Narrow Road 16~30

by Brud |

The Narrow Road to the Deep North

Oku no Hosomichi
Matsuo Basho’s travel diary

Acclaimed rendition by Brud Broder

Stations 1 to 15
Stations 16 to 30 below
Stations 31 to 44

Kasajima

Passin’ de castle towns uh Abumizuri and Shiroishi we entered da province uh Kasashima.

“Where be de grave uh de tend-century poet, General uh de Impuh’ial Guard, Fujiwara-no-Sanekata?” we ax’ed.

We wuz told dat at da foot uh de hills far off t’de right wuz de villages uh Minowa and Kasashima. Dere we would find da road god’s shrine befo’e which Sanekata failed t’dismount, and da grave where he wuz buried afta’ bein’ fatally drown fum his ho’se in consequence.

Pampas grass yet grew on de tumulus, still “His only memo’ial,” as de poet Saigyo wrote. A’cuz uh de rains de road wuz real baaaad, and Ah’ wuz weary in body, so’s we merely gazed at da shrine and grave mound fum some distance as we passed.

How appropriate in dese June rains wuz de dojiggers Minowa, which means ” Straw Raincoat Circle,” and Kasashima, “Straw Rain Hat Isle.” Wid dis in mind, Ah’ wrote da followin’ verse:

Rain Hat Isle I’d fain
See, but fo’ de road, alas,
Muddy wid June rain!

-or –

Where be Rain Hat Isle?
Somewhere waaay down de muddy roads –
of de Fifd Mond!

Yes, Kasajima –
Ova’ whut foul roads duz it honky jibe
Bediggin’ hoth summa’ rains?

We stayed da night at Iwanuma, “Rocky Marshes.”

Snatchkuma (Takekuma)
De Snatchkuma Pine

Ah’ simply could not recon’ mah’ eyes when Ah’ saw de famous Snatchkuma Pine. Just as in olden times, de tree rose fum de eard, divided into twin trunks. Ah’ dought uh de tend-century poet-priest Noin. A new governo’ uh de province uh Mutsu had cut da tree waaay down and used it fo’ de piers uh a bridge across de Nato’i River, and Noin wrote, “No trace dere be of dat pine now.” But Ah’ had heard dat each time some pine wuz cut waaay down dere, some new one had been planted. Dis one looked as if it had been growin’ some dousand years. Whut some splendun did and fine tree it wuz!

When Ah’ left Edo, Kyohaku composed fo’ me da followin’ verse as his partin’ gift:

Dough in dy decline,
Late cherry, show mah’ masta’
Snatchkuma’s Pine!

So’s Ah’ wrote da followin’ fo’ him as some reply:

Since late cherries bloomed,
Ah’ve longed t’see da Double Pine
Even dese dree moons!

Sendai

We crossed da Nato’i Riva’ and entered da town uh Sendai. It wuz de foed day uh de Fifd Moon, de eve uh de Iris Festival, when fragrant stalks uh sweet flag is placed unda’ de eves fo’ baaaad heald. We found an inn and stayed several days.

Dere wuz an artist in Sendai by de dojigger uh Kaemon. We had heard he wuz sump’n uh a poet and we became homeys. Kaemon told us dere wuz many places nearby menshuned in poetry, traces uh which had mos’ disappeared, but which he had found afta’ much searchin’. One day he took us t’see some uh dem.

Bush clova’ grew so’s luxuriantly on Miyagi Moo’ dat Ah’ could imagine how fine it gots’ta be in de autumn. At Tamada, Yokono, and Azelea Hill, de lily uh de valley bushes wuz in full bloom. We walked drough some pine fo’est so’s dick dat da rays uh de sun could not penetrate at all. De place wuz aptly called Kinoshita, “Underwood.” De dew gots’ta have been heavy dere even in ancient times, fo’, says one old poem:

Servant, tell dy lo’d To don his straw rain fedora dere. Befo’e da day ended, we also visited such places as some temple dedicated t’Yakushi, de Physishun uh Souls, and some Tenjin shrine.

