The Tales of Ise (Penguin Classics) Page 7
He seems to have swallowed his pride and bared his heart.
35
A Loosely Tied Knot
Long ago, the man sent a poem to a lady from whom he had become estranged against his wishes.
Our spirits are entwined
in a loosely tied knot
on a string of gems,
and though it has come undone
I long to see you still.
36
A Hardy Vine
Long ago, a lady reproached her lover, saying, ‘It seems as if you have forgotten me.’ The man’s reply:
I have never felt
our bonds could sever,
for my love is like a hardy vine
that never stops its climb
up to the valley’s peak.
37
Morning Glory
Long ago, the man was having a tryst with a fickle lady whose fidelity he doubted. His poem:
My love, do not undo
your undersash for anyone but me,
even if your feelings
fade like a morning glory
withering before dusk.
The lady’s reply:
The undersash
we tied together,
I will not undo
by myself
till we meet again.
38
The Meaning of Love
Long ago, the man called on the home of Ki no Aritsune. Aritsune was out at the time and returned quite late, whereupon the visitor presented him with a poem:
I have learned from you
what it is
to feel like this.
Surely it is the yearning
people call love.
Aritsune replied:
As even I have been one
always asking of others
what their views may be,
how could you learn from me
the meaning of love?
39
The Glow of Fireflies
Long ago, the Emperor of the Western Pavilion had a daughter named Takaiko. After she passed away, on the night of the funeral, the man, who lived next door, accompanied a lady in her carriage to watch the procession. The imperial cortège did not appear for a long time, and after weeping profusely the man was about to leave. Just then, Minamoto no Itaru, who was known as one of the most famous gallants in all the land, came to see the procession, and he noticed that the carriage they were in was one for ladies. Strolling up to it, he began to flirt with the lady within. Then he caught some fireflies and released them inside. Fearing that the lady’s face could be seen by the glow of the fireflies, her companion inside the carriage tried to extinguish the light while reciting a poem:
When she is borne forth
it will be for the last time,
and like the flame of the firefly,
her light has gone out.
Can’t you hear our cries of grief?
Itaru’s reply:
The tears are sad, indeed,
but the light of her soul won’t fade.
Though the firefly’s flame goes out,
the beauty of your face
still shines within my heart.
The Glow of Fireflies
Itaru was the grandfather of Shitago. His poem was a mediocre effort from a person famous for his rakish behaviour. And it showed disrespect to Her Highness.
40
With All His Heart
Long ago, when the man was in his youth, he fell for an attractive girl in service in his parents’ household. However, his disapproving parents, worried that he might form too deep an attachment, resolved to send the girl away. But despite their intent, they had not actually done so yet. The youth was still dependent on his parents and had no way to prevent them from getting rid of the girl. Nor did he have a strong will of his own. The girl was of low rank and equally powerless to resist.
In the meantime, the youth fell more and more deeply in love. Then, suddenly, the parents decided to get rid of the girl. The youth cried tears of blood, but there was nothing he could do, and she was taken away. He recited a poem through his sobbing:
It would not be so hard
if she had left by choice,
but as that is not so,
the pain I feel today surpasses all
I have ever known before.
Then he fell into a coma. This caused his parents great consternation, for though they knew that their son loved the girl, they had not realized the extent of his devotion and that it would make him physically ill. Utterly distraught, they prayed and made vows to the gods. The youth collapsed at sunset. It was not until the next day around eight at night that he revived. The young of long ago loved with all their hearts. Old men now, they could never be as passionate as that.
41
Purple Bonds
Long ago, there were two sisters. One married an impoverished man of inferior rank and the other a sophisticated man of high rank. On New Year’s Eve, the wife of the low-ranking one washed her husband’s formal wear. Then, she stretched the fabric by herself. She put her whole heart into it, but as she was unaccustomed to menial work, she ended up tearing a shoulder of the robe. There was nothing that she could do to remedy the matter, so she wept inconsolably. Her higher-ranking brother-in-law found her plight deeply affecting. Taking out a fine green robe of his own, he presented it to her with a poem:
Our bond is as deep
as the purple roots of spring,
and, to me, you and your sister
are inseparable
as budding grasses on the plain.
