Anthology of Japanese Literature (32 page)

  
(
The Hunter now begins moving slowly about the stage, searching, keeping time with the music
.)

CHORUS
: You stupid, foolish bird! If only you had built your nest with feathers, high in the treetops of the forests, forests dense as that which lies about the Peak of Tsukuba ... if only you had woven floating cradles upon the waves. . . . But no! here upon the beaches, as broad and sandy as those upon which wild geese settle for a moment's rest in their northward flight, you raise your young. And here, O bird of sorrow, you think to hide them. But then I, calling
"Ut
ō
" come . . . they answer "
Yasukata
" . . . and the nestlings are taken. It is as simple as this!

  
(
Still searching, the Hunter has started toward the Bridge, but when the Chorus gives the cry of
"Ut
ō
"
he pauses at the Name-Saying Seat and listens. And at the cry
"Yasukata"
he whirls back toward the stage, as though hearing the birds in the nest. He stamps his foot once and in the midst of a profound silence gives the bird call
.)

HUNTER:
Ut
ō
!

  
(
The Hunter strifes the stage with his stick and begins a pantomime of the hunt which preceded his death. The dance begins slowly with the discovery and pursuit of the birds and gradually mounts in ferocity to their capture and falling. At first the Hunter raises his stick in the direction of the Wafa's Pillar, as though the imaginary birds are concealed in that vicinity, and brings it down to frighten them from the nest. The young birds are then understood to run toward the Bridge. He follows and, stopping near the Bridge, turns his body in an arc as though searching the horizon. Finally discovering the birds near the First Pine, he again flushes them with a wave of his stick- They run toward the front of the stage, with the Hunter in pursuit, wildly brandishing his stick. He catches up with them near the hat, which is still at the front of the stage, and brings his stick down with two sharp blows upon the stage, indicating the falling of the birds. Then he closes the movement with two stamps of the feet
.)

CHORUS
: From the sky the parent bird is weeping tears of blood.

  
(
The emotion of the dance now suddenly changes. The Hunter falls back a few steps and looks up fearfully. Then, hurling away his stick, he runs and snatches up the hat
.)
From the sky fall tears of blood. And I, covering myself with the sedge-hat, with the cloak of straw, try to escape the falling tears, dodging now this way, now that.

  
(
Holding the hat in both hands above his head and moving it rapidly from side to side. Then sinking for a moment to his knees
.)

But alas! these are not the enchanted cloak and hat which make invisible their wearer.

  
(
Rising and moving toward the Waki's Pillar
.)
Faster and faster fall the tears of blood, until my body cannot escape their mortal touch, until the world turns crimson before my eyes—crimson as the fabled Bridge of Maple Leaves, formed of magpie wings across the sky and at the dawn stained red by the tears of two parting lover-stars.

  
(
Throws the hat violently aside and takes out jan. The Chorus now turns from a description of past events to a recital of the tortures which the Hunter is undergoing in Hell. The dance becomes quieter now, the Hunter using the fan to indicate the actions described. The fan is a large white one on which is painted a bird in flight
.)

In the earthly world I thought it only an easy prey, this bird, only an easy prey. But now here in Hell it has become a gruesome phantom-bird, pursuing the sinner, honking from its beak of iron, beating its mighty wings, sharpening its claws of copper. It tears at my eyeballs, it rends my flesh. I would cry out, but choking amid the shrieking flames and smoke, can make no sound.

  
(
The Hunter runs wildly about the stage, in agony
.)
Is it not for the sin of killing the voiceless birds that I myself now have no voice? Is it not for slaughtering the moulting, earth-bound birds that I cannot now flee?

  
(
The Hunter has started moving rapidly toward the Facing Pillar when suddenly he seems unable to move and sinks to his knees, cowering in the center of the stage
.)

HUNTER
: The gentle bird has become a falcon, a hawk!

CHORUS
: And I!—I have become a pheasant, vainly seeking shelter, as though in a snowstorm on the hunting fields of Gatano, fleeing in vain over the earth, fearing also the sky, harassed by falcons above and tormented by dogs below.

  
(
The Hunter rises and, looking up toward the sky and down to the earth, moves slowly, defeatedly, toward the Shite's Pillar
.)
Ah! the killing of those birds! this heavy heart which never knows a moment's peace! this body endlessly in pain!

  
(
The Hunter stops at the Shite's Pillar and, turning, points a finger at the Monk
.)
Please help me, O worthy monk. Please help me. . . .

  
(
The Hunter drops his arms, and the Chorus chants the conventional ending of a
N
ō
play
.)

