INTRODUCTION: THE CL,ASSJCAL LITERATURE OF JAPAN IN A HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE

The Japanese have a worldwide reputation for being good imitators: it is often thought that the entire classical culture of Japan was simply borrowed from China and that in more recent times the Japanese have distinguished themselves by successfully modernizing Western-style but doing so more rapidly than any Western country ever did. But this emphasis on the borrowing and imitating phases of Japanese development is unfair, for the Japanese have never been blind borrowers. The real talent of these people is that of adaptation: they have a remarkable ability to take what others offer and to make it their own, molding it to certain internal features of their indigenous culture and thus creating something both unique and uniquely Japanese. At the very base of the indigenous Japanese culture is Shintoism, or "the way of the spirits." In its primitive form the main element if this religion is a certain joyous response to the kami, or the awe-inspiring or mysterious qualities of various objects, of either physical of spiritual natures. The spirits of ancestors have kami, as do unusually beautiful flowers, or interesting rocks, or magical animals that can talk, or godlike people. The kami is thus anything that rises beyond the mundane and inspires awe in the beholder. Thus early Shintoism is a religion of joy and celebration rather than a religion oriented toward morality. The cosmology of Shintoism involves the godly pair Izanagi and lzanami, who gave birth, first, to the Japanese islands and then to a variety of spirits, creatures, fire, winds, mountains, and so on. The later world is seen mostly in terms ofthe duality of the sun goddess, representing peace, light, and order, and the storm god, representing violence, darkness, and chaos. Later the sun goddess became associated with State Shinto through the person of the emperor, who is held to be her direct descendant, while the storm god became associated with magic rites and the mysterious communal sects. The peace-loving sun goddess is to dominate, but the violent storm-god can never be completely subdued, and under particular circumstances he may come to the fore. Chinese cultural influence in Japan was most strong between the sixth and· ninth centuries, during. which time regular embassies were sent from Japan to the Chinese court. Confucian ideas became important in the Japanese political system: they strengthened the position of the emperor and reinforced hierarchical tendencies of the society. They also seem to have strengthened the indigenous Japanese ancestor worship. But Confucianism never became a religion in Japan as it did in China, and the hey-day of the Sinicized Japanese court of the Heian period soon gave way before the rising military strength of the Minamoto clan. The Japanese emperor lost most of his powers when Yoritomo set up the shogunate at Kamakura ( 1192), but he was not deposed or overthrown as he would have been in China. Instead he was allowed to remain as a "puppet" ruler, while the shogun, the military leader, function as the "power behind the throne." During this time, and in fact well into the Tokugawa period ( 160 l-1867), the feudalistic tendency, or the tendency away from centralized power into the direction of diverse' power centers based on. landownership, was prevalent. These landlords, or daimyo, had the support of private armies of samurai, and they often engaged in feuds with neighboring clans. In 1601 the Tokugawa Shogunate provided for the first time a strong central power that could combat the . feudal tendency, but local power was still very much in the hands of the daimyo. And the rni litary traditions of the samurai persisted. It was also during the period of Shogunate rule in Japan that Buddhism came into its own and in fact took on much greater importance than it ever had in China. Several popular Buddhist sects gained some mass following during this period: Shingon, Tendai, Amidhist, Nichiren. At the same time there developed the highly aristocratic and uniquely Japanese form of Buddhism that was so influential in many aspects of developing Japanese culture: Zen. Perhaps because of its starkness and simplicity and its complete distrust of intellectualizing, Zen was closely associated with the militaristic samurai tradition. But it also gave rise to some of the mm~t delicate and restrained forms of Japanese art: flower arranging and the Noh drama, for example. Perhaps the most significant feature of the Tokugawa Shogunate was the fact of Japan's jealously guarded and nearly complete isolation from the rest of the world. From the seventeenth to the nineteenth centuries the doors of Japan were closed by choice, except for some very limited contact with the Chinese court and with some Dutch traders in Nagasaki. It was during this period of isolation that Japan strengthened herself, setting the basis for the later development of strong nationalism and rapid industrialization. It was also during this time that the other cultures of Asia were broken down and ravaged by the forces of Western imperialism; thus Japan used to her own benefit a time period which worked much to the detriment of all the other countries in Asia. But the West could neither tolerate nor understand isolation, and at last in 1853 Commodore Perry sailed into Tokyo Bay with a request from the American government for the opening of relation and with some not very subtly veiled threats of force if the Japanese chose not to cooperate. .. The Japanese really had no choice as they knew how much force the West could apply~ but the opening of the doors was, nevertheless, one of the important causes of the downfall of the Tokugawa Shogunate and the subsequent restoration of the Emperor. The Emperor had never been deposed, but his powers had been shifted to the military; at this point the power and center of the government were shifted back to the imperial court although not to the direct control of the Emperor. Once opened to Western influence, the Japanese became avid learners of modern processes of all kinds. They learned about navies from the British, armies from the Germans, and business methods from the Americans. The rapid modernization of Japan was a directed movement, carefully planned and controlled from the top as had been the process of learning from China centuries earlier, and thus it involved no serious restructuring of social classes. There were some moves toward the democratization of the political organization, but basically the aristocrats remained firmly in power; in fact certain aristocratic families found a new source of power in modernization in the formation of big businesses, which even today are among the most important controlling influences in Japanese society. At any rate, Japanese modernization proceeded quickly, especially in the military field, and in 1895 Japan amazed China by defeating her in battle in Korea. In 1905 Japan amazed the world by winning a brief war against Russia. Thirty-five years later, Japan felt strong enough to take on several of the Western powers together and thus embarked upon what is now called World War II. After her defeat in that war, Japan was left in a shambles due to severe American bombing of Tokyo, atomic bombs dropped in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, frightful economic conditions brought about by war expenses, and spirits generally broken by the realization of their own vulnerability. For many young Japanese, this terrible defeat marked the end of self-trust and a complete reorientation toward Western knowledge and Western values. But then Japan rebuilt herself, and in the space of twenty-five years or so became once again one of the important powers in the world. With her phenomenal economic growth, her citizens regained much of their lost self confidence, and the Japanese of today are once again nationalistic, although in varying degrees. Neither is the new Japanese self-respect entirely due to industrial progress: most of the Japanese of today recognize the beauty and value of their traditional culture as well, and that culture is by no means dead and buried. The traditional arts of the tea ceremony and of archery are now practiced by very few, but a certain recognition of the past and a longing for it is felt b'e a great many Japanese today. In fact the reconciliation of past attitudes with present ones remains an important problem in Japan on both the social and the literary levels.

THE SHINTO LEGENDS The earliest writings from ancient Japan are the Record<; of Ancient Matters, or K~jiki, A D. 712, and the Chronicles f?f Japan, or Nihongi, A D. 720. Both of these start with chapters on the mythological Age of the Gods and thus date themselves back into the sixth or seventh century B.C. But both have also been considerably influenced by Chinese thought, and most historians assume that in compiling these collections, early in the .eight century A.D., the Japanese made a conscious effort to supply themselves with the equivalent of the Chinese classical histories. During certain stages of Japanese development, even as late as the Meiji restoration of I 868, these Shinto legends have been accepted as historical fact, although in postwar times they have slipped back into the status of myth. They are still interesting and rather powerful as legends and they still illustrate some of the bases of Japanese nationalism. The following selections are all from the Nihonghi, adapted from Aston's Nihongi and edited by Win. Theodore de Bury m Source of Japanese Tradition.

BIRTH OF THE SUN GODDESS Izanagi no Mikoto and Izanami no Mikoto consulted together, saying: "We have now produced the Great-eight-island country with the mountains, rivers, herbs, and trees. Why should we not produce someone who shall be lord of the universe?" They then together produced the Sun Goddess, who was called 0-hiru-me no muchi. The resplendent luster of this child shone through all the six quarters. Therefore the two Deities rejoiced, saying: "We have had many children, but none of them have been equal to this wondrous infant. She ought not to be kept long in this land, but we ought of our own accord to send her at once to Heaven and entrust to her to affairs ofHeaven." At this time Heaven and Earth were still not far separated, and therefore they sent her up to Heaven by the ladder ofHeaven. They next produced the Moon-god. His radiance was next to that of the Sun in splendor. This god was to be the consort of the Sun Goddess and to share in her government. They therefore sent him also to Heaven. Next they produced the leech-child, which even at the age of three years could not stand upright. They therefore placed it in the rock-camphor-wood boat of Heaven and abandoned it to the winds. Their next child was Susa-no-o no Mikoto. This god had a fierce temper and was given to cruel acts. Moreover he made a practice of continually weeping and wailing. So he brought many of the people of the land to an untimely end. Again he caused green mountains to become withered. Therefore the two gods, his parents, addressed Susa-no-o no Mikoto, saying: "Thou art exceedingly wicked, and it is not meet that thou shouldst reign over the world. Certainly thou must depart far away to the Netherland." So they at length expelled him.