This poem was surely based on the ‘Plain of Musashi’ poem.
42
Treading on My Footprints
Long ago, the man exchanged vows with an amorous lady even though he knew perfectly well her reputation. Despite her ways, he was enchanted by her and visited her often. He worried incessantly about her infidelity, but because he felt as if his life depended on the affair, there was no way for him to resist visiting her. Once, when circumstances prevented him from seeing her for two or three days, he sent a poem:
I have just come home
and my footprints still remain,
but I wonder which suitor
treads back upon them now
on his way to you.
Thus he gave voice to his suspicions.
43
Where the Cuckoo Sings
Long ago, a prince named Kaya was very much in love with a lady and treated her kindly. But another man began to make advances to her, believing that he was her only suitor. Then yet another man, hearing of the attentions paid to her, sent her a poem with a drawing of a cuckoo.
Dear Cuckoo,
beloved of my heart,
how it pains me to see
you fly around and around
so many fields to sing.
Employing the same idea, the lady replied:
This morning I cry
because your fears are based
on ill-deserved rumours
that the cuckoo
sings in too many huts.
It was midsummer. The man replied:
Dear Cuckoo,
though you have many nests,
I love you still,
as long as I can always
hear you sing in mine.
44
Undo a Train
Long ago, the man hosted a farewell party for a friend who was departing for the provinces to take up an appointment. As the friend was close to the family, his wife had a servant serve him sake and made arrangements to present him with a complete set of ladies’ robes. Then the host wrote a poem and had it attached to the belt of the train.
Dear Departing Friend,
I undo this train
from my robes for you,
so that misfortune won’t undo
the train accompanying you.
It was one of the most interesting of all the poems read on the occasion, and it was read aloud with deep
feeling so that it could be savoured fully.
45
Fireflies, Please Tell the Wild Geese
Long ago, the daughter of a couple, who had been brought up with great care, wanted somehow to convey her love for a certain man. Perhaps it was difficult for her to put her feelings into words, and eventually she became gravely ill. As she lay dying, she confessed her love: ‘This is the way I felt …’ Hearing of this, the weeping parents conveyed them to the man. Although he rushed to her home, the girl died, so the man shut himself away in idle musings. It was the last day of summer, and the weather was extremely hot. In the evening, he played music, and, as the night deepened, he felt a slightly cooler breeze coming on. Fireflies were flying high up into the sky. Lying on his side and gazing up at them, the man composed two poems.
Departing fireflies,
if you can rise to the heavens,
tell the wild geese that the breeze
that guides them home in autumn
has already begun to blow.
As I ponder
on this long summer day
that never seems to end,
my idle reveries are tinged
with inexpressible sorrow.
Fireflies, Please Tell the Wild Geese
46
A Special Friend
Long ago, the man had a dear friend. The two were deeply attached and all but inseparable. So when the friend had to go to live in the provinces, they parted sorrowfully. Some time later, a letter arrived, saying: ‘How long has it been since we last met? The thought that you must have forgotten me makes me feel sad, but I suppose it is quite natural to forget someone whom one never sees.’ The man’s reply:
I feel no distance between us,
for there is not a moment
that I can forget you,
and the image of you
always fills my heart.
47
A Sacred Wand
Long ago, the man desired a lady from the bottom of his heart and wondered how he could make her his own. But the lady, hearing that he bestowed his affections indiscriminately, became ever colder towards him. Her poem:
There are as many hands
pulling at the sacred streamer
as there are ladies pulling at you,
so, though I may have feelings,
how could I have faith in you?
The man’s reply:
I am as popular by repute
as the streamer wand cast on water,
but as it flows along
it will surely come to rest
in the ford of a single heart.
48
The One Who Waits
Long ago, the man prepared a farewell party, but having waited in vain for the guest to appear, he composed a poem.
At last I understand
how hard it is to wait
for someone whom one loves.
I shall never stop going to see
the one who waits for me.
49
New Grass of Spring
Long ago, the man was struck by the beauty of his younger sister. His poem:
How sad to think
that you will be someone else’s.