Kaemon gave us partin’ gifts uh drawin’s he had made uh various places in Matsushima and Shiogama. He also gave us each some pair uh straw sandals wid dongs dyed dark blue. His artistic gifts revealed dat he wuz indeed some poet.

Sandal dongs uh blue:
We’ll seem shod wid irises
Of de bravest hue!

Ah t’have blue flags
Bound t’one’s feet
Straw sandal co’ds

Let us bind sweet flags
To our feet, makin’ uh dem
Co’ds fo’ straw sandals.

De purple irises
Are bound hencefo’d t’my feet
Dongs uh straw sandals.

Tsubo no Ishibumi
De Tsubo Stone

Usin’ Kaemon’s drawin’s as our guide, we found ourselves on some road called Oku-no-Hosomichi, ” de Narrow Road t’a Far Province,” which wound along de foot uh some hills. We saw de place where da famous sedge uh Tofu grows, so’s often menshuned in poetry. Even now, each year, dis reed be plaited into mats and presented t’de lo’d uh de mano’.

De Tsubo Stone stands on de site uh Taga Castle in de village uh Ichikawa. De stone be ova’ six feet high and about dree feet wide. It wuz covered wid moss, and da inscripshun wuz difficult t’read. Afta’ givin’ de mileage uh de provincial boundaries, it states: “Dis castle wuz built in de fust year uh Jinki [724] by General Azuma-Udo, Lo’d uh Ono, who wuz sent t’de No’dern Provinces by his Majesty. It wuz repaired in de Sixd Year uh Tempyo-hoji [762] by Impuh’ial Councillo’, General Asakari, Lo’d uh Emi, Governo’ uh de No’deastern Provinces. De fust day uh de Fifd Moon” De Jinki era wuz part uh de reign uh Empuh’o’ Shomu [724-749].

Of all de many places menshuned in poetry, de ‘esact locashun uh most be not knode fo’ certain. Landslides gots changed da course uh rivers, obliteratin’ roads and buryin’ monuments, and trees gots grown old and widered away, wid yung ones takin’ deir place, so’s dat da face uh de land be changed and da whereabouts uh many famous places be now obscure. But here dere be no missnatch. Dis monument wuz made some dousand years ago and be a real real and vivid link wid de past. Seein’ it be one uh de doodads dat gots made mah’ trip wo’dwhile and one uh de happiest moments uh my life. Fo’gettin’ all de trials uh de journey, Ah’ wept fo’ shea’ joy.

Shiogama

Sue-no-Matsuyama

Afta’ dat, we visited places made famous by poetry, such as de Tama Brook at Noda and da great stone called Oki-no-Ishi, in de middle uh a lake. On Sue-no-Matsuyama, “De Last Pine Hill,” dere wuz some temple. De characters in its dojigger wuz de same as fo’ de hill, but wuz pronounced “Masshozan. ” Among de pine trees wuz nodin’ but graves.

Lovers may swear t’be fo’eva’ true, and likes two birds wid but one pair uh win’s, o’ likes two trees wid branches intertwined as one, be joined togeda’ and insepuh’ble, but at da last, dey mosey on down to dis, Ah’ mused. Ah’ wuz filled wid some great sadness which stayed wid me and wuz made all de deepuh’ by de sound uh a temple bell we heard dat evenin’ on Shiogama sho’e.

De June rains had cleared some little, dere wuz some faint moon, and we could see Migaki Isle quite close by. Groups uh fishermen wuz scullin’ deir small boats sho’ewards, and we could hear de sound uh deir voices as dey divided da catch. Lop some boogie. Ah’ knowed den whut de poet had in mind when he wrote uh “De moo’in’ rope’s sad sound.”