THE SUN GODDESS AND SUSA-N0-0 After this Susa-no-o no Mikoto's behavior was exceedingly rude. In what way:/ Amaterasu [the Heaven-Shining-Deity] had made august ricefields ofHeavenly narrow ricefields and Heavenly long ricefields. Then Susa-no-o, when the seed was sown in spring, broke down the divisions between the plots of rice and in autumn let loose the Heavenly piebald colts and made them lie down in the midst of the ricefields. Again, when he saw that Amaterasu was about to celebrate the feast of first-fruits, he secretly voided excrement in the New Palace. Moreover, when he saw that Amaterasu was in her sacred weaving hall engaged in weaving garments of the gods, he flayed a piebald colt ofHeaven, and breaking a hole in the roof-tiles of the hall, flung it in. Then Amaterasu started with alarm and wounded herself with the shuttle. Indignant of this, she straightaway entered the rock-cave of Heaven, and having fastened the rock-doer, dwelt there in seclusion. Therefore constant darkness prevailed on all sides and the alternation of night and day was unknown. Then the mighty myriads of gods met on the bank of the Tranquil River of Heaven and considered in what manner they should supplicate her. Accordingly Omoikane no Kami, with profound device and far-reaching thoughts, at length gathered long-singing birds of the Eternal Land and made them utter their prolonged cry to one another. Moreover he made Ta-jikara-o to stand beside the Rock-door. Then Arne no Koyane no Mikoto, ancestor of the Nakatomi deity Chieftains, and Fut-o-dama no Mikoto, ancestor of the-Imibe Chieftains, dug up a five-hundred branched True Sakaki tree ofthe Heavenly Mt. Kagu. On its upper branches they hung an eight­ hand mirror. On its lower branches they hung blue soft offerings and white soft offerings. Then they recited their liturgy together. Moreover, Ama no Uzume no Mikoto, ancestress of the Sarume Chieftain, took in her hand a spear wreathed with Eulalia grass, and standing before the door of the rock-cave of Heaven, skillfully performed a mimic dance. She took, moreover, the true Sakaki tree of the Heavenly Mount Kagu and made of it a headdress, she took club-moss and made of it braces, she kindled fires, she placed a tub bottom upward and gave forth divinely inspired utterance. Now Amaterasu heard this and said: "Since I have shut myselfup in the Rock-cave, there ought surely to be continual night in the Central Land of fertile reed-plains. How then can Ama no Uzume no Mikoto be so jolly?" So with her august hand, she opened for a narrow space the Rock-door and peeped out. Then Ta-jikara-o no Kami forthwith took Aruaterasu bu the hand and led her out. Upon this the gods Nakatomi no Kami and Imibe no Kami at once drew a limit by means of a bottom-tied rope (also called a left-hand rope) and begged her not to return again [into the cave]. ' After this all the gods put the blame on Susa-no-o and imposed on him a fine of one thousand tables and so at length chastised him. They also had his hair plucked out and made him therewith expiate his guilt. · ·

THE HEAVENLY GRANDCHILD AND THE SEA-GOD'S DAUGHTER The elder brother Ho-no-susori no Mikoto had by nature a sea gift and the younger brother Hiko-hoho-demi had by nature a mountain gift. In the beginning the two brothers, the elder and the younger, conversed together, saying: "Let us for a trial exchange gifts." They eventually exchanged them, but neither of them gained aught by doing so. The elder brother repented his bargain and returned to the younger brother his bow and arrows, asking for his fish­ hook to be given back to him. But the younger brother had already lost the elder brother's fish­ hook, and there was no means of finding it. He accordingly made a new hook, which he offered­ to his elder brother. But his elder brother refused to accept it and demanded the old hook. The younger brother, grieved at this, forthwith took his cross-sword and forged from it new fish­ hooks, which he heaped up in a winnowing tray and offered to his brother. But his elder brother was wroth and said: "These are not my old fish-hook; though they are many, I will not take them." And he continued repeatedly to demand it vehemently. Therefore Hiko-hoho-demi's grief was exceedingly profound, and he went and made moan by the shore of the sea. There he met Shiho-tsutsu no Oji. The old man inquired ofhim, saying: "Why dost thou grieve here?'' He answered and told him the matter from first to last. The old man said: "Grieve no more. I will arrange this matter for thee." So he made a basket without interstices, and placing it in Hiko­ hoho-demi, sank it in the sea. Forthwith he found himself at a pleasant strand, where he abandoned the basket and, proceeding on his way, suddenly arrived at the palace of the Sea-God. This palace was provided with battlements and turrets and had stately towers. Before the gate there was a well, and over the well there grew a many-branched cassia-tree with wide-spreading boughs and leaves. Now Hiko-hoho-demi went up to the foot of this tree and loitered about. After some time a beautiful woman appeared and, pushing open the door, came forth. She at length took a jewel-vessel and approached. She was about to draw water when raising her eyes, she saw him and was alarmed. Returning within, she 'Spoke to her father and mother, saying: "There is a rare stranger at the foot of the tree before the gate." The God of the Sea thereupon prepared an eight-fold cushion and led him in. When they had taken their seats, he inquired of him the object of his coming. Then Hiko-hoho-demi explained to him reply all the circumstances. The Sea-God accordingly assembled the fishes, both great and small, and required of them an answer. They all said: "We know not. Only the Red-woman has had a sore mouth for some time past and has not come." She was therefore peremptorily summoned to appear, an on her m<;>uth being examined, the lost hook was actually found. After this, Hiko-hoho-demi took to wife the Sea-God's daughter, Toyo-tama-hime, and dwelt in the sea palace .... When the heavenly Grandchild was about to set out on his return journey, Toyo-tama-hime addressed him, saying: "Thy Handmaiden is already pregnant, and the time of her delivery is not far off On a day when the winds and waves are raging, I will surely come forth to the seashore, and I pray that thou wilt make for me a parturition house and await me there .... " After this Toyo-tama-hime fulfilled her promise and brought with her a younger sister. Tama-yori-hime bravely confronted the winds and waves and came to tfie seashore. When the time of her delivery was at hand, she besought Hiko-hoho-demi saying: "When thy handmaiden is in travail, I pray thee do not look at her." However, the Heavenly Grandchild could not restrain himself but went secretly and peeped in. Now Toyo-tama-hime just in childbirth had changed into a dragon. She was greatly ashamed and said: "Hadst thou not disgraced me, I would have made the sea and land communicate with each other and forever prevented them from being sundered. But now that thou hast disgraced me, wherewithal shall friendly feelings be knit together?" So she wrapped the infant in rushes and abandoned it on the seashore. Then she barred the sea-path and passed away. Accordingly the child was called Hiko-nagisa-take-u-gaya­ fuki-aezu no Mikoto. A long time after, Hiko-hoho-demi no Mikoto died and was buried in the imperial mound on the summit of Mount Takaya in Hyuga.

EARLYJAPANESEPOETRY

TO COMFORT MY LITTLE SON AND DAUGHTER Michizane, a high official, was forced into exile. All of his twenty-three children were detained or sent to different places except the two youngest, who were allowed to accompany their father to Kyushu.

Your sisters must all stay at home, Your brothers are sent away Just we three together, my children, Shall chat as we go along Each day we have our meals before us, At night we sleep all together. We have lamps and tapers to peer in the dark And warm clothes for the cold.

Last year you saw how the Chancellor's son Fell out of favor in the capitaL Now people say he is a ragged gambler And call him names on the street. You have seen the barefooted wandering musician The townspeople call the Justice's Miss- Her father, too, was a great official; They were all in their day exceedingly rich. Once their gold was like sand in the sea; Now they hardly have enough to eat When you look, my children, at other people, You can see how gracious Heaven has been.

THE SPIDER

There is craft in this smallest insect, With strands of web spinning out his thoughts, In his tiny body finding rest, And with the wind lightly turning. Before the eaves he stakes out his broad earth; For a moment on the fence top lives through his life, When you know that all beings are even thus, You will know what creation is made of - Sugawara no Michizene

A DIALOGUE ON POVERTY

On the night when the rain beats, Driven by the wind, On the night when the snowflakes mingle With the sleety rain. I feel so helplessly cold. I nibble at a lump of salt, Sip the hot, oft-diluted dregs of sake; And coughing, snuffling, And stroking my scanty beard, I say in my pride, "There's none worthy save II"

But I shiver still with cold. I pull up my hempen bedclothes, Wear what few sleeveless clothes I have, But cold and bitter is the night! As for those poorer than myself, Their parents must be

Wide as they call the heaven and earth, For me they have shrunk quite small; Bright though they call the sun and moon They never shine for me. Is it the same with all men Or for me alone? By rare chance I was born a man And no meaner than my fellows, But, wearing unwadded sleeveless clothes In tatter, like weeds waving in the sea. Hanging from my shoulders, And under the sunken rook, Within the leaning walls, Here I lie on straw Spread on bare earth, With my parents at my pillow, My wife and children at my feet, All huddled in grief and tears. No fire sends up smoke At the cooking-place. And in the cauldron A spider spins its web. With not a grain to cook, We moan like the night thrush. Then, "to cut," as the saying is, "The ends ofwhat is already too short," The village headman comes, With rod in hand, to our sleeping place, Growling for his dues. Must it be so hopeless - The way of this world?

