May 19, 2021

Ryokan, Eleven Poems

Ryokan: Eleven Poems

translation Ad Blankestijn


(1)
it's not that
I never fraternize
with the world -
but I'm better at
playing by myself

yo no naka ni
majiranu to niwa
arenedomo
hitori-asobi zo
ware wa masareru

世の中に
まじらぬとには
あらねども
ひとり遊びぞ
我はまされる


(2)
in the village
I bounce a temari ball
with the children -
let this spring day
not turn to dusk!

kono sato ni
temari tsukitsutsu
kodomora to
asobu haruhi wa
kurezu tomo yoshi


この里に
手鞠つきつつ
子どもらと
遊ぶ春日は
暮れずともよし


(3)
wait for the
light of the moon
before you head home:
on the mountain trail
chestnut shells are scattered

tsukuyomi no
hikari wo machite
kaerimase
yamaji wa kuri no
iga no otsureba

月よみの
光を待ちて
帰りませ
山路は栗の
毬のおつれば


(4)
without telling
the tainted world:
"be clean"
the water of the mountain stream
is pure on its own

nigoru yo o
sumetomo yowazu
waga narini
sumashite misuru
tanogawa no mizu


濁る世を
澄めともいはず
わがなりに
澄まして見する
谷川の水


(5)
in my begging bowl
violets and dandelions
are mixed together
I wish to offer them
to the Buddhas of the Three Worlds

hachinoko ni
sumire tanpopo
kokimazete
Miyo no Hotoke ni
tatematsuritena

鉢の子に
菫たんぽぽ
こきまぜて
三世の仏に
たてまつりてむ


(6)
I forgot
and left my begging bowl
but no one took it
no one took it
my pitiable begging bowl

hachinoko o
waga wasururedomo
toru hito wa nashi
toru hito wa nashi
hachinoko aware


鉢の子を
わが忘るれども
取る人はなし
取る人はなし
鉢の子あはれ


(7)
left behind
by the thief:
the moon in my window

nusubito ni
torinokosareshi
mado no tsuki


盗人に
とり残されし
窓の月


(8)
in the village
flute and drum
are sounding
here on the hill
only the rustling of pine trees

satobe ni wa
fue ya tsuzumi no
oto sunari
miyama wa matsu no
koe bakari shite


里べには
笛や鼓の
音すなり
み山は松の
声ばかりして


(9)
with a hand towel
I hide my old face
the Bon dance

tenugui de
toshi wo kakusu ya
Bon-odori

手ぬぐいで
年をかくすや
盆踊


(10)
showing its back side
showing its front side
a falling maple leaf

ura wo mise | omote wo misete | chiru momiji

うらをみせ
おもてを見せて
ちるもみじ

 
(11)
I would like to leave
something as a memento:
flowers in spring
cuckoos in summer
tinted leaves in fall

katami tote
nanika nokosan
haru wa hana
natsu hototogisu
aki wa momijiba


形見とて
何か残さむ
春の花
夏ほととぎす
秋は紅葉ば



[Statue of Ryokan in his birthplace Izumosaki]


Ryokan (1758-1831) was a Soto Zen priest who never headed a temple but choose to live alone in a tiny mountain hut, begging his food, and playing games with the village children. But Ryokan who was also a writer of unusual and highly personal poetry in Japanese (tanka, haiku) and Chinese (kanshi), and a master calligrapher.

His poems mainly record his daily activities - begging expeditions to town, chores like carrying his firewood, lonely snowbound winters (he lived in Niigata's snow country!), and meetings with friends. They also demonstrate the rich spiritual and intellectual life Ryokan enjoyed despite his poverty.

Ryokan was born as Yamamoto Eizo in the village of Izumozaki in Echigo Province (now Niigata Prefecture) to the village headman. He renounced the world at an early age to train at a nearby Soto Zen temple, where he met the visiting Zen master Kokusen of Entsuji in Tamashima (now Okayama Prefecture), and he was accepted as the master's disciple. After a stay of twelve years at Entsuji, Ryokan attained satori and was presented with an Inka by Kokusen. After Kokusen died the following year, Ryokan left Entsuji on a five-year long pilgrimage before settling as a hermit on Mount Kugami, north of his hometown of Izumozaki. He lived in a hut (Gogoan, or "Five Scoop Hut") that belonged to the Shingon temple Kokujoji.

For a living he was dependent on friends and begging. His life was very hard, especially in the snowy winter, and there was always a risk of starvation. Around 1826 health problems forced him to give up the hermit life and move to a house on the estate of a wealthy friend and sponsor in Shimazaki. There he met Teishin, who became his student. She was 40 years younger than Ryokan, but when they met it was an instant heartfelt meeting (like that of Ikkyu and Mori). She stayed with him until his death in 1831. Teishin recorded that Ryokan, seated in meditation posture, died "just as if he were falling asleep."

Just as was the case with Japan's other two great Buddhist poets, Saigyo and Ikkyu, Ryokan's life soon becam the stuff of legend. Many stories were told about him - his eccentric character, his friendliness, his humility - and Ryokan became enormously popular - something which lasts to this day. His nickname was Taigu, which means "Great Fool". He loved the simple life in nature, surrounded by plants and animals, and did not even like to harm a louse. A special love for moonlight and pine trees is expressed in his poems. It was atypical for a monk that he liked to take part in village festivals of the farmers and also drank sake. He is said to have sneaked into these festivals disguised as a woman (see poem 9). He loved playing with children so much that he often forgot about his begging round. But these are so many stories - Ryokan was above all a great poet in the East Asian tradition of the hermit poets and Zen eccentrics, capturing the pathos and beauty of human life in a way that still makes his poetry relevant.

