"Noh", or, Accomplishment : a study of the classical stage of Japan |
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 | "Noh", or, Accomplishment : |  |
PART SECOND
(The Waki has taken the posture of sleep.His respectful visit to the cave is beginning to
have its effect.)
Waki
(restless)
It seems that I cannot sleep
For the length of a pricket's horn.
Under October wind, under pines, under night!
I will do service to Butsu. [He performs the gestures of a ritual.
For the length of a pricket's horn.
Under October wind, under pines, under night!
I will do service to Butsu. [He performs the gestures of a ritual.
140
Aïe, honoured priest!
You do not dip twice in the river
Beneath the same tree's shadow
Without bonds in some other life.
Hear soothsay,
Now is there meeting between us,
Between us who were until now
In life and in after-life kept apart.
A dream-bridge over wild grass,
Over the grass I dwell in.
O honoured! do not awake me by force.
I see that the law is perfect.
You do not dip twice in the river
Beneath the same tree's shadow
Without bonds in some other life.
Hear soothsay,
Now is there meeting between us,
Between us who were until now
In life and in after-life kept apart.
A dream-bridge over wild grass,
Over the grass I dwell in.
O honoured! do not awake me by force.
I see that the law is perfect.
Shite
(supposedly invisible)
It is a good service you have done, sir,
A service that spreads in two worlds,
And binds up an ancient love
That was stretched out between them.
I had watched for a thousand days.
I give you largess,
For this meeting is under a difficult law.
And now I will show myself in the form of Nishikigi.
I will come out now for the first time in colour.
A service that spreads in two worlds,
And binds up an ancient love
That was stretched out between them.
I had watched for a thousand days.
I give you largess,
For this meeting is under a difficult law.
And now I will show myself in the form of Nishikigi.
I will come out now for the first time in colour.
141
The three years are over and past:
All that is but an old story.
All that is but an old story.
Shite
To dream under dream we return.
Three years. . . . And the meeting comes now!
This night has happened over and over,
And only now comes the tryst.
Three years. . . . And the meeting comes now!
This night has happened over and over,
And only now comes the tryst.
Chorus
Look there to the cave
Beneath the stems of the Suzuki.
From under the shadow of the love-grass,
See, see how they come forth and appear
For an instant. . . . Illusion!
Beneath the stems of the Suzuki.
From under the shadow of the love-grass,
See, see how they come forth and appear
For an instant. . . . Illusion!
Shite
There is at the root of hell
No distinction between princes and commons;
Wretched for me! 'tis the saying.
No distinction between princes and commons;
Wretched for me! 'tis the saying.
Waki
Strange, what seemed so very old a cave
Is all glittering-bright within,
Like the flicker of fire.
It is like the inside of a house.
They are setting up a loom,
And heaping up charm-sticks. No,
The hangings are out of old time.
Is it illusion, illusion?
Is all glittering-bright within,
Like the flicker of fire.
It is like the inside of a house.
142
And heaping up charm-sticks. No,
The hangings are out of old time.
Is it illusion, illusion?
Tsure
Our hearts have been in the dark of the falling
snow,
We have been astray in the flurry.
You should tell better than we
How much is illusion,
You who are in the world.
We have been in the whirl of those who are fading.
We have been astray in the flurry.
You should tell better than we
How much is illusion,
You who are in the world.
We have been in the whirl of those who are fading.
Shite
Indeed in old times Narihira said
(And he has vanished with the years),
"Let a man who is in the world tell the fact."
It is for you, traveller,
To say how much is illusion.
(And he has vanished with the years),
"Let a man who is in the world tell the fact."
It is for you, traveller,
To say how much is illusion.
Waki
Let it be a dream, or a vision,
Or what you will, I care not.
Only show me the old times over-past and snowed under;
Now, soon, while the night lasts.
Or what you will, I care not.
Only show me the old times over-past and snowed under;
Now, soon, while the night lasts.
143
Look, then, for the old times are shown,
Faint as the shadow-flower shows in the grass that bears it;
And you've but a moon for lanthorn.
Faint as the shadow-flower shows in the grass that bears it;
And you've but a moon for lanthorn.
Tsure
The woman has gone into the cave.
She sets up her loom there
For the weaving of Hosonuno,
Thin as the heart of Autumn.
She sets up her loom there
For the weaving of Hosonuno,
Thin as the heart of Autumn.
Shite
The suitor for his part, holding his charm-sticks,
Knocks on a gate which was barred.
Knocks on a gate which was barred.
Tsure
In old time he got back no answer,
No secret sound at all
Save . . .
No secret sound at all
Save . . .
Shite
. . . the sound of the loom.
Tsure
It was a sweet sound like katydids and crickets,
A thin sound like the Autumn.
A thin sound like the Autumn.
Shite
It was what you would hear any night.
144
Kiri.
Shite
Hatari.
Tsure
Cho.
Shite
Cho.
Chorus
(mimicking the sound of crickets)
Kiri, hatari, cho, cho,
Kiri, hatari, cho, cho.
The cricket sews on at his old rags,
With all the new grass in the field; sho,
Churr, isho, like the whirr of a loom: churr.
Kiri, hatari, cho, cho.
The cricket sews on at his old rags,
With all the new grass in the field; sho,
Churr, isho, like the whirr of a loom: churr.
Chorus
(antistrophe)
Let be, they make grass-cloth in Kefu,
Kefu, the land's end, matchless in the world.