Envoy

Nothing but pain and shame in this world of men, But I cannot fly away, Wanting the wings of a bird.

- Y amanoue Okura

SHORT POEMS

The weeds grow so thick You cannot even see the path That leads to my house: It happened while I waited For someone who would not come.

- Sojo Henjo

The day has ended And the visitors have left - In the mountain village All that remains is the howl Of the storm winds from the peak.

- Minamoto no Yorizane

The cries ofthe insects Are buried at the roots of The sparse pampas grass - The end of autumn is in The color of the last leaves.

- The Priest Jakuren

THE TALE OF THE HElKE Toward the end of the Heian period in Japanese history, two non-imperial clans entered into a power struggle which eventually resulted in the setting up ofthe Bakufu and the beginning of the Kamakura Period. The Tale (if the Heike is the story of the war between these two families: The Genji arc, historically, the Minamotos, the eventual victors, and the Heike and the Tairas. These stories were sung in ballad for over a hundred years before they were finally assembled by an unknown author in the thirteenth century. Some of the best-known portions of this episodic story are about the death of the young Atsumori after the defeat of the Heike at I chi No Tani and the final catastrophe in which the entire Heike clan jumps into the seat to avoid facing defeat alive.

THE DEATH OF ATSUMORI When the Heike were routed at Ichi no tani and their nobles and courtiers were fleeing to the shore to escape in their ships, Kumagai Naozane came riding along a narrow path onto the beach, with the intention of intercepting one of their great captains. Just then his eye fell on a single horseman who was attempting to reach one of the ships in the offing. The horse he rode was dapple-gray and its saddle glittered with gold mounting. Not doubting that he was one of the chief captains, Kumagai beckoned to him with his wat fan, crying out: "Shameful! To show an enemy your back. Return! Return!" The warrior turned his horse and rode back to the beach, where Kumagai at once engaged him in mortal combat. Quickly hurling him to the ground, he sprang upon him and tore off his helmet to cut off his head, when he beheld the face of a youth of sixteen or seventeen, delicately powdered and with blackened teeth, just about the age of his own son and with features of great · beauty. "Who are you?" he asked. "Tell me your name, for I would spare your life." "Nay, first say who you are," replied the young man. "I am Kumagai Naozane ofMusashi, a person of no particular importance." "Then you have made a good capture," said the youth. Take my head and show it to some of my side, and they will tell you who I am." "Though he is one of their leaders," mused Kumagai, "ifl slay him it will not turn victory into defeat, and if I spare him, it will not turn defeat into victory. When my son Kojiro was but slightly wounded at Ichi no tani this morning, did it not pain me? How this young man's father would grieve to hear that he had been killed! I will spare him." , Just then, looking behind him, he saw Doi and Kajiwara coming up with fifty horsemen. "Alas! Look there," he exclaimed, the tears running down his face, "though I would spare your life, the whole countryside swarms with our men, and you. cannot escape them. If you must die, let it be by my hand, and I will see that prayers are said for your rebirth in Paradise." "Indeed it must be so," said the young warrior. "Cut off my head at once." Kumagai was so overcome by compassion that he could scarcely wield his blade. His eyes swam and he hardly knew what he did, but there was no help for it; weeping bitterly he cut offthe boy's head. "Aiasl" he cried, "what life is so hard as that of a soldier? Only because I was born of a warrior family must I suffer this affliction! How lamentable it is to do such cruel deeds!" He pressed his face to sleeve of his armor and wept bitterly. Then wrapping up the head, he was stripping otT the young man's armor when he discovered a flute in a brocade bag. "Ah," he exclaimed, "it was this youth and his friends who were amusing themselves with music within the walls this morning. Among all our men of the Eastern Provinces I doubt if there is any one of them who has brought a flute with him. How gentle the ways of these courtiers!" When he brought the flute to the Commander, all who saw it were moved to tears; he discovered then that the youth was Atsumori, the youngest son of Tsunemori, aged sixteen years. From this time the mind of Kumagai was turned toward the religious life.

THE FIGHT AT DAN NO URA Y oshitsune, after his victory at Y ashima, crossed over to Suwo to join his brother. Just at this time the High Priest of Kumano, who was under great obligations to the Heike, suddenly had a change of heart and hesitated as to which side he should support. He went to the shrine of Imakumano at Tanabe and spent seven days in retirement there, having sacred dances performed and praying before the deity. He received as a result an oracle commanding him to adhere to the white banner, but he was still doubtful. He then held a cockfight before the shrine, with seven white cocks and seven red ones; the red cocks were all beaten and ran away. He therefore made up his mind to join the Genji. Assembling all his retainers to the number of some two thousand men and embarking them on two hundred ships of war, he put the emblem of the deity of the shrine on board his ship and painted the name of the Guardian God on the top of his standard. When this vessel with its divine burden approached the ships of the Genji and Heike at Dan no ura, both parties saluted it reverently, but when it was seen to direct its course tGward the fleet of the Genji, the Heike could not conceal their chagrin. To the further consternation of the Heike, Michinobu of the province of Iyo also came rowing up with a hundred and fifty large ships and went over to the fleet of their enemies. Thus the forces of the Genji went on increasing, while those of the Heike grew less. The Genji had some three thousand ships, and the Heike one thousand, among which were some of Chinese build. Thus, on the twentyOfourth day of the third month ofl185, at Ta no ura in the province of Bungo and at Dan no ura in the province of Nagato, began the final battle of the Genji and the Heike. Both sides set their faces against each other and fought grimly without a thought for their lives, neither giving an inch. But as the Heike had on their side and emperor endowed with the Ten Virtues and the Three Sacred Treasures ofthe Realm, things went hard with the Genji and their hearts were beginning to fail them, when suddenly something th

THEFORMERENWRESSGOESTOOHARA

On the ninth day of the seventh month the Empress' abode was ruined in the great earthquake. Its outer wall fell down and she had nowhere to live. How the days had altered from the time the green-clad palace guards stood continually before her gate, for now the tumble­ down wall, more bedewed with moisture than the outside moorland, seemed as if it understood the change of times and resented the incessant shrilling of the insects. Though the nights grew longer, the Empress could not sleep. She brooded continually over her melancholy condition, and this, added to the natural sadness of autumn, became almost too much for her to bear. In the changed world there was none to feel sympathy for her, and all those of her affinity were gone, leaving none to cherish her in her need. Only the wife of Takafusa and the wife ofNobutaka used to help her secretly. "Ah," she exclaimed, "in former days who would have ever dreamed that I should come to accept anything from such as these?" The Empress thought that she would like to go somewhere far away in the depths of the mountains to spend her days remote from all sound of unrest, for her present dwelling was too near the capital and attracted the eyes of curious passers-by. For some time she did not hear of any suitable spot, but a lady came to tell her of a place in the mountains ofOhara, north of the capital, called the Jakko-in. "A mountain abode is very lonely, it is true," she answered, "but it would be good to live in a place remote from the troubles ofthis world." The matter was settled, and the wives ofNobutaka and Takafusa sent a palanquin to fetch her. At the end of the ninth month she proceeded to the temple of the Jakko-in. as they went along she gazed at the beauty of the autumn tints while the sun sank gradually behind the mountains. The dreary boom of the evening bell of a wayside temple and the thick-lying dew on the grass as they went by drew tears from her eyes. A fierce gale was whirling the leaves from the trees in all directions. Suddenly the sky grew dark and the autumn drizzle began to fall; the cry of a deer sounded faintly, and the shrilling of the insects was incessant. Nothing was wanting to add to the sum of her afflictions, which seemed indeed such as few had been made to suffer. Even when she had been driven about from shore to shore and from island to island, her melancholy was not to be compared to this. The place she had chosen to dwell in was ancient and surrounded by mossy rocks. The reeds in the garden were now covered with hoarfrost instead of dew, and when she gazed on the faded hut of the withered chrysanthemums by the wall she could hardly fail to be reminded of her own condition. Entering before the Buddha, she prayed for the sacred spirit of the Emperor, that it might attain perfect Buddhahood, and for the departed spirits of all the Heike, that they might quickly enter the Way of Salvation. But still the image of the late Emperor was impressed on her mind, and wherever she might be, and in what world soever, she thought she could never forget it. They built for her a small cell ten feet square beside the Jakko-in and in it were two rooms; in one she put her shrine of Buddha and in the other she slept. There she' spent her time continually repeating the nembutsu and performing the Buddhist services, both by night and by day. It happened that once, on the fifth day of the tenth month, she heard the sound as of someone treading on the oak leaves which had fallen and covered the garden. "Who can it be," she exclaimed, "that comes to disturb one who has thus renounced the world? Go and see; for I will conceal myself if it be anyone I do not wish to meet." One ofthe ladies went to look, and it was only a young stag that had passed that way.