And thereupon the spirit fades and is gone. . . .

  
(
The Hunter stamps his feet, indicating he has disappeared, that the play is done. He walks slowly down the Bridge and through the curtain, followed in turn by the other actors and the musicians. The Chorus exits by the Hurry Door, and again the stage is left bare
.)

PRIEST
: Life is a lying dream, he only wakes
Who casts the world aside.

I am Kumagai no Naozane, a man of the country of Musashi. I have left my home and call myself the priest Rensei; this I have done because of my grief at the death of Atsumori, who fell in battle by my hand. Hence it comes that I am dressed in priestly guise.

And now I am going down to Ichi no tani to pray for the salvation of Atsumori's soul.

  
(
He walks slowly across the stage, singing a song descriptive of his journey
.)

I have come so fast that here I am already at Ichi no tani, in the country of Tsu.

Truly the past returns to my mind as though it were a thing of today.

But listen! I hear the sound of a flute coming from a knoll of rising ground. I will wait here till the flute-player passes, and ask him to tell me the story of this place.

REAPERS
(
together
): To the music of the reaper's flute
No song is sung
But the sighing of wind in the fields.

YOUNG REAPER
: They that were reaping,
Reaping on that hill,
Walk now through the fields
Homeward, for it is dusk.

REAPERS
(
together
): Short is the way that leads
From the sea of Suma back to my home.
This little journey, up to the hill
And down to the shore again, and up to the hill—
This is my life, and the sum of hateful tasks.
If one should ask me
I too would answer
That on the shore of Suma
I live in sadness.
Yet if any guessed my name,
Then might I too have friends.
But now from my deep misery
Even those that were dearest
Are grown estranged. Here must I dwell abandoned
To one thought's anguish:
That I must dwell here.

PRIEST
: Hey, you reapers! I have a question to ask you.

YOUNG REAPER
: Is it to us you are speaking? What do you wish to know?

PRIEST
: Was it one of you who was playing on the flute just now?

YOUNG REAPER
: Yes, it was we who were playing.

PRIEST
: It was a pleasant sound, and all the pleasanter because one does not look for such music from men of your condition.

YOUNG REAPER
: Unlooked for from men of our condition, you say!
Have you not read:
"Do not envy what is above you
Nor despise what is below you"?
Moreover the songs of woodmen and the flute-playing of herdsmen,
Flute-playing even of reapers and songs of wood-fellers
Through poets' verses are known to all the world.
Wonder not to hear among us
The sound of a bamboo flute.

PRIEST
: You are right. Indeed it is as you have told me.
Songs of woodmen and flute-playing of herdsmen . . .

REAPER
: Flute-playing of reapers . . .

PRIEST
: Songs of wood-fellers . . .

REAPERS
: Guide us on our passage through this sad world.

PRIEST
: Song . . .

REAPER
: And dance . . .

PRIEST
: And the flute ...

REAPER
: And music of many instruments . . .

CHORUS
: These are the pastimes that each chooses to his taste.
Of floating bamboo wood
Many are the famous flutes that have been made;
Little Branch and Cicada Cage,
And as for the reaper's flute,
Its name is Green Leaf;
On the shore of Sumiyoshi
The Korean flute they play.
And here on the shore of Suma
On Stick of the Salt-kilns
The fishers blow their tune.

PRIEST: HOW
strange it is! The other reapers have all gone home, but you alone stay loitering here. How is that?

REAPER:
How is it, you ask? I am seeking for a prayer in the voice of the evening waves. Perhaps
you
will pray the Ten Prayers for me?

PRIEST
: I can easily pray the Ten Prayers for you, if you will tell me who you are.

REAPER:
To tell you the truth—I am one of the family of Lord Atsumori.

PRIEST
: One of Atsumori's family? How glad I am!

Then the priest joined his hands
(
he kneels down
) and prayed:

Namu Amidabu.
Praise to Amida Buddha!
"If I attain to Buddhahood,
In the whole world and its ten spheres
Of all that dwell here none shall call on my name
And be rejected or cast aside."

CHORUS
: "Oh, reject me not!
One cry suffices for salvation,
Yet day and night
Your prayers will rise for me.
Happy am I, for though you know not my name,
Yet for my soul's deliverance
At dawn and dusk henceforward I know that you will pray."

So he spoke. Then vanished and was seen no more.

  
(
Here follows the Interlude between the two Acts, in which a recitation concerning Atsumori's death takes place. These interludes are subject to variation and are not considered part of the literary text of the play
.)

