- Top
- -
- Taketori Monogatari
Over sea and hills, I spent my heart upon the road; no sacred bowl found— from the bowl that was not there, blood-red tears flowed at last.
I searched far and wide, over seas and mountains, exhausting my heart upon the road, yet the sacred bowl was nowhere to be found—and so blood-red tears came to flow.
Even the light of resting dew might well lodge— on Mount Ogura, what was it you sought?
If it were truly the Buddha’s stone begging bowl, there would be at least a glimmer of light like dew; yet this bowl is nothing but blackened stone—what, on Mount Ogura, were you seeking?
Before Mount White, might even light be lost? Though I cast away the bowl, I still place my hope.
Before your Mount White–like brilliance, might even light be lost? Even after casting away the bowl and forgetting my shame, I still place my hopes in you.
Though idly I would cast my life away, Had I not plucked the jeweled branch, I would not have returned.
Even if I had cast my life away in vain, had I not plucked the jeweled branch of Hōrai, I would not have returned. (Because I have brought back the jeweled branch of Hōrai, I will not return until my suit is answered.)
With boundless longing, the fur robe burned not; The sleeves, once wet, are now dried— Today at last I will wear it.
Though scorched by boundless longing, the fur robe did not burn; even the sleeves once soaked with tears have dried. Today at last, I will wear this robe.
Had I but known it would burn without a trace, The fur robe, I would have set it aside and only looked.
Had I known it would burn away without a trace, I would not have cast the fur robe into the fire but only looked on. (Because I did not know it was a counterfeit, I feared it might be genuine and tested it by fire.)
Of Kure bamboo, through generations, the bamboo cutter— though in fields and hills, we saw not only such bitter turns.
We who have lived by cutting bamboo through generation after generation—even when we have dwelt in the fields and hills—have not known only such bitter trials.
My sleeves today are dried; so of wretchedness, the thousand kinds will surely be forgotten.
Today my sleeves, once wet with brine and tears, have dried; and so the countless kinds of wretchedness will surely be forgotten.
Hearing it as true, I went to look—and found: words, ornamented— a jeweled branch.
Hearing the tale, and thinking it true, I went to look—only to find a jeweled branch ornamented with words.
Over the years, no waves ever come ashore at Sumi-no-e; I hear there is no use in waiting— is that truly so?
Though many years pass as I wait for you to bring me the Cowry of Safe Childbirth, I hear that you say there is no use in waiting because you could not obtain it—is that truly so?
There was no use at all; worn out with grief to the end, this dying life— will you not save it, if you can?
Since there was, in truth, no Cowry at all, will you not save this life of mine that is worn out with grief and dying?
The homeward royal return weighs heavy on my heart, for she turns away and stays behind— Kaguya-hime.
Because Kaguya-hime turns away from my wish and remains at the bamboo cutter’s house, the imperial return home weighs heavily on my heart.
Beneath tangled weeds, years have passed for one like me— how could I ever behold a jeweled dais?
For one like me, who has passed the years beneath tangled weeds in this bamboo cutter’s house, how could I ever behold a jeweled dais?
Now at this moment, when I don the heavenly robe— only now I know how dear you were to me.
Now, as I don the heavenly robe at this final moment, I have come to know anew how dear you are to me.
Even meeting you floats on tears—my very self; to one like me, what use is the drug that grants no death?
Even the thought of meeting you rises upon my tears; to one like me, what meaning is there in a drug that grants immortality?