THE PRIESTLY SOVEREIGN GOES TO OHARA In the spring of 1186 the Priestly Sovereign expressed a wish to go to Ohara to see the place where Kenreimon'in was living in retirement, but March and April were stormy and the cold still lingered. The snow did not melt on the mountains nor the icicles thaw in the valleys. Spring passed and summer came, and the festival ofKamo was already over when His Majesty proceeded to the recesses of Ohara. The summer grasshes had grown up thickly, and as they parted them on the little-trodden road His Majesty, who had never been there before, was much affected by the lonely uninhabited look of the place. At the foot of the western mountains they came to a small temple. This was the Jakko-in. It might be described by the lines: "The roof tiles were broken, and the mist, entering, lit perpetual incense; the doors had fallen from their hinges and the moonbeams were its sanctuary lamps." The pond and trees of its ancient garden were dignified; the young grass grew thick and the green shoots of the willow were tangled. The water plants on the pond, floating in the little waves, might have been mistaken for brocade. On the island the purple of the flowering wisteria mingled with the green of the pine; the late-blooming cherry among the young leaves was even more wonderful than the early blossoms. From the clouds of kerria roses that were flowering in profusion on the bank came the call of the cuckoo, a note ofwelcome in honor ofHis Majesty's visit. The sound of the water was pleasant as it fell from the clefts of the timeworn rocks, and the ivied walls and beetling crags would have defined the brush of the painter. When His Majesty came to the cell of the former Empress, ivy was growing on the caves and the morning­ glory was climbing up them; the hare's-foot fern an(hhe day lily mingled together, and here and there was a useless gourd plant; here was the grass that grew thick in the path of Yen Yuan and the white goosefoot that keeps men at a distance, and here too was the rain that moistened the door or Yuan Hsien. The cedar boards of the roof were gaping, so that the rain, the hoar-frost, and the dew of evening vied with the moonbeams in gaining entrance, and the place appeared almost uninhabitable. Behind was the mountain and in front was the moor, and the bamboo grasses rustled loudly in the wind. As is the way with those who have no friends in the world, she seldom heard any news from the capital, but instead the cry of the monkeys as they sprang from tree to tree and the sound of the woodcutter's axe. The Priestly Sovereign called to her, but there was no answer. After a while a withered­ looking old nun appeared and he asked her, "Where has the former Empress gone?" "Over to the mountain to pick some flowers," was the reply. "How hard it is," said His Majesty, "that since she renounced the world she has had no one to perform such services for her." "This fate has come upon her in accordance with the Five Precepts and the Ten Virtues," said the nun. "Why then should she spare herselfthe austerities of mortifying her flesh?" · The Priestly Sovereign looked at this nun and noticed that she was clothed in pieces of silk and cotton roughly put together. He thought it strange that one of such appearance should speak thus, and asked who she was. For some time she could answer nothing, but only wept. After a while she controlled her feelings and replied, "I am Awa no Naiji, daughter of the late Shinzei. Once you loved me very deeply, and if now you have forgotten me it must be because I have become old and ugly." She pressed her sleeve to her face, unable to control herself any longer: a sight too pitiful to behold. "Yes," said His Majesty, "it is you, Awa no Naiji. I had forgotten all about you. Everything now seems like a dream." He could not stop the tears, and the courtiers with him said with emotion, "She seemed to speak so strangely for a nun, but she had good cause." Presently two nuns clad in dark robes were seen making their way slowly and painfully down through the rough rocks of the mountainside. The Priestly Sovereign asked who they wer,e, and the nun replied, "The one carrying a basket of mountain azaleas on her arm is the former Empress, and the other, with a load of bracken for burning, is the daughter ofKorezane." The former Empress, since she was living apart from the world in this way, was so overwhelmed with shame at seeing the visitors that she would gladly have hidden herself somewhere to avoid them, but she could not retrace her steps to the mountains nor was she able to go into her cell. The old nun came to her as she stood dumbfounded and took her basket from her hands. "Since you have renounced the world," said Awa no Naiji, "what does it matter about you appearance? l pray you come and greet His Majesty, for he will soon be returning to the capital."

THE PASSING AWAY OF THE FORMER EMPRESS The boom of the bell of the Jakko-in proclaimed the closing day as the evening sun began to sink in the west. His Majesty, full of regret at saying farewell, set out on his return journey with tears in his eyes. The former Empress, her mind occupied in spite of herself with thoughts of bygone days and shedding tears she could not restrain, stood watching the imperial procession until she could see it no more. Again entering her cell, she prostrated herself before Buddha ... The former Empress continued to live on unhappily for some years, till at length she fell ill and took to her bed. She had been awaiting death for a long time, and now she took in her hand the cord of five colors that was fastened to the hand of the Buddha and repeated the nembutsu, "Hail Amida Buddha, Lord who guidest us to the Paradise of the West; in remembrance of the Great Vow, I beseech thee receive me into the Pure Land." As she thus prayed, the daughter ofKorezane and the nun Awano Naiji, standing on either side ofher couch, lifted up their voices in lamentation at their sad parting. As the sound of her prayer grew weaker and weaker, a purple cloud of splendor unknown grew visible in the west, and an unknown perfume of wondrous incense filled the cell while celestial strains of music were heard from above. Thus, in the middle of the second month of 1213, the former Empress Kenreimon'in breathed her last. ENGLISH 3 Japan Readings Part 2

In a Grove

Haiku

Although the Japanese Haiku is now widely known and frequently imitated, and although many Haiku remind us now of English and American Imagistic poems, this particular verse form is very traditional and also very Japanese. It is also a ver: conventional poetic form: it is composed, first of all, of seventeen syllables arranged in three lines of five, seven, five. Within this short form there is usually one very vivid but briefly-sketched sense image, and then a comment on that image or a further suggestion about it or a comparison of it with something else. These are highly suggestive poems, and some of the suggestive value comes from conventional uses of, especially, the kigo or season words: cherry blossoms are spring, locust cries are late summer, etc. It is not necessary (or even advisable) to try to explain Haiku or to read into them, imposing symbolic value on them; it is necessary, though, to respond to them on the level of direct feeling.

Age and Youth

Old pond--- and a frog-jump-in

water-sound

--Basho

The Brevity ofLife

Summer grass:

of stalwart warriors splendid dreams

the aftermath.

--Basho Everyone Dreams

On a journey, iii,

and over fields all withered, dreams

go wandering still.

--Basho

On the Mountain Pass

Here on the mountain pass,

somehow they draw one' s heart so---­

violets in the grass.

--Basho

The WayofZen

Well then, let' s go---

to the place where we tumble down

looking at snow!

--Basho

A Painting ofa Sake Drinker

No blossoms and no moon,

and he is drinking sake

all alone! · --Basho 7he Monkey's Raincoat

The first cold showers pour.

Even the monkey seems to want

a little coat of straw.

--Basho

Summer Voices

So soon to die,

and no sign of it is showing--­

locust cry.

--Basho

A Cuckoo in the Old Capital

In Kyo I am,

and still I long for Kyo--­

oh, bird of time!

--Basho

Bell Tones

As bell tones fade,

blossom scents take up the ringing--­

evening shade!

~-Basho The Autumn ofL(fe

Nearing autumn's close,

my neighbor, now---what is it

that he does?

--Basho

The Birth ofLove

On the plum is glowing

one blossom; now one blossom strong,

warmth too is growing.

--Ransetsu

The Joy ofLivin,g

A tree frog, clinging

to a banana leaf---

and swingin, swinging

--Kikaku

Year's End

Now this year goes away:

I' ve kept it hidden from my parents

that my hair is gray. · --Etsujin The Autumn Storm

First of all,

it blows a scarecrow down--­

storm-wind offal!!

--Kyoroku

The Umbrella

Come and pass and go---

one urnrella---only one--­

evening, and the snow.

--Yaha

Death ofthe P(J'()r

Something makes a sound! ·"

With no one near, a scarecrow

has fallen to the ground.

--Boncho

Unfo.~fille

Wandering dreams: alas,

over fields all burned, the wail

of winds that pass.

--Onitsura The World Upside Down

A trout leaps high---

below him, in the river bottom,

clouds flow by.

--Onitsura

Unconcerned

The plum trees bloom---

And pleasure women buy new sashes

In a brothel room

--Buson

Youth in Spring

Springtime rain: together,

intent upon their talking, go

straw-raincoat and umbrella.

--Buson

A Mandarin Pai

A mandarin pair!

But the pond is old, and its weast;:l

is watching there.