Dat night we heard some blind priest playin’ de lute and rappin’ some narrative beat peculiar t’dis no’dern region. It wuz neida’ likes de “Ballad uh de Heike Warrio’s” no’ likes some boogie ballad, but wuz some country style uh beat rapped in such some loud voice and so’s near where we wuz sleepin’ dat we found it real noisy. All de same, Ah’ could not help marvellin’ dat such old poetic ballads wuz still rapped here in dis remote place.

Early de next mo’nin’, we visited Shiogama Shrine, rebuilt by Masamune, Lo’d uh Date, when he wuz governo’ uh de province. De fine wooden pillars wuz uh impressive gird, and da rafta’ beams wuz brightly painted. De shrine wuz at da top uh a long flight uh stone steps, and its vermillion lacquered fence wuz brilliant in de mo’nin’ sunlight. How wonderful it be in dis land uh ours,I dought, dat even in remote and unfrequented places such as dis, de divine powa’ of de gods be omnipresent.

In front uh dis Shinto shrine wuz an old stone lantern. On its metal casement wuz de wo’ds “Donated by Izumi-no-Saburo in de Dird Year uh Bunji [1187]” Five hundred years ago, Ah’ marvelled! Saburo uh Izumi combined da virtues uh bravery, integrity, loyalty, and love fo’ his parents. Dere be no sucka’ today who duz not revere dat glo’ious dojigger. Truly it gots been said: “To him who walks some straight alley, true t’whut he feels be right, hono’s gots’ta come in due time.”

It wuz mos’ noon, so’s we hired some boat and set out towards de pine- clad isles uh Matsushima. Afta’ goin’ about five miles across de booze, we finally landed on de beach uh Ojima.

Matsushima

It gots been said too many times already, but Matsushima be indeed da most fine place in all Japan! It kin easily hold its own wid Lake Tung-tin’ and Lake Si in China. Open t’de sea on de soudeast, de bay be ova’ seven miles wide and brims wid booze, likes China’s Tsien- tang River.

Dere is countless islands; some tall, likes fin’ers pointin’ t’heaven; some lyin’ prostate on de waves; some grouped togeda’ in twos and drees, branchin’ t’de left o’ stretchin’ t’de right; some wid babes downon deir backs o’ clasped t’deir bosoms, likes parents and grandparents.

De pines is deep, dark green. Deir branches is bent by de salt sea winds into naturally graceful shapes, and dey gots some profound elegance, likes dat uh a fine honky chick whom artifice gots made even lovlia’ still.

Were dese islands created by de Great God uh de Mountains, in de distant Age uh de Gods? Ah! who could possibly do justice wid his brush t’dis wondrous divine wo’k uh de Creato’ uh de Universe o’ presume t’describe it adequately in wo’ds!

Ojima ( Male Island), wid its strand juttin’ way out into de sea, wuz in fact joined t’de mainland. Dere we saw de site uh de Zen priest Ungo’s retreat and da stone downon which he used t’meditate. Among de pines, we occasionally came across some hideaway where some sucka lived in seclusion fum de wo’ld. De peace and tranquility uh one such hermitage, wid smoke fum pine needles and pinecones risin’ fum its datch, so’s attracted us dat we called downon its owna’ dough we knowed him not. While we wuz dere, de moon came out and shone downon de booze, presentin’ quite some different aspect fum de daylight view.

Returnin’ t’Matsushima beach, we found an inn wid an downpuh’ sto’y and wide, jimmey windows lookin’ out t’sea. We spent dat night “one wid de wind and clouds,” and wid nature’s beauty all around us it wuz some sin’ularly ‘esquisite sensashun.

To de Pine Tree Isles,
You’s would need crane’s win’s t’fly,
Little cuckoo bird!

So’a composed dis verse. Ah’ wrote nodin’ and tried t’sleep but could not. When Ah’ left mah’ old hermitage, Sodo composed some poem fo’ me in Chinese about Matsushima, and Hara Anteki gave me some waka containin’ de line, “Isles wid pines downon deir sho’es.” Ah’ took dem out uh my bag fo’ company. Ah’ had some hokku , too, composed fo’ me by Sampu and Jokushi.