As you are so young and pretty,
I would like to lie with you,
New Grass of Spring.
His sister replied:
To this First Grass of Spring,
what you say perplexes me,
for my love for you
has always been budding
with nothing but innocence.
50
Lovers’ Quarrel
Long ago, the man returned the reproaches of a lady with yet another reproach:
Even if I could pile
a hundred eggs
on top of each other,
how could I love someone
who does not love me back?
The lady responded:
Though some drops may linger
after the dew of morning fades,
who could entrust her heart
to someone with feelings
as fleeting as yours?
The man retorted:
It would be harder
to place my trust in you
than to expect the winds
to have spared
the cherry blossoms of last year.
Writing on Water
The lady responded:
More futile
than writing numbers
on flowing water
is trying to love someone
who cannot return your love.
The man’s reply:
Rapidly flowing waters,
scattering blossoms,
the passing years that age us so—
which of these would heed,
should we ask them to wait?
But though they each insinuated the other’s infidelity, they were probably both involved in secret affairs with others.
51
Deep Roots
Long ago, the man planted chrysanthemums in someone’s garden. His poem:
As I planted them firmly,
they will only fail to bloom
should autumn not come,
and even if the petals scatter,
may the plants always thrive.
52
Sweet Flags and Pheasants
Long ago, the man sent someone a poem in return for a gift of beautifully wrapped rice cakes:
Though you had to trudge
through marshes
to gather sweet flags,
my toil was no less harsh
hunting in the fields.
With the poem he sent a pheasant.
53
Heart of the Night
Long ago, the man was finally able to arrange an encounter with a lady who was somewhat difficult to meet. But while they were still talking, the cock crowed. The man’s poem:
Why does the cock cry?
Not yet fulfilled,
my heart, teeming
with secret longings,
is still deep within the night.
54
The Path of Dreams
Long ago, the man sent a poem to a lady who was acting coldly towards him:
Is it dew falling from heaven
that drenches my sleeves?
No matter how I tread,
I cannot reach you,
even on this path of dreams.
55
The Things You Said
Long ago, the man composed a poem to a lady he still loved even though it seemed impossible that they could become one.
It may be true
you feel nothing for me,
but each time I recall
the things you said,
my heart still brims with hope.
56
An Inn of Dew
Long ago, the man endured the torments of love day and night, until his suffering overwhelmed him. His poem:
Though not a hut
thatched with grass,
as night approaches
my sleeve becomes an inn
where tears of dew lodge.
57
The Skeleton Shrimp
Long ago, the man sent a poem to a cold-hearted lady who was the source of his secret passion:
Just as the skeleton shrimp
sheds its brittle shell,
I, too, break into pieces
with torments of a love
that I brought on myself.
58
Demons and Gleanings
Long ago, there lived a man of refined taste and knowledgeable in affairs of the heart who built himself a residence in Nagaoka and settled there. In the house next door lived some rather fair ladies in the service of an imperial family member. This being the countryside, one day the ladies caught sight of the man setting off to oversee the rice harvesting in his fields. ‘My, what a tasteful occupation for such an elegant gentleman!’ they said, crowding into his house. The man esca
ped and hid in an inner room, whereupon one of the ladies recited a poem.
How sad indeed.
Many years must have passed
since this poor house
was deserted, for not a soul
comes out to greet us.
Then they sat down in his residence. The man sent a poem out to them:
Clamouring demons,
what makes this ruined house
choked in weeds so eerie
is your gathering here
even for the shortest time.
‘Shall we go, then,’ they called out, ‘and pick up the gleanings?’ But the man retorted:
I would gladly
join you in the fields
if it was hardship
that had forced you
to gather up the fallen grains.
59
Crossing the Straits of the Milky Way
Long ago, the man resolved to live in Higashiyama, though it was unclear what made the capital lose its appeal for him. His poem:
As life in the capital
is nothing but sorrow,
I will go look for a hut
in a mountain hamlet
where I can disappear.
But before long, he became very ill and lapsed into a death-like coma. However, when some water was splashed on his face, he revived and recited a poem.