--Buson A WayofZen

The cherry-bloom has gone--­

a temple, in among the trees,

is what it has become. .. --Buson

The Unseen Road

Warehouses in a row---

behind them is a road, where swallows

come and go.

--Buson

A Tormented FJy

Oh, don' t mistreat , ,

the fly! He wrings his hands!

He wrings his feet!

--lssa

Beauty's Power

A daimyo!---And who

makes him get off his horse?

Cherry blossoms do!

--Issa The Traveling Priest

A crossroad sermon! True,

it' s rigmarole---but then,

it's tranquil too!

--Is sa

The New Moon

Just three days old,

the moon, and it's all warped and bent!

How keen the cold!

--Iss a

Life's Transience

The next room' s light,

that too goes out, and now--­

the chill of night.

--Shiki

YoutheAges

Evening moon:

plum blossoms start to fall

upon the lute.

--Shiki Unimportant

In the winter river,

thrown away, a dog's

dead body.

--Shiki

A Spring Day

A day of spring:

a hamlet where not anyone

is doing anything.

--Shiki

Spring Road,

Backward I gaze;

one whom I had chanced to meet

is lost in haze.

--Shiki

Treasure-Trove

A long-forgotten thing:

a pot where now a flower blooms-~­

this day of spring!

--Shiki

A Solitary Grave Icy the moonshine:

shadow of a tombstone,

shadow of a pine.

--Shiki

The Parasol

Dear, your parasol,

in all this blazing sunshine--­

is so very small!

--Seiho

The Good Neighbor

Night, and the mpon!

My neighbor, playing P{l his flute--­

out of tune!

--Koyo

Sounds

Insects one hears---

and one hears the talk of men--­

with different ears.

--Wafu ZEN STORIES

Zen is a very special kind of Mahayana Buddhism. It was brought from India to China by Bodhidharma in the sixth century and finally made its way into Japan in the twelfth century. In Paul Repe's Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, its is a described as "a special teaching without scriptures, beyond words and letters, pointing to the mind-essence of man, seeing directly into one's nature, attaining enlightenment."

Zen enlightenment comes with the sudden realization that the way we perceive things, and the categories our minds make, are in no sense reality; they are simply ways of looking at the world. Even the polarities of good-bad, happy-unhappy, life-death are not inherent in reality but simply imposed by us from the outside. Zen students often reach this realization through struggling with "mind-boggling" riddles, or through being exposed to the very strange and "illogical" behavior of Zen monks and teachers. Thus these stories came about.

All of the following were taken from Reps's Zen Flesh, Zen Bones; some of them were transcribed into English by Mr. Reps from a book called the Shaseki-shu (Collection of Stone and Sand), written in the late thirteenth century by the Japanese Zen teacher Muiu.

A PARABLE

Buddha told a parable in a sutra: A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He11ed, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him.

Two mice, on white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!

THE VOICE OF HAPPINESS

After Bankei had passed away, a blind man who lived near the master's temple told a friend: "Since I am blind, I cannot watch a person's face, so I must judge his character by the sound of his voice. Ordinarily when I bear someone congratulate another upon his happiness or success, I also hear a secret tone of envy. When condolence is expressed for the misfortune of another, I hear pleasure and satisfaction, as if the one condoling was really glad there was something left to g~in in his own world. ·

"In all my experience, however, Bankei's voice was always sincere. Whenever he expressed happiness, I hear nothing but happiness, and whenever he expressed sorrow, sorrow was all I heard." THE THIEF WHO BECAME A DISCIPLE

One evening as Shichiri Kojun was reciting sutras, a thief with a sharp sword entered, demanding either his money or his life. Shiciri told him: "Do not disturb me. You can find the money in that drawer." ,. Then he resumed his recitation. A little while afterward he stopped and called: "Don't take it all. I need some to pay taxes with tomorrow." The intruder gathered up most of the money and started to leave. "Thank a person when you receive a gift," Shichiri added. The man thanked him and made off A few days afterward the fellow was caught and confessed, among others, the offense against Shichiri. When Shichiri was called as a witness, he said. "This man is no thief, at least as far as I am concerned. I gave him the money and he thanked me for it." After he had finished his prison term, the man went to Shichiri and became his disciple.

THE GIVER SHOULD BE THANKED

While Seisetsu was the master ofEngaku in Kamakura, he required larger quarters, since those in which he was teaching were overcrowded. Umezu Seibei, a merchant of Edo, decided to donate five hundred pieces of gold called ryo toward the construction of a more commodious school. This meney he brought to the teacher. Seisetsu said: "All right. I will take it." Umezu gave Seisetsu the sack of gold, but he was dissmisfied with the attitude of the teacher. One might live a whole year on three ryo, and the merchant had not even been thanked for five hundred. "In that sack are five hundred ryo," hinted Umezu. "You told me that before," replied Seisetsu. "Even· if I am a wealthy merchant, five hundred ryo is a lot of money," said Umezu. "Do you want me to thank you for it?" asked Seisetsu. "You ought to," replied Umezu. "Why should I?" inquired Seisetsu. "The giver should be thankful."

THE TEA-MASTER AND THE ASSASSIN

Taiko, a warrior who lived in Japan before the Tokugawa era, Studied Cha-no-yu, tea etiquette, with Sen no Rikyu, a teacher of that aesthetic expression of calmness and contentment. Taiko's attentant warrior Kato interpreted his superior's enthusiasm for 'tea etiquette as negligence of state affairs, so he decided to kill Sen no Rikyu. He pretended to make a social call upon the tea-master and was invited to drink tea. The master, who was well skilled in his art, saw at a glance the warrior's intention, so he invited Kato to leave his sword outside before entering the room for the ceremony, explaining that Cha-no-yu represents peacefulness itself Kato would not listen to this. "I am a warrior," he said. "I always have my sword with me. Cha-no-yu or Cha-ne-yu, I have my sword." "Very welL Bring your sword in and have some tea," consented Sen no Rikyu. The kettle was boiling on the charcoal fire. Suddenly Sen no Rikyu tipped it over. ,. Hissing steam arose, filling the room with smoke and ashes. The startled warrior ran outside. The tea-master apologized. "It was my mistake. Come back in and have some tea. I have your sword here covered with ashes and will clean it and give it to you." In this predicament the warrior realized he could not very well kill the tea-master, so he gave up the idea.

THE TUNNEL

Zenkai, the son of a samurai, journeyed to Edo and there became the retainer of a high officiaL He fell in love with the official's wife and was discovered. In self-defense he slew the officiaL Then he ran away with the wife. Both of them later became thieves. But the woman was so greedy that Zenkai grew disgusted. Finally, leaving her, he journeyed far a_way to the province ofBuzen, where he became a wandering mendicant. To atone for his past, Zenkai resolved to accomplish some good deed in his lifetime. Knowing of a dangerous road over a cliff that had caused the death and injury of many persons, he resolved to cut a tunnel through the mountain there. Begging food in the daytime, Zenkai worked at nigh(dlgging his tunneL WHen thirty years had gone by, the tunnel was 2,280 feet long, 20 feet high, and 30 feet wide. Two years before the work was completed, the son of the official he had slain, who was a skillful swordsman, found Zenkai out and came to kill him in revenge. "I will give you my life willingly," said Zenkai. "Only let me finish this work. On the day it is completed, then you may kill me." So the son awaited the day. Several months passed and Zenkai kept on digging. The son grew tired of doing nothing and began to helpy with the digging. After he had helped for more than a year, he came to admre Zenkai's strong will and character. At last the tunnel was completed and the people could use it and travel in safety. "Now cut off my head," said Zenkai. "My work is done." "How can i cut off my own teacher's head?" asked the younger man with tears in his eyes.

ACUPOFTEA

Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era( f 868- 1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen. Nan-in served tea. He poured visitor's cup full and kept on pouring. The professor watched the overflow until he could no longer restrain himself "It is overfuq_ No more will go in!" "Like this cup, "Nan-n said, "you are full of your own opinions andspeculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"

MUDDY ROAD

Tanzan and Ekido were once traveling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain"' was still falling. Coming around a bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection. "Come on, girl," Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud. Ekido did not speak again until the night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he no longer could restrain himself "We monks don't go near females," he told Tanzan, " especially not young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you that?" "I left the girl there," said Tarzan. "Are you still carrying her?

SOLDIERS OF HUMINITY

Once a division of the Japanese army was engaged in a sham battle, and some officers found it necessary to make their headquarters in Gasan's temple. Gasan took his cook: "Let the officers have only the same simple fare we eat." This made the army men angry, as they were used to very deferential treatment. One came to Gasan and said: "Who do you think we are? We are soldiers, sacrificing our lives for the country. Why don't you treat us accordingly? _, Gasan answered him sternly: "Who do you think we are? We are soldiers of humanity, aiming to save all sentient beings."