Kefu, the land's end, matchless in the world.
Shite
That is an old custom, truly,
But this priest would look on the past.
But this priest would look on the past.
Chorus
The good priest himself would say:
Even if we weave the cloth, Hosonuno,
And set up the charm-sticks
For a thousand, a hundred nights;
Even then our beautiful desire will not pass,
Nor fade nor die out.
Even if we weave the cloth, Hosonuno,
145
For a thousand, a hundred nights;
Even then our beautiful desire will not pass,
Nor fade nor die out.
Shite
Even to-day the difficulty of our meeting is
remembered,
And is remembered in song.
And is remembered in song.
Chorus
That we may acquire power,
Even in our faint substance.
We will show forth even now,
And though it be but in a dream,
Our form of repentance. [Explaining the movement of the Shite and Tsure.
There he is carrying wands,
And she has no need to be asked.
See her within the cave,
With a cricket-like noise of weaving.
The grass-gates and the hedge are between them,
That is a symbol.
Night has already come on. [Now explaining the thoughts of the man's spirit.
Love's thoughts are heaped high within him,
As high as the charm-sticks,
As high as the charm-sticks, once coloured,
Now fading, lie heaped in this cave;
And he knows of their fading. He says:
I lie a body, unknown to any other man,
Like old wood buried in moss.
It were a fit thing
That I should stop thinking the love-thoughts,
The charm-sticks fade and decay,
And yet,
The rumour of our love
Takes foot, and moves through the world.
We had no meeting.
But tears have, it seems, brought out a bright blossom
Upon the dyed tree of love.
Even in our faint substance.
We will show forth even now,
And though it be but in a dream,
Our form of repentance. [Explaining the movement of the Shite and Tsure.
There he is carrying wands,
And she has no need to be asked.
See her within the cave,
With a cricket-like noise of weaving.
The grass-gates and the hedge are between them,
That is a symbol.
Night has already come on. [Now explaining the thoughts of the man's spirit.
146
As high as the charm-sticks,
As high as the charm-sticks, once coloured,
Now fading, lie heaped in this cave;
And he knows of their fading. He says:
I lie a body, unknown to any other man,
Like old wood buried in moss.
It were a fit thing
That I should stop thinking the love-thoughts,
The charm-sticks fade and decay,
And yet,
The rumour of our love
Takes foot, and moves through the world.
We had no meeting.
But tears have, it seems, brought out a bright blossom
Upon the dyed tree of love.
Shite
Tell me, could I have foreseen
Or known what a heap of my writings
Should lie at the end of her shaft-bench?
Or known what a heap of my writings
Should lie at the end of her shaft-bench?
Chorus
A hundred nights and more
Of twisting, encumbered sleep,
And now they make it a ballad,
Not for one year or for two only,
But until the days lie deep
As the sand's depth at Kefu.
Until the year's end is red with autumn,
Red like these love-wands,
A thousand nights are in vain.
I, too, stand at this gate-side:
You grant no admission, you do not show yourself
Until I and my sleeves are faded.
By the dew-like gemming of tears upon my sleeve,
Why will you grant no admission?
And we all are doomed to pass
You, and my sleeves and my tears.
And you did not even know when three years had come to an end.
Cruel, ah, cruel!
The charm-sticks . . .
Of twisting, encumbered sleep,
And now they make it a ballad,
147
But until the days lie deep
As the sand's depth at Kefu.
Until the year's end is red with autumn,
Red like these love-wands,
A thousand nights are in vain.
I, too, stand at this gate-side:
You grant no admission, you do not show yourself
Until I and my sleeves are faded.
By the dew-like gemming of tears upon my sleeve,
Why will you grant no admission?
And we all are doomed to pass
You, and my sleeves and my tears.
And you did not even know when three years had come to an end.
Cruel, ah, cruel!
The charm-sticks . . .
Shite
. . . were set up a thousand times;
Then, now, and for always.
Chorus
Shall I ever at last see into that secret bride-room,
which no other sight has traversed?
148
Happy at last and well-starred,
Now comes the eve of betrothal:
We meet for the wine-cup.
Now comes the eve of betrothal:
We meet for the wine-cup.
Chorus
How glorious the sleeves of the dance,
That are like snow-whirls!
That are like snow-whirls!
Shite
Tread out the dance.
Chorus
Tread out the dance and bring music.
This dance is for Nishikigi.
This dance is for Nishikigi.
Shite
This dance is for the evening plays,
And for the weaving.
And for the weaving.
Chorus
For the tokens between lover and lover:
It is a reflecting in the wine-cup.
It is a reflecting in the wine-cup.
Chorus
Ari-aki,
The dawn!
Come, we are out of place;
Let us go ere the light comes. [To the Waki.
We ask you, do not awake,
We all will wither away,
The wands and this cloth of a dream.
Now you will come out of sleep,
You tread the border and nothing
Awaits you: no, all this will wither away.
There is nothing here but this cave in the field's midst.
To-day's wind moves in the pines;
A wild place, unlit, and unfilled.
The dawn!
Come, we are out of place;
Let us go ere the light comes. [To the Waki.
149
We all will wither away,
The wands and this cloth of a dream.
Now you will come out of sleep,
You tread the border and nothing
Awaits you: no, all this will wither away.
There is nothing here but this cave in the field's midst.
To-day's wind moves in the pines;
A wild place, unlit, and unfilled.
FINIS
| "Noh", or, Accomplishment : | |