18/11/2012

Oku Station 1 - Prologue

[ . BACK to WORLDKIGO . TOP . ]
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 

- Oku no Hosomichi - 奥の細道 - おくのほそ道
The Narrow Road to the Deep North -


. Oku no Hosomichi - 奥の細道 - Introduction .


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

- - - Station 1 - Prologue 出発まで - - -


Days and months are the travellers of eternity. So are the years that pass by. Those who steer a boat across the sea, or drive a horse over the earth till they succumb to the weight of years, spend every minute of their lives travelling. There are a great number of the ancients, too, who died on the road. I myself have been tempted for a long time by the cloud-moving wind- filled with a strong desire to wander.

It was only toward the end of last autumn that I returned from rambling along the coast. I barely had time to sweep the cobwebs from my broken house on the River Sumida before the New Year, but no sooner had the spring mist begun to rise over the field than I wanted to be on the road again to cross the barrier-gate of Shirakawa in due time. The gods seem to have possessed my soul and turned it inside out, and the roadside images seemed to invite me from every corner, so that it was impossible for me to stay idle at home.

Even while I was getting ready, mending my torn trousers, tying a new strap to my hat, and applying moxa to my legs to strengthen them, I was already dreaming of the full moon rising over the islands of Matsushima. Finally, I sold my house, moving to the cottage of Sampu, for a temporary stay. Upon the threshold of my old home, however, I wrote a linked verse of eight pieces and hung it on a wooden pillar.

The starting piece was:

Behind this door
Now buried in deep grass
A different generation will celebrate
The Festival of Dolls.


Tr. by Nobuyuki Yuasa


- - - - - Notes
Eternity, in time, generations, voyagers
This is an allusion to a work by the Chinese poet Li Po.

Road, travelling, journey, journeyed
Basho's respected models all died on the road; Saigyo at Kawachi, Sogi at Hakone Yumoto, Li Po at Kiukiang, and Tu Fu who died at Lake Dotei. Where did Noin die?

Corner, road gods, Dosojin, spirits of the road
The Dosojin are pairs of male and female deities that protect travellers. These statues are located beside the roads.

Pillar, hut, cottage
A renga would be written on multiple sheets of paper with the first eight verses coming on the first page, so that is what Basho posted up. This renga no longer exists.

Dolls, well, house
By using the line "hina no ie" Basho suggests that whoever moves into this place has either a wife or a daughter. Since Basho has neither, the poem expreses how different his situation is from that of the new occupant.
source : terebess.hu/english


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 


月日は百代の過客にして、行かふ年も又旅人也。
舟の上に生涯をうかべ馬の口とらえて老をむかふる物は、日々旅にして、旅を栖とす。古人も多く旅に死せるあり。予もいづれの年よりか、片雲の風にさそはれて、漂泊の思ひやまず、海浜にさすらへ、去年の秋江上の破屋に蜘の古巣をはらひて、やゝ年も暮、春立る霞の空に、白河の関こえんと、そヾろ神の物につきて心をくるはせ、道祖神のまねきにあひて取もの手につかず、もゝ引の破をつヾり、笠の緒付かえて、三里に灸すゆるより、松島の月先心にかゝりて、住る方は人に譲り、杉風が別墅に移るに、

草の戸も住替る代ぞひなの家 - kusa no to mo zumikawaru yo zo hina no ie
面八句を庵の柱に懸置

....................................................................................................................................................


- - - - - Translation by Donald Keene

The months and days are the travellers of eternity.
The years that come and go are also voyagers.

Those who float away their lives on ships or who grow old leading horses are forever journeying, and their homes are wherever their travels take them. Many of the men of old died on the road, and I too for years past have been stirred by the sight of a solitary cloud drifting with the wind to ceaseless thoughts of roaming.

Last year I spent wandering along the seacoast. In autumn I returned to my cottage on the river and swept away the cobwebs. Gradually the year drew to its close. When spring came and there was mist in the air, I thought of crossing the Barrier of Shirakawa into Oku. I seemed to be possessed by the spirits of wanderlust, and they all but deprived me of my senses. The guardian spirits of the road beckoned, and I could not settle down to work.

I patched my torn trousers and changed the cord on my bamboo hat. To strengthen my legs for the journey I had moxa burned on my shins. By then I could think of nothing but the moon at Matsushima. When I sold my cottage and moved to Sampū’s villa, to stay until I started on my journey, I hung this poem on a post in my hut:

kusa no to mo sumikawaru yo zo hina no ie

Even a thatched hut
May change with a new owner
Into a doll’s house.