REAL PROSPERITY

A rich man asked Sengai to write something for the continued prosperity of his family so that it might be treasured from generation to generation. Sengai obtained a large sheet of paper and wrote; "Father dies, son dies, grandson dies." The rich man became angry. "I asked you to write something for the happiness of my family! Why do you make such a joke as this?" "No joke is intended," explained Sengai. "If before you yourself die your son should die, this would grieve you greatly. If your grandson should pass away before your son, both of you would be brokenhearted. If your family, generation to generation, passes away in the order I have named, it will be he natural course of life. I call this real prosperity."

THE REAL MIRACLE When Bankei was approaching at Ryumon temple, a Shinshu priest, who believed in salvation through the repetition of the name of the Buddha of Love, was jealous of his large audience and wanted to debate with him. Bankei was in the midst of a talk when the priest appeared, but the fellow made such a disturbance that Bankei stopped his discourse and asked about the noise. "The founder of our set," boasted the priest, "had such miraculous powers that he held a brush on one bank of the river, his attendant held up a paper on the other bank, and .. the teacher wrote the holy name of Amida through the air. Can you do such a wonderful thing?" Bankei replied lightly: "Perhaps you foxes can perform the trick, but that is not the manner of Zen. My miracle is that when I feel hungry I eat, and when I feel thirsty I drink."

ZEN DIALOGUE

Zen teachers train their young pupils to express themselves. Two Zen temples each had a child protege. One child, going to obtain vegetables each morning, would meet the other on the way. "Where are you going?" asked the other one. "I am going wherever my feet go," the other responded. This reply puzzled the first child who went to his teacher for help. "Tomorrow morning," the teacher told him, "when you meet that fellow ask him the same question. He will give you the same answer, and then you ask him: "Suppose you have no feet, then where you are going?' That will fix him." The children met again the following morning. "Where are you going?" asked the first child. -, "I am going where the wind blows," answered the other. This again nonplussed the youngster, who took his defeat to teacher. "Ask him where he is going ifthere is no wind," suggested the teacher. The next day the children met at the third time. "Where are you going?" asked the first child. "I am going to the market to buy vegetables," the other replied. IN A GROVE (Ryunosuke Akutagawa)

The Testimony of a Woodcutter Questioned by a High Police Commissioner

YES, SIR. Certainly, it was I who found the body. This morning, as usual, I went to cut my daily quota of cedars, when I found the body in a grove in a hollow in the mountains. The exact location? About 150 meters off the Yamashina stage road. It's an out-of-the-way grove of bamboo and cedars.

The body was lying flat on its back dressed in a bluish silk kimono and a wrinkled head­ dress of the Kyoto style. A single sword-stroke had pierced the breast. The fallen bamboo­ blades around it were stained with bloody blossoms. No, the blood was no longer running. The wound had dried up, I believe. And also, a gad-fly was stuck fast there, hardly noticing my footsteps.

You ask me if I saw a sword or any such thing?

No, nothing, sir. I found only a rope at the root of a cedar near by. And ... well, in addition to a rope, I found a comb. That was all. Apparently he must have made a battle of it before he was murdered, because the grass and fallen bamboo-blades had been trampled down all around. -'

"A horse was nearby?"

"No, Sir. It's hard enough for a man to enter, let alone a horse."

The Testimony of a Traveling Buddhist Priest Questioned by a High Police Commissioner

The time? Certainly, it was about noon yesterday, sir. The unfortunate man was on the road from Sekiyama to Yamashina. He was walking toward Se~iyama with a woman accompanying him on horseback, who I have since learned was his wife. A scarf hanging from her head hid her face from view. All I saw was the color of her clothes, a lilac-colored suit. Her horse was a sorrel with a fine mane. The lady's height? Oh, about four feet five inches. Since I am a Buddhist priest, I took little notice about her details. Well, the man was armed with a sword as well as a bow and arrows. And I remember that he carried some twenty odd arrows in his quiver. Little did I expect that he would meet such a fate. Truly human life is as evanescent as the morning dew or a flash of lightning. My words are inadequate to express my sympathy for him.

The Testimony of a Policeman Questioned by a High Police Commissioner

The man that I arrested? He is a notorious brigand called Tajomaru. When I arrested him, he had fallen off his horse. He was groaning on the bridge at Awataguchi. The time? It was in the early hours of last night. For the record, I might say that the other day I tried to arrest him, but unfortunately he escaped. He was wearing a dark blue silk kimono and a large plain sword. And, as you see, he got a bow and arrows somewhere. You say that this bow and these arrows look like the ones owned by the dead man? Then Tajomaru must be the murderer. The bow wound with leather strips, the black lacquered quiver, the seventeen arrows with hawk feathers-these were all in his possession I believe. Yes, sir, the horse is, as you say, a sorrel with a fine mane. A little beyond the stone bridge I found the horse grazing by the roadside, with his long rein dangling. Surely there is some providence in his having been thrown by the horse.

Of all the robbers prowling around Kyoto, this Tajomaru has given the most grief to the women in town. Last autumn a wife who came to the mountain back of the Pindora of the Toribe Temple, presumably to pay a visit, was murdered, .aJong with a girl. It has been suspected that it was his doing. If this criminal murdered the man, you cannot tell what he may have done with the man's wife. May it please your honor to look into this problem as well.

The Testimony of an Old Woman Questioned by a High Police Commissioner

Yes, sir, that corpse is the man who married my daughter. He does not come from Kyoto. He was a sam~rai in the town of Kokufu in the province of W akasa. His name was Kanazawa no Takehiko, and his age was twenty-six. He was of a gentle disposition, so I am sure he did nothing to provoke the anger 'Of others.

My daughter? Her name is Masago, and her age is nineteen. She is a spirited, fun-loving girl, but I am sure she has never known any man except Takehiko. She has a small, o~al, dark­ complected face with a mole at the corner of her left eye.

Yesterday Takehiko left for Wakasa with my daughter. What bad luck it is that things should have come to such a sad end! What has become of my daughter? I am resigned to giving up my son-in-law as lost, but the fate of my daughter worries me sick. For heaven's sake leave no stone unturned to find her. I hate that robber Tajomaru, or whatever his name is. Not only my son-in-law, but my daughter ... (Her later words were drowned in tears.)

Tajomaru's Confession

I killed him, but not her. Where's she gone? I can't tell. Oh, wait a minute. No torture can make me confess what I don't know. Now things have come to such a head, I won't keep anything from you.

Yesterday a little past noon I met that couple. Just then a puff of wind blew, and raised her hanging scarf, so that I caught a glimpse of her face. Instantly it was again covered from my view. That may have been one reason; she looked like a Bodhisattva. At that moment I made up my mind to capture her even if I had to kill her man.

Why? To me killing isn't a matter of such great consequence as you might think. When a woman is captured, her man has to be killed anyway. In killing, I use the sword I wear at my side. Am I the only one who kills people? You, you don't use your swords. You kill people with your power, with your money. Sometimes you kill them on the pretext of working for their good. It's true they don't bleed. They are in the be~t of health, but all the same you've killed them. It's hard to say who is a greater sinner, you or me. (An ironical smile.)

But it would be good if I could capture a woman without killing her man. So, I made up my mind to capture her, and do my best not to kill him. But it's out of the question on the Yamashina stage road. So I managed to lure the couple into the mountains.

It was quite easy. I became their traveling companion, and I told them there was an old mound in the mountain over there, and that I had dug it open and found many mirrors and swords. I went on to tell them I'd buried the things in a grove behind the mountain, and that I'd like to sell them at a low price to anyone who would care to have them. Then ... you see, isn't greed terrible? He was beginning to be moved by my talk before he knew it. In less than half an hour they were driving their horse toward the mountain with me.

When he came in front of the grove, I told them that the treasures were buried in it, and I asked them to come and see. The man had no objection-he was blinded by greed. The woman said she would wait on horseback. It was natural for her to say so, at the sight .of a thick grove. To tell you the truth, my plan worked just as I wished, so I went into the grove with him, leaving her behind alone.

The grove is only bamboo for some distance. About fifty yards ahead there's a rather open clump of cedars. It was a convenient spot for my purpose. Pushing my way through the grove, I told him a plausible lie that the treasures were buried under the cedars. When I told him this, he pushed his laborious way toward the slender cedar visible through the grove. After a while the bamboo thinned out, and we came to where a number of cedars grew in a row. As soon as we got there, I seized him from behind. Because he was a trained, sword-bearing warrior, he was quite strong, but he was taken by surprise, so there was no help for him. I soon tied him up to the root of a cedar. Where did I get a rope? Thank heaven, being a robber, I had a rope with me, since I might have to scale a wall at any moment. Of course it was easy to st9p him from calling out by gagging his mouth with fallen bamboo leaves.

