Anthology of Japanese Literature/Poetry in Chinese

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Anthology of Japanese Literature
edited by Donald Keene
Poetry in Chinese
4395408Anthology of Japanese Literature — Poetry in ChineseDonald Keene

POETRY IN CHINESE

[The first two poems, although they were written in the Ancient Period, are preserved in a Heian collection, and are therefore given here.]

In praise of Buddha

The sun of his wisdom lights a thousand worlds;
His merciful clouds all creatures hide.
A myriad destinies are fulfilled in His love;
The voice of His law—how it strikes my heart!

Empress Shōtoku (718-770)

The small hills

How march the four seasons in succession
Unwaywardly, from the eons past!
Grasses that greet the spring in flowered tapestry;
The summer trees curtained in leaves;
In the sad breath of autumn, the falling fruit;
Bare branches before the shrill winter wind—
When I see these seasonal things, I know
How man too must flourish and die.
Of the hills of Paradise have I heard but never seen;
Toward the land of the gods I gaze, knowing not the way.
I know only that to make a mountain
You must pile the little clods one by one.
Where then should I seek nobility?
In what delights the heart there is nothing mean.
I roof the narrow grotto in the garden end;
Lead the thin streams to flow before my hall.

Hills beneath heaven;
On the broad earth, trees—
These things that the small man spurns
The wise shall nourish.
Though I want in the straits of distress,
How should I decline the defenses of virtue?
At my case I draw off the lakes of the west;
My gaze governs the northern waters.
And these ragged hills
That shut not out the coursing sun;
This clear bright pond,
Ruffled in the wind;
Pines that nod from their crags in greeting;
Rocks shining from the river bottom beneath drifting watery mirrors;
Scattered clouds that cloak the summits in shadows;
The half-risen moon which lights the vales,
When from tree to tree dart crying birds:
To these will I abandon, will I entrust my life.
The Great Creator, in the variety of his works,
Blesses as well the lowly and small.
When all philosophy I resolve in this one act,
I may stride the leviathan seas and they will not hold me!
Into the dark heart of all being I shall ride
And dwell in the spacious halls of the ant.
Truly need one seek not beyond his door for wisdom;
Must a man see all mountains and seas to love them?
In these lines have I entrusted
The writing of what my heart has learned.

Isonokami no Yakatsugu (729-781)

The banished official

Wine and feasts I followed with the host of officials;
Unworthy, yet I stood in the Court of the Emperor.
With reverence I received the rites of investiture—

Next day I was banished from the council chamber.
On that noble ground, no room for my anxious feet;
From high heaven came accusations, to whom could I cry?
I left the company of the virtuous, the ranks of the adorned;
To me alone the sea-encircling dew came not.[1]
I listened outside the palace to the sound of singing;
Below the stairs, apart, I watched the ladies on the terrace.
I returned in the dusk to face my wife in shame;
Through the night I lay talking with my children in bed.
Great faults and small merit were mine, I know.
For mercy and light penalty I am forever grateful.
Though I may never again enter the gate of my lord,
I shall speak from this far land and Heaven may hear me.

Nakao-ō (Early Ninth Century)

Composed when her father, the Emperor Saga, visited the Kamo Shrine, where she was a priestess

Silent was my lonely lodge among the mountain trees
When to this far lake your fairy carriage came.
The lone forest bird tasted the dew of spring;
Cold flowers of the dark valley saw the sun’s brightness.
Springs sound close by like the echo of early thunder;
High hills shine clear and green above the evening rain.
Should I once more know the warmth of this fair face,
All my life will I give thanks to the azure skies.

Princess Uchiko (807-847)

Washing my hair

I look at the comb, I look at the water, I look at what has fallen.
Age and youth are far apart; I cannot have them both.

Do not tell me that my hair gets thinner by the day—
See, instead, how the beards of my grandsons grow out!

Shimada no Tadaomi (828-891)

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 have hardly 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 Michizane (845-903)

The puppeteers

These were a gypsy-like people who wandered about Japan making a living by singing and dancing, operating puppets, and performing feats of magic.

Ceaseless wanderers from of old, the puppeteers,
Over all the earth searching ever a new home.
They pitch their tents and sing in the night to the mountain moon;
Restless they seek new paths; I see their smoke in the spring fields.
Youth in the bright capital, their women pampered favorites;
The years of age alone, watching over a hut of thatch.
The traveler passing far off cast suspicious eyes
At the white hair, the vacant, wrinkled face.

Fujiwara no Tadamichi (1097-1164)

TRANSLATED BY BURTON WATSON

  1. That is, Imperial favor. In reading Chinese and Japanese poetry, one should keep in mind that since the Emperor is the Son of Heaven metaphors relating to the sky, dew, etc., often refer to the throne.