This became the first of an eight-verse sequence.
source : en.wikipedia.org



- - - - - Translation by Barnhill :

Months and days are the wayfarers of a hundred generations,
the years too, going and coming, are wanderers.
For those who drift life away on a boat, for those who meet age leading a horse by the mouth, each day is a journey, the journey itself home. Among Ancients, too, many died on a journey. And so I to—for how many years—drawn by a cloud wisp wind, have been unable to stop thoughts of rambling. I roamed the coast, then last fall brushed cobwebs off my winter hut. The year too gradually passed, and with a sky of spring’s rising mist came thoughts of crossing the Shirakawa Barrier.
Possessed by the spirits of roving which wrenched the heart, beckoned by Dōsojin, unable to settle hand on anything, I mended a tear in my pants, replaced a cord in my hat, burned my shins with moxa, and then with the moon of Matsushima rising in my mind, I handed on my hut to another and moved to Sanpū’s cottage.

a grass hut
has a season of moving:
a doll’s house  



::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


- - - - - - - - - - MORE translations of the "months and days"

Moon & sun are passing figures of countless generations,
and years coming or going wanderers too.
Drifting life away on a boat or meeting age leading a horse by the mouth, each day is a journey and the journey itself home. Amongst those of old were many that perished upon the journey.
(translated by Cid Corman and Kamaike Susumu, Back Roads to Far Towns)


The sun and the moon are eternal voyagers; the years that come and go are travelers too. For those whose lives float away on boats, for those who greet old age with hands clasping the lead ropes of horses, travel is life, travel is home. And many are the men of old who have perished as they journeyed.
(translated by Helen Craig McCullough, The Narrow Road to the Interior)


The passing days and months are eternal travellers in time.
The years that come and go are travellers too.
Life itself is a journey; and as for those who spend their days upon the waters in ships and those who grow old leading horses, their very home is the open road. And some poets of old there were who died while travelling.
(translated by Dorothy Britton, Narrow Road to a Far Province)

source : ngm.nationalgeographic.com


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 

kusa no to mo sumikawaru yo zo hina no ie


the grass door too
turning into
a doll’s house

Tr. Corman and Kamaike



My old grasshut
Lived in now by another generation
Is decked out with dolls.

Tr. Earl Miner



This rude hermit cell
Will be different now, knowing Dolls’
Festival as well.

Tr. Dorothy Britton


Even my grass-thatched hut
will have new occupants now:
a display of dolls.

Tr. Helen Craig McCullough


Even a thatched hut
May change with a new owner
Into a doll’s house.

Tr. Donald Keene


In my grass hut the residents change:
now a doll’s house

Tr. Hiroaki Sato


Even this grass hut
may be transformed
into a doll’s house.

Tr. Sam Hamill


even this grass hut
could for the new owner be
a festive house of dolls!

Tr. Tim Chilcott


The full translations are all here
source : www.bopsecrets.org



this old thatched hut
will change inhabitants now -
a home with hina dolls

Tr. Gabi Greve


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


The months and days are wayfarers of a hundred generations,
and the years that come and go are also travellers.

Tr. Hiroaki Sato


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 


The moon and sun are eternal travelers.
Even the years wander on.
A lifetime adrift in a boat, or in old age leading a tired horse into the years,
every day is a journey,
and the journey itself is home.

Following Basho's Footsteps
source : Will Aitken

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Months and days are the wayfarers of a hundred generations, the years too, going and coming, are wanderers. For those who drift life away on a boat, for those who meet age leading a horse by the mouth, each day is a journey, the journey itself home. Among ancients, too, many died on the journey. And so I too--for how many years--drawn by a cloud wisp wind, have been unable to stop thoughts of rambling.


Here death is always followed by life, as life is followed by death. This is neither the cyclical change in which spring goes and then returns nor the karmic cycle of rebirth. The images of days, months, and years suggests that what passes will not return: a year once gone is gone forever. The ancients, too, have come and gone, dying on their life's journey, to be followed by other poets and religious practitioners. Now Bashō journeys, and the implication is that he too will die--and that others will follow him. The balance between the acute sense of death with strong sense of historical continuity gives this passage a pronounced tone of solemn celebration.

For Bashō, mujô is the central aspect of his religious worldview. Worldview has been defined as what a "religion affirms about the ultimate nature of reality" and it functions as a frame of perception, a symbolic screen through which experience is interpreted.3 For Bashō, mujô shaped his vision of how life ultimately is and it lead to his view of how it ought to be, which he embodied in his wayfaring lifestyle.

THE JOURNALS OF MATSUO BASHŌ
source : Barnhill


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

kusa no to mo sumi—kawaru yo zo hina no ie

Even my grass hut
has changed into a home
for colourful dolls


This is from the opening haiku to Basho’s Narrow Road to the Deep North, which forms the first section of a renga sequence, consisting of 8 links, which Basho left on the outside post. The haiku is preceded by an adaptation to the preface of a poem by Li Po entitled On a Spring Night, Holding a Banquet at the Peach and Plum Gardens,

“Heaven and earth are like an inn, for all things are contained within the universe,
light and shadow are the travellers of a thousand generations,
Making this life nothing more than a floating dream.".


Legend and poetic myth record how Li Po, after a night of wine and poetry, boating on a lake, saw the reflection of the moon on water. In attempting to grasp it, he fell overboard and drowned.

- Tr. and Comment : Bill Wyatt


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 


The sponsor of Basho
. Sugiyama Sanpu, the crying Fishmonger .

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::



source : kiraku88.blogspot.jp

sanri ni kyuu 三里に灸 moxabustion on the point "sanri"

ashi no sanri 足の三里 the point SANRI on the leg, ST36
there is another one on the arm.

. WKD : day for the moxabustion, kyuu suebi 灸据え日 .
kigo for mid-spring

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: 


BACK TO
. Oku no Hosomichi - 奥の細道 - Introduction .



[ . BACK to DARUMA MUSEUM TOP . ]
[ . BACK to WORLDKIGO . TOP . ]

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::