Diaries of Court Ladies of Old Japan. Shikibu Murasaki

Buddha before which I had gone secretly to pray – I was sorry and secretly shed tears to leave him behind.

      Outside of my new house [a rude temporary, thatched one] there is no fence nor even shutters, but we have hung curtains and sudaré.6 From that house, standing on a low bluff, a wide plain extends towards the South. On the East and West the sea creeps close, so it is an interesting place. When fogs are falling it is so charming that I rise early every morning to see them. Sorry to leave this place.

      On the fifteenth, in heavy dark rain, we crossed the boundary of the Province and lodged at Ikada in the Province of Shimofusa. Our lodging is almost submerged. I am so afraid I cannot sleep. I see only three lone trees standing on a little hill in the waste.

      The next day was passed in drying our dripping clothes and waiting for the others to come up.7

      On the seventeenth, started early in the morning, and crossed a deep river. I heard that in this Province there lived in olden times a chieftain of Mano. He had thousand and ten thousand webs of cloth woven and dipped them [for bleaching] in the river which now flows over the place where his great house stood. Four of the large gate-posts remained standing in the river.

      Hearing the people composing poems about this place, I in my mind:

      Had I not seen erect in the river

      These solid timbers of the olden time

      How could I know, how could I feel

      The story of that house?

      That evening we lodged at the beach of Kurodo. The white sand stretched far and wide. The pine-wood was dark – the moon was bright, and the soft blowing of the wind made me lonely. People were pleased and composed poems. My poem:

      For this night only

      The autumn moon at Kurodo beach shall shine for me,

      For this night only! – I cannot sleep.

      Early in the morning we left this place and came to the Futoi River8 on the boundary between Shimofusa and Musashi. We lodged at the ferry of Matsusato9 near Kagami's rapids,10 and all night long our luggage was being carried over.

      My nurse had lost her husband and gave birth to her child at the boundary of the Province, so we had to go up to the Royal City separately. I was longing for my nurse and wanted to go to see her, and was brought there by my elder brother in his arms. We, though in a temporary lodging, covered ourselves with warm cotton batting, but my nurse, as there was no man to take care of her, was lying in a wild place [and] covered only with coarse matting. She was in her red dress.

      The moon came in, lighting up everything, and in the moonlight she looked transparent. I thought her very white and pure. She wept and caressed me, and I was loath to leave her. Even when I went with lingering heart, her image remained with me, and there was no interest in the changing scenes.

      The next morning we crossed the river in a ferry-boat in our palanquins. The persons who had come with us thus far in their own conveyances went back from this place. We, who were going up to the Royal City, stayed here for a while to follow them with our eyes; and as it was a parting for life all wept. Even my childish heart felt sorrow.

      Now it is the Province of Musashi. There is no charm in this place. The sand of the beaches is not white, but like mud. People say that purple grass11 grows in the fields of Musashi, but it is only a waste of various kinds of reeds, which grow so high that we cannot see the bows of our horsemen who are forcing their way through the tall grass. Going through these reeds I saw a ruined temple called Takeshíba-dera. There were also the foundation-stones of a house with corridor.

      "What place is it?" I asked; and they answered:

      "Once upon a time there lived a reckless adventurer at Takeshiba.12 He was offered to the King's palace [by the Governor] as a guard to keep the watch-fire. He was once sweeping the garden in front of a Princess's room and singing:

      Ah, me! Ah, me! My weary doom to labour here in the Palace!

      Seven good wine-jars have I – and three in my province.

      There where they stand I have hung straight-stemmed gourds of

      the finest —

      They turn to the West when the East wind blows,

      They turn to the East when the West wind blows,

      They turn to the North when the South wind blows,

      They turn to the South when the North wind blows.

      And there I sit watching them turning and turning forever —

      Oh, my gourds! Oh, my wine-jars!

      "He was singing thus alone, but just then a Princess, the King's favourite daughter, was sitting alone behind the misu.13 She came forward, and, leaning against the door-post, listened to the man singing. She was very interested to think how gourds were above the wine-jars and how they were turning and wanted to see them. She became very zealous for the gourds, and pushing up the blind called the guard, saying, 'Man, come here!' The man heard it very respectfully, and with great reverence drew near the balustrade. 'Let me hear once more what you have been saying.' And he sang again about his wine-jars. 'I must go and see them, I have my own reason for saying so,' said the Princess.

