  his  lonely  seaside           keri.
residence at Suma.                           The  smoke  from  Fuji's  depths  /  drifts
'Genji's house was some distance from the           higher /  and higher /  without limit; /  so rise
sea, but at night the wind ...  seemed to bring       my thoughts.
the surf to  his bedside  ....  One night when           82 The Akaishi  Range  forms  part  of  the
they were all asleep he raised his head from his       Southern Alps.
pillow and listened to the roar of the wind and
83 1n   Genji Monogatari, the ailing Kashiwagi       a bodkin  through it and into  a crack in the
*Th   writes to  a princess with whom  he is in       pillar. She was in tears before she had finished
love.  'There were many pauses and the words       writing.
were  fragmentary and  disconnected  and  the       ima  wa tote  /  yadokarenu  tomo  /  nareki-
hand like the tracks of a strange bird.'               tsuru /  maki no hashira wa /  ware wo wasuru
Seidensticker, p. 639.                       na.
84 The passage and the accompanying poem       And now I leave this house behind forever.
are  reminiscent  of  an  incident  in  Genji           /  Do not forget me, friendly cypress pillar.'
Monogatari,  where  Makibashira  A t-i   is           Seidensticker, p. 500.
forced to leave the house of her husband.           85 The  text is obscure at this point, and some
'Her  favorite  seat  has  been  beside  the           words  seem  to  have  been  omitted  by  the
cypress pillar in the east room. Now it must go       copyist.
to  someone  else.  She set down  a poem  on  a       86 Fuwa  Barrier, at Sekigahara, Gifu prefec-
sheet of cypress-colored notepaper and thrust       ture, was one of the three ancient checkpoints
set up to protect the capital. By Abutsu's time             onaji /  omoi naru ramu.
it had fallen into ruin and thus often appeared       She gazes into the skies into which you gaze.
in poetry to  evoke  images of  desolation  and       /  May they bring your thoughts and hers into
loneliness.                               some accord.
87 Compare   GenjiMonogatari:  nagamuramu       Seidensticker, p. 258.
/  onaji kumoi  wo /  nagamuru wa /  omoi mo
88 Abutsu ends  her  account  by  quoting  a       Gosenshu,  1140.
poem  by Nakatsukasa   Ff@   found  in Shoku-



















Fitful Slumbers. Utatane
Author(s): Abutsu-Ni
Source:   Monumenta Nipponica,   Vol. 43, No. 4 (Winter, 1988), pp. 399-416
Published by:   Sophia University
Stable URL:   http://www.jstor.org/stable/2384794
Accessed: 16/10/2010 09:16
By purchasing content from the publisher through the Service you agree to abide by the Terms and Conditions of Use, available at http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp  . These Terms and Conditions of Use provide, in part, that this Service is intended to enable your noncommercial use of the content. For other uses, please contact the publisher of the journal. Publisher contact information may be obtained at http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=sophia  .

Each copy of any part of the content transmitted through this Service must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission.

For more information regarding this Service, please contact service@jstor.org.

Sophia University   is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to   Monumenta
Nipponica.
http://www.jstor.org