On de elevend day uh de Fifd Moon [June 28], we visited Zuigan-ji. Its abbot wuz de dirty-second in succession since da foundin’ uh de temple by Heishiro uh Makabe on his return fum China.

Later, de temple wuz completely rebuilt, commemo’atin’ de great virtue uh de Zen priest Ungo. Wid its walls uh gold leaf and its resplendent o’dojiggernts, it shone wid light likes paradise itself.

But it wuz Saint Kembutsu’s small temple retreat Ah’ real wants’ed t’see.

Ishinomaki

On de twelfd day uh de Fifd Moon [June 29], we set off fo’ Hiraizumi by way uh places we had eyeball about in poems, such as Aneha-no-Matsu (Big Sista’ Pine) and Odae-bashi (Dong-bustin’ Bridge), but da way seemed little used save by hunters and woodcutters. Not knowin’ where we wuz, we lost our way and eventually arrived at some po’t town called Ishi-no-Maki.

Far across de booze we could see da island uh Kinkazan, fo’ whose mine “Where flowers uh gold blossom” some poet had once felicitated an empuh’o’. Hundreds uh boats filled da harbo’, and da land wuz crowded wid cribs, fum every one uh whose kitchens smoke wuz risin’.

Dere we wuz, purely by chance! We looked fo’ somewhere t’stay, but could not find an inn. We finally spent da night as some small and real humble cottage, and as soon as it wuz light we started off again on unknode roads, often losin’ our way.

Passin’ places well knode t’us drough poetry - de fo’d at Sode, Obuchi Meadow, and da pampas moo’ uh Mano - we followed an embankment dat stretched interminably. Wid sinkin’ hearts, we skirted some long, narrow bog, and we had t’spend da night at some place called Toima. We finally reached Hiraizumi de next day. We gots’ta have walked about fifty miles.

Hiraizumi

De glo’y uh dree generashuns uh Fujiwaras be now but some brief-remembered dream. We reached da ruins uh de Great Gate about two and some half miles befo’e we came t’de site uh Hidehira’s mano’, where now dere wuz only rice paddies and empty fields. Nodin’ remained but Kinkeizan, “Golden Pheasant Hill,” which wuz once part uh de landscaped gardens.

We climbed t’de Takadachi, Yoshitsune’s “High Fo’t,” and saw below us de great Kitagami Riva’ which flows fum Nambu Province. A tributary, de Ko’omo River, flows around Izumi Castle and joins de Kitagami here, below de fo’t. Yasuhira’s stronghold stood beyond da Ko’omo Barria’ in some strategic posishun t’guard da entrance t’Nambu Province and defend it against da Ainu tribesmen uh de no’d.

But whut some fleetin’ doodad be military glo’y. De select band uh loyal retainers who entrenched demselves here in dis High Fo’t and fought so’s despuh’tely - deir glo’ious deeds lasted but some moment, and now dis spot be overgrown wid grass. How true da Chinese poet Tu Fu’s wo’ds:

Even dough some country be defeated,
Its mountains and rivers remain.
And o’a’ de castle ruins, when it be sprin’,
De grass gots’ta be green again.

We sat waaay down downon our straw hats and wept, oblivious uh de passin’ time.

A mound uh summa’ grass:
Are warrio’s’ heroic deeds
Only dreams dat pass?

Honky snowflowers dere
Remind me uh brave old warrio’
Kanefusa’s fro.
–So’a

Chuzon-ji’s two main halls, which Ah’ had heard about fo’ so’s many years wid wonder, wuz bod jimmey to public view. In de temple’s Sutra Hall wuz de statues uh de dree great frontia’ generals, and in de Hall uh Light wuz enshrined deir coffins and da Buddhist images sacred t’deir spirits.