When I disposed of him, I werit to his woman and asked her to come and see him, because he seemed to have been suddenly taken sick. It's needless to say that this plan also worked well. The woman, her sedge hat off, came into the depths of the grove, where I led her by the hand. The instant she caught sight of her husband, she drew a small sword. I've never seen a woman of such violent temper. If I'd been off guard, I'd have got a thrust in my side. I dodged, but she kept on slashing at me. She might have wounded me deeply or killed me. But I'm Tajomaru. I managed to strike down her small sword without drawing my own. The most spirited woman is defenseless without a weapon. At last I could satisfy my desire for her without taking her husband's life.

Yes, ... without taking his life. I had no wish to kill him. I was about to run away from the grove, leaving the woman behind in tears, when she frantically clung to my arm. In broken fragments of words, she asked that either her husband or I die. She said it was more trying than death to have her shame known to two men. She gasped out that she wanted to be the wife of whichever survived. Then a furious desire to kill hi~ seized me.{Gloomy excitement.)

Telling you in this way, no doubt I seem a crueler man than you. But that's because you didn't see her face. Especially her burning eyes at that moment. As I saw her eye to eye, I wanted to make her my wife even if I were to be struck by lightning. I wanted to make her my wife ... this single desire filled my mind. This was not only lust, as you might think. At that time if I'd had no other desire than lust, I'd surely not have minded knocking her down and running away. Then I wouldn't have stained my sword with his blood. But the moment I gazed at her face in the dark grove, I decided not to leave there without killing him.

But I didn't like to resort to unfair means to kill him. I untied him and told him to cross swords with me. (The rope that was found at the root of the cedar is the rope I dropped at the time.) Furious with anger, he drew his thick sword. And quick as thQught, he sprang at me ferociously, without speaking a word. I needn't tell you how our fight turned out. The twenty­ third stroke ... please remember this. I'm impressed with this fact still. Nobody unde:t: the sun has ever clashed swords with me twenty strokes. (A cheerful smile.)

When he fell, I turned toward her, lowering my blood-stained sword. But to my great astonishment she was gone. I wondered to where she had run away. I looked for her in the clump of cedars. I listened, but heard only a groaning sound from the throat of the dying man. As soon as we started to cross swords, she may have run away through the grove to call for help. When I thought of that, I decided it was a matter of life and death to me. So, robbing him of his sword, and bow and arrows, I ran out to the mountain road. There I found her horse still grazing quietly. It would be a mere waste words to tell you the later details, but before I entered town I had already parted with the sword. That's all my confession. I know that my head will be hung in chains anyway, so put me down for the maximum penalty. (A defiant attitude.)

The Confession of a Woman Who Has Come to the Shimizu Temple

That man in the blue silk kimono, after forcing me to yield to him, laughed mockingly as he looked at my bound husband. How horrified my husband must have been! But no matter how hard he struggled in agony, the rope cut into him all the more tighdy. In spite of myself I ran stumblingly toward his side. Or rather I tried to run toward him, but the man instantly knocked me down. Just at that moment I saw an indescribable light in my husband's eyes. Something beyond expression ... his eyes make me shudder even now. That instantaneous look of my husband, who couldn't speak a word, told me all his heart. The flash in his eyes was neither anger nor sorrow ... only a cold light, a look of loathi.J:l&· More struck by the look in his eyes than by the blow of the thief, I called out in spite of myself and fell unconscious.

In the course of time I came to, and found that the man in blue silk was gone. I saw only my husband still bound to the root of the cedar. I raised myself from the bamboo-blades with difficulty, and looked into his face; but the expression in his eyes was just the same as before.

Beneath the cold contempt in his eyes, there was hatred. Shame, grief, and anger .. .I don't know how to express my heart at that time. Reeling to my feet, I went up to my husband.

"Takejiro," I said to him, "since things have come to this pass, I cannot live with you. I'm determined to die, ... but you must die, too. You saw my shame. I can't leave you alive as you are."

This was all I could say. Still he went on gazing at me with loathing and contempt. My heart breaking, I looked for his sword. It must have been taken by the robber. Neither ~is sword nor his bow and arrows were to be seen in the grove. But fortunately my small sword was lying at my feet. Raising it over head, once more I said, "Now give me your life. I'll follow you right away."

When he heard these words, he moved his lips with difficulty. Since his mouth was stuffed with leaves, of course his voice could not be heard at all. But at a glance I understood his words. Despising me, his look said only, "Kill me." Neither conscious nor unconscious, I stabbed the small sword through the lilac-colored kimono into his breast.

Again at this time I must have fainted. By the time I managed to look up, he had already breathed his last-still in bonds. A streak of sinking sunlight streamed through the clump of cedars and bamboos, and shone on his pale face. Gulping down my sobs, I untied the rope from his dead body. And ... and what has become of me since I have no more strength to tell you. Anyway I hadn1t the strength to die. I stabbed my own throat with the small sword, I threw myself into a pond at the foot of the mountain, and I tried to kill myself in many ways. Unable to end my life, I am still living in dishonor. (A lonely smile.) Worthless as I am, I must have been forsaken even by the most merciful Kwannon. I killed my own husband. I was violated by the robber. Whatever can I do? Whatever can I...I...(Gradually, violent sobbing.)

The Story of the Murdered Man, as Told Through a Medium

After violating my wife, the robber, sitting there, began to speak comforting words to her. Of course I couldn1t speak. My whole body was tied fast to the root of a cedar. But meanwhile I winked at her many times, as much as to say "Don1t believe the robber". I wanted to convey some such meaning to her. But my wife, sitting dejectedly on the bamboo leaves, was looking hard at her lap. To all appearance, she was listening!~ his words. I was agonized by jealousy. In the meantime the robber went on with his clever talk, from one subject to another. The robber finally made his bold, brazen proposal. "Once your virtue is stained, you won1t get along well with your husband, so won1t you be my wife instead? lt1s my love for you that made me violent toward you."

While the criminal talked, my wife raised her face as if in a trance. She had never looked so beautiful as at that moment. What did my beautiful wife say in answer to him while I was sitting bound there? I am lost in space, but I have never thought of her answer without burning with anger and jealousy. Truly she said, ... "Then take me away with you wherever you go. 11

This is not the whole of her sin. If that were all, I would not be tormented so much in the dark. When she was going out of the grove as if in a dream, her hand in the robber1s, she suddenly turned pale, and pointed at me tied to the root of the cedar: and said, 11 Kill him! I cannot marry you as long as he lives. 11 11 Kill him! 11 she cried many times, as if she had gone crazy. Even now these words threaten to blow me headlong into the bottomless abyss of darkness. Has such a hateful thing come out of a human mouth ever before? Have such cursed words ever struck a human ear, even once? Even once such a ... (A sudden cry of scorn.) At these words the robber himself turned pale. 11 Kill him,U she cried, clinging to his arms. Looking hard at her, he answered neither yes nor no .... but hardly had I thought about his answer before she had been knocked down into the bamboo leaves. (Again a cry of scorn.) Quietly folding his arms, he looked at me and said, "What will you do with her? Kill her or save her? You have only to nod. Kill her?" For these words alone I would like to pardon his crime.

While I hesitated, she shrieked and ran into the depths of the grove. The robber instantly snatched at her, but he failed even to grasp her sleeve.

After she ran away, he took up my sword, and my bow and arrows. With a single stroke he cut one of my bonds. I remember his mumbling, ''My fate is next." Then he disappeared from the grove. All was silent after that. No, I heard someone crying. Untying the rest of my bonds, I listened carefully, and I noticed that it was my own crying. (Long silence.)

I raised my exhausted body from the root of the cedar. In front of me there was shining the small sword which my wife had dropped. I took it up and stabbed it into my breast. A bloody lump rose to my mouth, but I didn't feel any pain. When my breast grew cold, everything was as silent as the dead in their graves. What profound silence! Not a single bird­ note was heard in the sky over this grave in the hollow of the mountains. Only a lonely light lingered on the cedars and mountain. By and by the light gradually grew fainter, till the cedars and bamboo were lost to view. Lying there, I was enveloped in deep silence.

Then someone crept up to me. I tried to see who it was. But darkness had already been gathering round me. Someone ... that someone drew the small sword softly out of my breast in its invisible hand. At the same time once more blood·flowed into my mouth. And once and for all I sank down into the darkness of space. -,

Rashomon by Ryunosuke Akutagawa

It was a chilly evening. A servant of a samurai stood under the Rashomon, waiting for a break in the rain.

No one else was under the wide gate. On the thick column, its crimson lacquer rubbed off here and there, perched a cricket. Since the Rashomon stands on Sujaku A venue, a few other people at least, in sedge hat or nobleman's headgear, might have been expected to be waiting there for a break in the rain storm. But no one was near except this man.