      "He felt great awe, but he made up his mind, and went down towards the Eastern Province. He feared that men would pursue them, and that night, placing the Princess on the Seta Bridge,14 broke a part of it away, and bounding over with the Princess on his back arrived at his native place after seven days' and seven nights' journey.

      "The King and Queen were greatly surprised when they found the Princess was lost, and began to search for her. Some one said that a King's guard from the Province of Musashi, carrying something of exquisite fragrance15 on his back, had been seen fleeing towards the East. So they sought for that guard, and he was not to be found. They said, 'Doubtless this man went back home.' The Royal Government sent messengers to pursue them, but when they got to the Seta Bridge they found it broken, and they could not go farther. In the Third month, however, the messengers arrived at Musashi Province and sought for the man. The Princess gave audience to the messengers and said:

      "'I, for some reason, yearned for this man's home and bade him carry me here; so he has carried me. If this man were punished and killed, what should I do? This is a very good place to live in. It must have been settled before I was born that I should leave my trace [i.e. descendants] in this Province – go back and tell the King so.' So the messenger could not refuse her, and went back to tell the King about it.

      "The King said: 'It is hopeless. Though I punish the man I cannot bring back the Princess; nor is it meet to bring them back to the Royal City. As long as that man of Takeshiba lives I cannot give Musashi Province to him, but I will entrust it to the Princess.'

      "In this way it happened that a palace was built there in the same style as the Royal Palace and the Princess was placed there. When she died they made it into a temple called Takeshíba-dera.16 The descendants of the Princess received the family name of Musashi. After that the guards of the watch-fire were women."17

      We went through a waste of reeds of various kinds, forcing our way through the tall grass. There is the river Asuda along the border of Musashi and Sagami, where at the ferry Arihara Narihira had composed his famous poem.18 In the book of his poetical works the river is called the river Sumida.

      We crossed it in a boat, and it is the Province of Sagami. The mountain range called Nishitomi is

6

Ancient ladies avoided men's eyes and always sat behind sudaré (finely split bamboo curtain) through which they could look out without being seen.

7

High personages, Governors of Provinces or other nobles, travelled with a great retinue, consisting of armed horsemen, foot-soldiers, and attendants of all sorts both high and low, together with the luggage necessary for prolonged existence in the wilderness. From Tokyo to Kiōto nowadays the journey is about twelve hours. It took about three months in the year 1017.

8

Futoi River is called the River Edo at present.

9

Matsusato, now called Matsudo.

10

Kagami's rapids, now perhaps Karameki-no-se.

11

Common gromwell, Lithospermum.

12

Takeshiba: Now called Shibaura, place-name in Tokyo near Shinagawa. Another manuscript reads: "This was the manor house of Takeshiba."

13

Misu: finer sort of sudaré used in court or in Shinto shrine. Cf. note 2, p. 4.

14

Seta Bridge is across the river from Lake Biwa, some seven or eight miles from Kioto.

15

In those days noblemen's and ladies' dresses were perfumed.

16

Dera or tera = temple.

17

The original text may also be understood as follows: "After that the guards of the watch-fire were allowed to live with their wives in the palace."

18

In the Isé-monogatari (a book of Narihira's poetical works) the Sumida River is said to be on the boundary between Musashi and Shimofusa. So the italicized words seem to be the authoress's mistake, or more probably an insertion by a later smatterer of literary knowledge who inherited the manuscript.

Narihira's poem is addressed to a sea-gull called Miyakodori, which literally means bird of the capital. Narihira had abandoned Kioto and was wandering towards the East. Just then his heart had been yearning after the Royal City and also after his wife, and that feeling must have been intensified by the name of the bird. (Cf. The Isé-monogatari, Section 9.)

Miyakodori! alas, that wordFills my heart again with longing,Even you I ask, O bird,Does she still live, my beloved?