The Priest of Gyōkei.The Ghost of Taira No Tsunemasa.Chorus.
Gyōkei
I am Gyōkei, priest of the imperial temple Ninnaji. You must know
that there was a certain prince of the House of Taira named Tsunemasa,
Lord of Tajima, who since his boyhood has enjoyed beyond all precedent the
favour of our master the Emperor. But now he has been killed at the Battle
of the Western Seas.
It was to this Tsunemasa in his lifetime that the Emperor had given the
lute called Green Hill. And now my master bids me take it and dedicate it
to Buddha, performing a liturgy of flutes and strings for the salvation of
Tsunemasa's soul. And that was my purpose in gathering these musicians
together.
Truly it is said that strangers who shelter under the same tree or draw
water from the same pool will be friends in another life. How much the
more must intercourse of many years, kindness and favour so deep. . .
[1]1
Surely they will be heard,
The prayers that all night long
With due performance of rites
I have reverently repeated in this Palace
For the salvation of Tsunemasa
And for the awakening of his soul.
Chorus
And, more than all, we dedicate
The lute Green Hill for this dead man;
While pipe and flute are joined to sounds of prayer.
For night and day the Gate of Law
Stands open and the Universal Road
Rejects no wayfarer.
Tsunemasa
speaking off the stage.
"The wind blowing through withered trees: rain from a cloudless
sky.
The moon shining on level sands: frost on a summer's night."
[2]2
Frost lying. . . but I, because I could not lie at rest,
Am come back to the World for a while,
Like a shadow that steals over the grass.
I am like dews that in the morning
Still cling to the grasses. Oh pitiful the longing
That has beset me!
Gyōkei
How strange! Within the flame of our candle that is burning low because
the night is far spent, suddenly I seemed to see a man's shadow dimly
appearing. Who can be here?
Tsunemasa
his shadow disappearing.
I am the ghost of Tsunemasa. The sound of your prayers has brought me in
visible shape before you.
Gyōkei
"I am the ghost of Tsunemasa," he said, but when I looked to where the
voice had sounded nothing was there, neither substance nor shadow!
Tsunemasa
Only a voice,
Gyōkei
A dim voice whispers where the shadow of a man
Visibly lay, but when I looked
Tsunemasa
It had vanished—
Gyōkei
This flickering form. . .
Tsunemasa
Like haze over the fields.
Chorus
Only as a tricking magic,
A bodiless vision,
Can he hover in the world of his lifetime,
Swift-changing Tsunemasa.
By this name we call him, yet of the body
That men named so, what is left but longing?
What but the longing to look again, through the wall of death,
On one he loved?
"Sooner shall the waters in its garden cease to flow
Than I grow weary of living in the Palace of my Lord."
[3]3
Like a dream he has come,
Like a morning dream.
Gyōkei
How strange! When the form of Tsunemasa had vanished, his voice lingered
and spoke to me! Am I dreaming or waking? I cannot tell. But this I
know,—that by the power of my incantations I have had converse with
the dead. Oh! marvellous potency of the Law!
Tsunemasa
It was long ago that I came to the Palace. I was but a boy then, but all
the world knew me; for I was marked with the love of our Lord, with the
favour of an Emperor. And, among many gifts, he gave to me once while I
was in the World this lute which you have dedicated. My fingers were ever
on its strings.
Was he not from the days of his childhood pre-eminent
In faith, wisdom, benevolence,
Honour and courtesy; yet for his pleasure
Ever of birds and flowers,
Of wind and moonlight making
Ballads and songs to join their harmony
To pipes and lutes?
So springs and autumns passed he.
But in a World that is as dew,
As dew on the grasses, as foam upon the waters,
What flower lasteth?
Gyōkei
For the dead man's sake we play upon this lute Green Hill that he loved
when he was in the World. We follow the lute-music with a concord of many
instruments.
Music.
Tsunemasa
And while they played the dead man stole up behind them. Though he could
not be seen by the light of the candle, they felt him pluck the
lute-strings. . . .
Gyōkei
It is midnight. He is playing Yabanraku, the dance of
midnight-revel. And now that we have shaken sleep from our eyes. . .
Tsunemasa
The sky is clear, yet there is a sound as of sudden rain. . . .
Gyōkei
Rain beating carelessly on trees and grasses. What season's music
[5]5
ought we to play?
Shakes the autumn clouds from the mountain-side."
[10]10
The phœnix and his mate swoop down
Charmed by its music, beat their wings
And dance in rapture, perched upon the swaying boughs
Of kiri and bamboo.
Dance.
Tsunemasa
Oh terrible anguish!
For a little while I was back in the World and my heart set on its music,
on revels of midnight. But now the hate is rising in me. . . .
[11]11
Gyōkei
The shadow that we saw before is still visible.
Can it be Tsunemasa?
Tsunemasa
Oh! I am ashamed; I must not let them see me.
Put out your candle.
Chorus
"Let us turn away from the candle and watch together
The midnight moon."
Lo, he who holds the moon,
The god Indra, in battle appeareth
Warring upon demons.
Fire leaps from their swords,
The sparks of their own anger fall upon them like rain.
To wound another he draws his sword,
But it is from his own flesh
That the red waves flow;
Like flames they cover him.
"Oh, I am ashamed of the woes that consume me.
No man must see me. I will put out the candle!" he said;
For a foolish man is like a summer moth that flies into the flame.
[12]12
The wind that blew out the candle
Carried him away. In the darkness his ghost has vanished.
The shadow of his ghost has vanished.
Footnotes
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