For the past few years the city of Kyoto had been visited by a series of calamities, earthquakes, whirlwinds, and fires, and Kyoto had been greatly devastated. Old chronicles say that broken pieces of Buddhist images and other Buddhist objects, with their lacquer, gold, or silver leaf worn off, were heaped up on roadsides to be sold as firewood. Such being the state of affairs in Kyoto, the repair of the Rashomon was out of the question. Taking advantage of the devastation, foxes and other wild animals made their dens in the ruins of the gate, and thieves and robbers found a home there too. Eventually it became customary to bring unclaimed corpses to this gate and abandon them. After dark it was so ghostly that no one dared approach. Flocks of crows flew in from somewhere. During the daytime these cawing birds circled round the ridgepole of the gate. When the sky overhead turned red in the afterlight of the departed sun, they looked like so many grains of sesame flung across the gate. But on that day not a crow was to be seen, perhaps because of the lateness of the hour. Here and there the stone steps, beginning to crumble, and with rank grass growing in their crevices, were dotted with the white droppings of crows. The servant, in a worn blue kimono, sat on the seventh and highest step, vacantly watching the rain. His attention was drawn to a large pimple irritating his right cheek.

As has been said, the servant was waiting for a break in the rain. But he had no particular idea of what to do after the rain stopped. Ordinarily, of course, he would have returned to his master's house, but he had been discharged just before. The prosperity of the city of Kyoto had been rapidly declining, and he had been dismissed by his master, whom he had served many years, because of the effects of this decline. Thus, confined by the rain, he was at a loss to know where to go. And the weather had not a little to do with his depressed mood. The rain seemed unlikely to stop. He was lost in thoughts of how to make his living tomorrow, helpless incoherent thoughts protesting an inexorable fate. Aimlessly he had been listening to the pattering of the rain on the Sujaku Avenue.

The rain, enveloping the Rashomon, gathered strength and came down with a pelting sound that could be heard far away. Looking up, he saw a fat black cloud impale itself on the tips of the tiles jutting out from the roof of the gate.

He had little choice of means, whether fair or foul, because"' of his helpless circumstances. If he chose honest means, he would undoubtedly starve to death beside the wall or in the Sujaku gutter. He would be brought to this gate and thrown away like a stray dog. If he decided to steal ... His mind, after making the same detour time and again, came finally to the conclusion that he would be a thief.

But doubts returned many times. Though determined that he had no choice, he was still unable to muster enough courage to justify the conclusion that he must become a thief.

After a loud fit of sneezing he got up slowly. The evening chill_of Kyoto made him long for the warmth of a brazier. The wind in the evening dusk howled through the columns of the gate. The cricket which had been perched on the crimson-lacquered colu~ was already gone.

Ducking his neck, he looked around the gate, and drew up the shoulders of the blue kimono which he wore over his thin underwear. He decided to spend the night there, if he could find a secluded corner sheltered from wind and rain. He found a broad lacquered stairway leading to the tower over the gate. No one would be there, except the dead, if there were any. So, taking care that the sword at his side did not slip out of the scabbard, he set foot on the lowest step of the stairs. A few seconds later, halfway up the stairs, he saw a movement above. Holding his breath and huddling cat-like in the middle of the broad stairs leading to the tower, he watched . and waited. A light coming from the upper part of the tower shone faintly upon his right cheek. It was the cheek with the red, festering pimple visible under his stubbly whiskers. He had expected only dead people inside the tower, but he had only gone up a few steps before he noticed a fire above, about which someone was moving. He saw a dull, yellow, flickering light which made the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling glow in a ghostly way. What sort of person would be making a light in the Rashomon ... and in a storm? The unknown, the evil terrified him.

As quietly as a lizard, the servant crept up to the top of the steep stairs. Crouching on all fours, and stretching his neck as far as possible, he timidly peeped into the tower.

As rumor had said, he found several corpses strewn carelessly about the floor. Since the glow of the light was feeble, he could not count the number. He could only see that some were naked and others clothed. Some of them were women, and all were lolling on the floor with their mouths open or their arms outstretched showing no more signs of life than so many clay dolls. One would doubt that they had ever been alive, so eternally silent they were. Their shoulders, breasts, and torsos stood out in the dim light; other parts vanished in shadow. The offensive smell of these decomposed corpses brought his hand to his nose.

The next moment his hand dropped and he stared. He caught sight of a ghoulish form bent over a corpse. It seemed to be an old woman, gaunt ,gray-haired, and nunnish in appearance. With a pine torch in her right hand, she was peeping into the face of a corpse which had long black hair.

Seized more with horror than curiosity, he even forgot to breathe for a time. He felt the hair of his head and body stand on end. As he watched, terrified, she wedged the torch between two floor boards' and, laying hands on the head of the corpse, began to pull out the long hairs one by one, as a monkey kills the lice of her young. The hair came out smoothly with the movement of her hands.

As the hair came out, fear faded from his heart, and his hatred- toward the old woman mounted. It grew beyond hatred, becoming a consuming antipathy against all evil. At this instant if anyone had brought up the question of whether he would starve to death or become a thief-the question which had occurred to him a little while ago-he would not have hesitated to choose death. His hatred toward evil flared up like the piece of pine wood which the old woman had stuck in the floor.

He did not know why she pulled out the hair of the dead. Accordingly, he did not know whether her case was to be put down as good or bad. But in his eyes, pulling out the hair of the dead in the Rashomon on this stormy night was an unpardonable crime. Of course it never entered his mind that a little while ago he had thought of becoming a thief. Then, summoning strength into his legs, he rose from the stairs and strode, hand on sword, right in front of the old creature. The hag turned, terror in her eyes, and sprang up from the floor, trembling. For a small moment she paused, poised there, then lunged for the stairs with a shriek.

"Wretch! Where are you going?H he shouted, ban:ing the way of the trembling hag ';Yho tried to scurry past him. Stili she attempted to claw her way by. He pushed her back to prevent her ... they struggled, fell among the corpses, and grappled there. The issue was never in doubt. In a moment he had her by the arm, twisted it, and forced her down to the floor. Her arms were all skin and bones, and there was no more flesh on them than on the shanks of a chicken. No sooner was she on the floor than he drew his sword and thrust the silver-white blade before her very nose. She was silent. She trembled as if in a fit, and her eyes were open so wide that they were almost out of their sockets, and her breath come in hoarse gasps. The life of this wretch was his now. This thought cooled his boiling anger and brought a calm pride and satisfaction. He looked down at her, and said in a somewhat calmer voice: "Look here, I'm not an officer of the High Police Commissioner. I'm a stranger who happened to pass by this gate. I won't bind you or do anything against you, but you must tell me what you're doing up here."

Then the old woman opened her eyes still wider, and gazed at his face intently with the sharp red eyes of a bird of prey. She moved her lips, which were wrinkled into her nose, as though she were chewing something. Her pointed Adam's apple moved in her thin throat. Then . . a panting sound like the cawing of a crow came from her throat: "I pull the hair ... I pull out the hair ... to make a wig."

Her answer banished all unknown from their encounter and brought disappointment. Suddenly she was only a trembling old woman there at his feet. A ghoul no longer: only a hag who makes wigs from the hair of the dead-to sell, for scraps of food. A cold contempt seized him. Fear left his heart, and his former hatred entered. These feelings must have been sensed by the other. The old creature, still clutching the hair she had pulled off the corpse, mumbled out these words in her harsh broken voice: "Indeed, making wigs out of the hair of the dead may seem a great evil to you, but these that are here deserve no better. This woman, whose beautiful black hair I was pulling, used to sell cut and dried snake flesh at the guard barracks, saying that it was dried fish. If she hadn't died of the plague, she'd be selling it now. The guards liked to buy from her, and used to say her fish was tasty. What she did couldn't be wrong,.because if she hadn't, she would have starved to death. There was no other choice. If she knew I had to do this in order to live, she probably wouldn't care."

He sheathed his sword, and, with his left hand oil its hilt, he listened to'her meditatively. His right ha~d touched the big pimple on his cheek. As he listened, a certain courage was born in his heart-the courage which he hqd not had when he sat under the gate a little while ago. A strange power was driving him in the opposite direction of the courage which he had had when he seized the old woman. No longer did he wonder whether he should starve to death or become a thief. Starvation was so far from his mind that it was the last thing that would have entered it.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a mocking tone, when she finished talking. He took his right hand from his pimple, and, bending forward, seized her by the neck and said sharply: "Then it's right if I rob you. I'd starve if I didn't."

He tore her clothes from her body and kicked her roughly down on the corpses as she struggled and tried to clutch his leg. Five steps, and he was at the top of the stairs. The yellow clothes he had wrested off were under his arm, and in a twinkling he had rushed down the steep stairs into the abyss of night. The thunder of his descending steps pounded in the hollow tower, and then it was quiet.

Shortly after that the hag raised up her body from the corpses. Grumbling and groaning, she crawled to the top stair by the still flickering torchlight, and through the gray hair which hung over her face, she peered down to the last stair in the torch light.

Beyond this was only darkness ... unknowing and unknown.