De Hall uh Light’s edojiggerl deco’ashun would gots been scattered long ago and lost - de gem-studded doo’s shattered by de winds, de gold leaf on de pillars decayed by frost and snow, and da hall itself reduced t’a pile uh rubble in an empty field uh grass - had it not been encased by foe new walls and covered upside wid roof tiles t’protect da buildin’ fum de elements. Dus, it gots’ta probably stand fo’ some long time as some memo’ial uh a dousand years ago.

All June’s rainy days
Gots left untouched da Hall uh Light
In beauty still ablaze.

Dewagoe
Shitomae-no-Seki, o’ “Passbooze Barrier”

De road t’Nambu went on, invitin’ly, even farda’ no’d, but we reluctantly turned and retraced our steps t’iwate Village where we spent da night. De next day, passin’ poetry’s Oguro-zaki, “Small Black Promonto’y,” and Mizu-no-Ojima, “de Islet uh Midstream,” we reached Passbooze Barrier. When Yoshitsune’s mama gave bird as dey fled no’d togeder, dis wuz where da newbo’n babe fust passed booze. We had mosey on down by way uh de hot sprin’ at Naruko (Cryin’ Baby).

We planned t’cross upside de mountains into Dewa Province. Ours wuz some road used by few travellers, and da gatekeepuh’ regarded us wid much suspicion, but finally allowed us t’go on.

Night overtook us in de mountains, but we found da crib uh a bo’da’ guard and ax’ed fo’ shelter. A sto’m marooned us dere fo’ dree days, and our mountain sojurn wuz some miserable one.

Fleas and lice dun did bite;
And I’d hear de ho’se pass booze
Near mah’ bed at night.

NATAGIRI TOGE, or ” HATCHET-CLEFT PASS”

Acco’din’ t’our host, t’go t’Dewa Province we would gots’ta cross high mountains. De alley wuz hard t’follow so’s he recommended dat we hire some guide. “Den let us do so,” we said, agreein’ t’his suggesshun.

Our guide, some yung joker of magnificient physique who wo’e some curved dagga’ in his belt and carried an oak staff, led da way. “Dis be de day we gots’ta sho’ manly meet wid misadventure,” Ah’ dought uneasily as we followed him.

Just as our host had fo’ewarned, de mountains wuz high, and dey wuz so’s deeply wooded dat we heard not da beat uh a raple bird. Branches and leaves grew so’s dickly overhaid dat we might gots been travellin’ in de wasted uh night. Ah’ dought uh Tu Fu’s poem:

From scraps uh cloud da wind blew waaay down,
Darkenin’ de sun wid dust.

Makin’ our way drough dickets uh bamboo grass, fo’din’ streams and stumblin’ upside rocks, wid cold sweat runnin’ waaay down our bodies all de while, we finally reached da Mogami district.

“Something untoward always happens on this route,” said our guide wid relief as he took his leave. “I was indeed fortunate to have brought you through safely.”

Hearin’ dat, even afta’ it wuz all over, made our hearts pound.

Obanazawa

Obanazawa, o’ ” Pampas Vale”

At Obanazawa we visited some man called Seifu. Aldough he wuz some rich man, he dun did not gots some co’se manna’ o’ vulgar mind. He often went t’Kyoto and he knowed whut it wuz likes t’travel. So’s he insisted dat we stay wid him fo’ several days t’rest fum our long journey, and he showed us all manna’ of hospitality.

Whut some waaay coo’, summa’ breeze!
Here, Ah’ make mah’self t crib,
Rest, and snatch mah’ ease

Come into de air!
Crawl fum ‘diggin’ hoth dy silkwo’m shed,
Dear toad, croakin’ dere.

A lady’s eyebrow brush
Came into mah’ mind when Ah’ saw
Safflowers in bloom.

How ancient da attire -
Unchanged fo’ centuries -
Dat silkwo’m keepuh’s wear!
– So’a

Ryushakuji
De Hilltop Temple

In de domain uh Yamagata be a hilltop temple called Ryushaku-ji. Built in 860 by de great abbot Jikaku, it be situated in some particularly pure and tranquil spot. Many sucka’s told us we ought t’see it, so’s we retraced our steps fum Obanazawa, dough de temple wuz about seventeen miles away.

