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Ichiburi市振

Oku no Hosomichi (The Narrow Road to the Deep North) 奥の細道 · Matsuo Bashō · 1702 (printed, Genroku 15) · the journey of 1689 · 2 passages · 391 Chinese characters · reading time 1.0 min

Oku no Hosomichi (The Narrow Road to the Deep North) Complete in one volume "The months and days are the travelers of a hundred generations, and the years that come and go are travelers too" — the travel record of Bashō, who left Edo at forty-six and walked Ōshū and Hokuriku for five months. In the summer grass he sees the dreams of warriors, in the rock he hears the voice of the cicadas soaking in, and under one roof he likens the sleeping women of pleasure to bush clover and the moon. Wherever the prose comes to rest, a haiku is set down. Beside the pilgrim records of Faxian, Xuanzang, and Hyecho, this is one more road in this library.

1Ichiburi — young voices in the next room

今日は親不知子知らず犬もとり駒返しなどいふ北國一の難所をこえてつかれ侍れば枕引よせてねたるに一間へだてゝ西の方に若き女の聲二人ばかりと聞ゆ年よりたる男の聲も交りて物語するをきけば越後國新潟といふ處の遊女なりしいせ參宮するとて此關まで男の送りてあすは古鄕にかへす文したゝめてはかなき言傳などしやる也

Today I crossed the hardest places in the northern country, those called Oyashirazu and Koshirazu, Inumodori and Komagaeshi. I was worn out, so I drew my pillow to me and lay down. Beyond one room, on the west side, I heard the voices of young women, two of them it seemed. The voice of an older man was mixed with theirs. Listening to them talk, I learned that they were women of pleasure from a place called Niigata in the province of Echigo. They were going to worship at Ise, and the man had seen them as far as this barrier. Tomorrow they would send him back home, and they were writing a letter and giving him idle messages to carry.

2Under one roof, the women of pleasure asleep as well

白波のよする渚に身をはふらかしあまのこの世を淺ましう下りて定めなき契日々の業因いかにつたなしと物いふをきゝ〳〵ねいりて朝たび立に我らにむかひて行衞しらぬ旅路のうさ餘り覺束なうかなしく侍れば見へがくれにも御跡をしたひ侍ん衣のうへの御情に大悲のめぐみをたれて結緣せさせ給へと泪を落す不便の事には侍れども我らは所々にてとまるかた多したゞ人の行くにまかせて行くべし神明の加護必ずつゝがなかるべしといひすてゝ出つゝ哀さしばらくやまざりけらし 一家に遊女も寢たり萩と月 曾良にかたればかきとゝめ侍る

"We have let our bodies fall on the shore where the white waves come in, and like the children of fishermen we have drifted wretchedly down through this world. Our promises have nothing fixed in them, and the karma we make day after day — how poor a thing it is." I listened and listened to them talking, and fell asleep.

In the morning, as we were setting out, they turned to us and said, "The road we go is one whose end we do not know, and it is so uncertain and so sad. Let us follow behind you, even out of your sight. You wear the robe of a priest; out of that mercy let the great compassion be laid upon us and bind us to the Buddha's way." And they shed tears.

It was a pitiful thing, but I said, "We stop in many places. Simply go the way other people go. With the gods to guard you, you will surely come to no harm." I left those words behind and went out, but the pity of it did not leave me for a good while.

Under one roof / the women of pleasure slept as well — bush clover and the moon

I told this to Sora, and he wrote it down.