PRIEST
: Since this is so, I will perform all night the rites of prayer for the dead, and calling upon Amida's name will pray again for the salvation of Atsumori.
(
The ghost of Atsumori appears, dressed as a young warrior
.)

ATSUMORI
: Would you know who I am
That like the watchmen at Suma Pass
Have wakened at the cry of sea birds roaming
Upon Awaji shore?
Listen, Rensei. I am Atsumori.

PRIEST:
How strange! All this while I have never stopped beating my gong and performing the rites of the Law. I cannot for a moment have dozed, yet I thought that Atsumori was standing before me. Surely it was a dream.

ATSUMORI
: Why need it be a dream? It is to clear the karma of my waking life that I am come here in visible form before you.

PRIEST:
Isit not written that one prayer will wipe away ten thousand sins? Ceaselessly I have performed the ritual of the Holy Name that clears all sin away. After such prayers, what evil can be left? Though you should be sunk in sin as deep . . .

ATSUMORI:
As the sea by a rocky shore,
Yet should I be saved by prayer.

PRIEST
: And that my prayers should save you . . .

ATSUMORI
: This too must spring
From kindness of a former life.
¹

PRIEST
: Once enemies . . .

ATSUMORI
: But now . . .

PRIEST
: In truth may we be named . . .

ATSUMORI
: Friends in Buddha's Law.

CHORUS
: There is a saying, "Put away from you a wicked friend; summon to your side a virtuous enemy." For you it was said, and you have proven it true.

And now come tell with us the tale of your confession, while the night is still dark.

CHORUS
: He
²
bids the flowers of spring
Mount the treetop that men may raise their eyes
And walk on upward paths;
He bids the moon in autumn waves be drowned
In token that he visits laggard men
And leads them out from valleys of despair.

ATSUMORI:
Now the clan of Taira, building wall to wall,
Spread over the earth like the leafy branches of a great tree:

CHORUS
: Yet their prosperity lasted but for a day;
It was like the flower of the convolvulus.
There was none to tell them
³
That glory flashes like sparks from flint-stone,
And after—darkness.
Oh wretched, the life of men!

ATSUMORI
: When they were on high they afflicted the humble; When they were rich they were reckless in pride.
And so for twenty years and more
They ruled this land.
But truly a generation passes like the space of a dream.
The leaves of the autumn of Juyei
⁴
Were tossed by the four winds;
Scattered, scattered (like leaves too) floated their ships.
And they, asleep on the heaving sea, not even in dreams
Went back to home.
Caged birds longing for the clouds—
Wild geese were they rather, whose ranks arc broken
As they fly to southward on their doubtful journey.
So days and months went by; spring came again
And for a little while
Here dwelt they on the shore of Suma
At the first valley.
⁵
From the mountain behind us the winds blew down
Till the fields grew wintry again.
Our ships lay by the shore, where night and day
The sea gulls cried and salt waves washed on our sleeves.
We slept with fishers in their huts
On pillows of sand.
We knew none but the people of Suma.
And when among the pine trees
The evening smoke was rising,
Brushwood, as they called it,
⁶
Brushwood we gathered
And spread for carpet.
Sorrowful we lived
On the wild shore of Suma,
Till the clan Taira and all its princes
Were but villagers of Suma.

ATSUMORI
: But on the night of the sixth day of the second month
My father Tsunemori gathered us together.
"Tomorrow," he said, "we shall fight our last fight.
Tonight is all that is left us."
Wc sang songs together, and danced.

PRIEST
: Yes, I remember; we in our siege-camp
Heard the sound of music
Echoing from your tents that night;
There was the music of a flute . . .

ATSUMORI
: The bamboo flute! I wore it when I died.

PRIEST
: We heard the singing . . .

ATSUMORI
: Songs and ballads . . .

PRIEST
: Many voices

ATSUMORI
: Singing to one measure.
(
Atsumori dances
.)
First comes the royal boat.

CHORUS
: The whole clan has put its boats to sea.
He
⁷
will not be left behind;
He runs to the shore.
But the royal boat and the soldiers' boats
Have sailed far away.

ATSUMORI
: What can he do?
He spurs his horse into the waves.
He is full of perplexity.
And then

CHORUS
: He looks behind him and sees
That Kumagai pursues him;
He cannot escape.
Then Atsumori turns his horse
Knee-deep in the lashing waves,
And draws his sword.
Twice, three times he strikes; then, still saddled,
In close fight they twine; roll headlong together
Among the surf of the shore.
So Atsumori fell and was slain, but now the Wheel of Fate
Has turned and brought him back.