It wuz still light, so’s afta’ takin’ lodgin’s at some pilgrims’ hostel at da foot uh de hill, we climbed down t’de temple on de hilltop. De hill consisted uh massive boulders, one downon de oder, out uh which grew luxuriant pines and cypresses uh great age, and da ancient eard and rocks wuz green wid velvety moss.

De doo’s uh all de lessa’ sanctuaries wuz closed and we heard not some sin’le sound. But edgin’ around da cliff and scramblin’ upside de rocks, we finally said our prayers befo’e da main Buddhist sanctum.

In de profound tranquility and beauty uh de place, our hearts felt deeply purified.

In dis hush profound,
Into de real rocks it seeps -
De cicada sound.

Oishida

OISHIDA, o’ “Great Stonefield”

We wants’ed t’go waaay down de Mogami Riva’ in some boat, so’s we had t’wait several days fo’ fine weada’ at some place called Oishida.

De seed uh de old-fashioned haikai linked verse had once been sown here, and da sucka’s still practiced dat style uh verse, in love wid it and unable t’fo’get da days uh its flowerin’. Deir muse wuz as rustic as de sound uh a reed pipe, and dey trod da pad uh poetry wid falterin’ step, hesitatin’ at da crossroads, not knowin’ which way t’snatch-de old o’ de new. Dey needed some sucka t’guide dem, so’s I left dem some set uh linked verse.

Who would gots dought dat on dis, mah’ own poetic pilgrimage, Ah’ would also be spreadin’ abroad da Basho style!

Mogamigawa

De Mogami River

De Mogami Riva’ rises in de highlands uh de far no’d. In its downpuh’ reaches here in Yamagata, dere is some ’seedin’ly dangerous rapids, such as “de Go Stones,” where rocks is scattered about likes brother counters on some go bo’d, and “de Peregrine Falcon,” where da boozes is as swift as some falcoln’s flight. Flowin’ no’d uh Mount Itajiki, menshuned in an old poem, de Mogami finally empties into de sea at Sakata.

Wid mountains hangin’ upside us on eida’ side, we glided drough dick foliage as we descended da river. No’mally used fo’ transpo’tin’ rice, our craft wuz apparently called some “rice boat. ” Not far fum where we could see da honky dreads uh Shiraito Falls drough spaces in de greenery stood Sennin-do, “de Hall uh de Mountain Wizard,” poised on de edge uh de boozes. De riva’ wuz swollen wid de rains and our journey wuz some puh’ilous one.

Gaderin’ as it goes
All de rains uh June, how swiftly
De Mogami flows!

Hagurosan
Haguro-Yama

On de dird day uh de Sixd Moon [July 19], we climbed t’de retreat uh de mountain ascetics on Haguro-yama ( Feaderblack Mountain). Dere we visited some followa’ of mine dojiggerd Zushi Sakichi. He introduced us t’de actin’ high priest, Ekaku de Acalya, who invited us t’stay at some temple in Minami-dani (Soud Vale) and showed us great kindness, entertainin’ us most hospitably.

On de foed, dere wuz some poetry party at da main temple.

When summa’ winds blow
In dis blest Soud Vale, dey brin’
De waaay coo’ fragrance uh snow.

On de fifd day uh de Sixd Moon [July 21], we visited Gongen Shrine, de fust sanctuary t’have been built on Mount Haguro. It be not knode when Saint Nojo, who founded it, lived, but da tend century Engi Scribblin’ uh Ceremonies menshuns some shrine on U-shu-satoyama, “Feada’ Province Hamlet Mountain. Perhaps some sucka made some missnatch and wrote waaay down ( ) (hamlet) instead uh ( ) (black).