Ryokan's tomb is located in Shimazaki, and his hermitage still stands on Mount Kugami. It is now a popular tourist destination. In his birthplace, Izumosaki, we find a Ryokan museum, and Entsuji temple, where he obtained enlightenment, has honored the poet by a statue.



[Ryokan's portrait on whch Poem 1 has been inscribed]


Notes:
Poem 1. One of Ryokan's most famous tanka, written by him on a self-portrait that shows him wearing a priest's hood and reading by a lantern. "Playing by myself" is a humorous expression for the activities he undertook alone in his hut: reading and writing Japanese and Chinese poetry and doing calligraphy.

Poem 2. In a head-note, Ryokan wrote "Early in spring I went to a place called Jizo Hall" - a temple that was located close to Ryokan's hut on Mt Kugami. A temari ball is made out of cloth bound together with various colored threads. They are still sold in stores where traditional toys and souvenirs are available. In the past, children used to bounce the ball while singing songs. The competition consisted in how long one could continue bouncing the ball without loosing it. Ryokan loved temari balls and his partner late in life, Teishin, also used to make them for him. In the poem, it is finally spring with its longer daytime light (short winter days last for a long time in Niigata!), so Ryokan is happy that he has more time to play the temari game.

Poem 3. Another popular poem in Japan, which shows Ryokan's concern for his friend Abe Sadayoshi. Abe was a wealthy sake maker and headman of the village of Bunsui, not far from Ryokan's hur on Mt Kugami. Abe is visiting Ryokan in his hermitage and they are having a good time so Ryokan wants his friend to stay as long as possible - so he uses an excuse to keep his friend longer: as long as the moon is not yet out, the path is dark, and Abe my step on the sharp chestnut shells, which have fallen on the path and might hurt his sandaled feet.

Poem 4. This is also a very famous poem, a sort of Zen sermon "which is a no-sermon." It has the head-note "On Gogoan." Ryokan believed that sermons were superfluous as nature showed the way to mankind. A mountain stream of course contains the best natural water, clear and fresh. Nature doen not teach sermons, but, by being itself, demonstrates to human beings how to act. At the same time, the clear mountain stream is a symbol for Ryokan himself.

Poem 5. The Buddhas of the Three Worlds are the Buddhas of the past, the present and the future. Ryokan loved spring flowers, especially violets and dandelions, so his offering is a precious one.

Poem 6. Another well-known poem. Ryokan had been busy picking violets (previous poem), and not caring much about possessions, he returned home to his hut only to discover he had left his begging bowl behind. Ryokan's bowl was made of wood as he used it both for meals and for begging (normally, begging bowls would be made of iron). Fortunately, Ryokan found the bowl where he had left it. He calls the bowl "aware," which means something like "sad beauty", an important concept in Japanese aesthetics. So it is not pitiable in the sense of worthless here!

Poem 7. There are several stories about Ryokan telling how he gave away his clothes or his bedding out of sympathy to a thief. One of them goes as follows: one evening a thief visited Ryokan's hut at the base of the mountain only to discover there was nothing to steal. Ryokan returned and caught him. "You have come a long way to visit me," he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty-handed. Please take my clothes as a gift." The thief was bewildered. He took the clothes and slunk away. Ryokan sat naked, watching the moon. "Poor fellow," he mused, "I wish I could have given him this beautiful moon."

An important point in this haiku is of course that the moon is symbolic of Enlightenment - a thief can rob you of your possessions, but Enlightenment can never be taken away.

Poem 8. The Bon Festival is the Buddhist festival held in mid-August, when the souls of the dead are welcomed back to the earth and entertained with food and music. At the Bon festival, slow communal dances are held, moving in a circle, and Ryokan was fond of such dances. In this poem, while staying in his hut on Mr Kugami, he hears the flute and drum music accompanying such dances from the distant village. On the one hand he wants to go there and join in, on the other hand he enjoys his solitude on the mountain, where only the sound of the wind in the pine trees can be heard (the summum of wabi).

Poem 9. A haiku about the Bon festival. Participants would dress in yukata (summer kimono) and wear a straw hat or use a hand towel to hide their identity. Ryokan was in fact recognized, but he was happy when someone jokingly said "she" was a good-looking dancer.

Poem 10. The haiku Ryokan offered to his companion Teishin on his death bed. The meaning is that he has shown his (normally hidden) bad side and his good side to Teishin - and now he falls like a leaf in autumn, never to return.

Poem 11. The novelist Kawabata Yasunari referred to this poem in his Nobel Prize address in Srockholm in 1968. The legacy Ryokan and Kawabata wanted to leave to the world is nothing less than the beauty of nature.



[Statue of Ryokan with begging bowl in Entsuji]
Translations and studies:
Ryūichi Abé and Peter Haskel, Great Fool: Zen master Ryōkan: poems, letters, and other writings. University of Hawaii Press, 1996.
Ryokan: Selected Tanka and Haiku, translated from the Japanese by Sanford Goldstein, Shigeo Mizoguchi and Fujisato Kitajima (Kokodo, 2000)
Ryokan, Zen Monk-Poet of Japan, by Burton Watson (Columbia U.P., 1977)
One Robe, One Bowl; The Zen Poetry of Ryōkan (ISBN 0834801264), 1977, translated and introduced by John Stevens. Weatherhill, Inc.
The Zen Poems of Ryōkan translated by Nobuyuki Yuasa, Princeton University Press, 1981.

Photos:
Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

 

Japanese Poetry Index