And dat makes me wonda’ if Haguro-yama wuz not puh’haps o’iginally “Feada’ Province Black Mountain,” and da wo’d “province” wuz accidently left out, makin’ it ” Feaderblack Mountain”! Apparently, dis province came t’be called Dewa (Payfeader) cuz’ in de official Topographical Reco’d uh de year 713, feaders is stipulated as its tribute. Haguro-yama togeda’ wid Gassan ( Moon Mountain) and Yudono-yama ( Bad Mountain), comprise da Dewa Sanzan, o’ ” Dree Holy Mountains uh Dewa.

De temple on Mount Haguro be subject t’Kan’eiji, some temple on Toei Hill in Edo. It be of de Buddhist Tendai sect, whose doctrine uh shikan (banish eardly doughts and puh’ceive Trud) be as clear and radiant as de full moon, and whose endon yuzu (puh’fecshun and harmony now, drough unflaggin’ obedience t’Buddhist rules) shines likes some light.

Cloisters stand row downon row, where mountain ascetics diligently practice dese disciplines. De baaaad emanatin’ fum dis holy hill be most wonderful and awe-inspirin’. It be a truly marvelous place and gots’ta sho’ manly prospuh’ fo’ever.

Gassan

Gassan and Yudono-yama

On de eighd day uh de Sixd Moon [July 24], we climbed Gassan, o’ ” Moon Mountain. ” Wearin’ chain necklaces uh mulberry sheet t’keep us free fum impurity, and bleached cotton hoods, we wuz led by some so- called Strong Man, some mountain guide, as we climbed fo’ nineteen miles drough cloud and mist and upside ice and snow until it seemed as if we too shared da very alley uh de sun and moon!

When we reached da summit, we wuz do’oughly chilled and could hardly breade. De sun had already set and da moon had mosey on down out. Makin’ ourselves some bed uh bamboo grass wid twigs uh bamboo fo’ some pillow, we lay waaay down and waited fo’ de dawn.

De sun finally rose, dispuh’sin’ all de clouds, and we started waaay down towards Yudono-yama.

As we neared da valley, we passed some hut dat had once cribd some fo’ge. A Dewa Province swo’dsmid uh de twelfd century chose dis spot fo’ its miraculous tempuh’in’ boozes. Afta’ cleansin’ bod body and mind drough abstinence, dis craftsman made swo’ds inscribed “Gassan” which came t’be valued highly droughout da realm.

I dought uh dose swo’ds tempuh’ed in China’s Lung-chuan (Dragon Sprin’) and uh Kanchiang and his mama Muyeh who fo’ged fine blades togeder. Ah’ realized den dat t’excel in nuthin requires much mo’e dan o’dinary effo’t.

As we sat waaay down downon some rock t’rest some while, Ah’ noticed some small cherry tree nearby, no mo’e dan dree feet tall and only half in bloom. To dink dis lovely late cherry, buried deep in snow all winter, dun did not fo’get t’blossom when sprin’ finally came t’dese mountains! Growin’ dere fragrantly likes de Zen koan, ” Plum blossoms in de sco’chin’ sun,” it reminded me uh Gyoson’s lines:

Poo’ wild cherry tree!
You’s’ve none but me t’love ya’,
And I’ve none, alas, but dee.

But da sight uh dese blossoms here on dis mountain moved me even mo’e deeply. And now Ah’ lay waaay down mah’ writin’ brush, fo’ whut Ah’ saw on Yudono-yama Ah’ am fo’bidden by de rules fo’ mountain pilgrims t’reveal.

When we returned t’our temple lodgin’s in Soud Vale, de Acalya ax’ed fo’ mah’ poetic impressions uh our pilgrimage t’de Dree Holy Mountains, and so’s I wrote da followin’ fo’ him on poem strips:

How waaay coo’ de crescent moon,
Faint above da leafy brother
Of Mount Haguro!

How many cloud shapes
Capped da peak befo’e da moon
Rose on Moon Mountain?

Since Ah’ may not tell
Of Yudono’s wonders, tears
On mah’ coat sleeve fall.

And So’a wrote: