The Senjūshō
The Senjūshō, Collection of Selected Tales, attributed to Saigyō (1118-1190), a poet-monk, includes 121 tales of the men and women who renounced secular life to attain deliverance. The protagonists include the aristocrats, samurai warriors, priests, monks, noble women, wives, nuns and courtesans. The author’s analysis and comments following each anecdotal tale often sound sentimental and didactic, but tersely reflect his conflicts between his art (Way of the Poetry) and his life, as well as between his religious aspirations and his secular wishes and desires.
For the Kanji Press website I have selected some tales about men and women who succeeded in abandoning secular delusions by practicing the Way of Zen. The tale Courtesan of Eguchi is my favorite one.
Lastly, I greatly appreciate Professor George Tanabe, a Professor Emeritus of the Depart ment of Religion of University of Hawaii, Manoa, and former Editor Michael Cooper of the Monumenta Nipponica, who proofread and gave many valuable suggestions to my translations.
Yoshiko Dykstra
9:8 Courtesan of Eguchi
from the Senjūshō
translated by Yoshiko Dykstra
Some time ago, about the twentieth day of the ninth month, I passed through a place called Eguchi.1 A courtesan’s house was located on the spot between the northern and southern banks of two rivers. I could not help but feeling sorry for the courtesan who had to make her living by depending on the travelers.
Meanwhile a rain shower began which felt as cold as the winter rain. So I decided to take shelter at the courtesan’s house for a short while. But the woman of the house did not appear willing, so I composed a poem for her:
Yononaka o
Itou made koso
Katakarame
Karino yado o
Oshimu kimi kana
Avoiding worldly life
May be difficult,
But alas, you begrudge
my temporary stay
At your place
Slightly smiling, the woman replied to me with her poem:
Ie o izuru
Hito toshi kikaba
Kari no yado ni
Kokoro tomu nato
Omou bakarizo
I only thought
Someone like you
With the tonsure
Should not stay at a place
As worldly as this
When she finished her poem, she quickly let me into her house. I thought I would stay only while it was raining, but I spent the whole night there, thanks to her elegant poems.
The woman looked about forty years of age and was quite graceful in her appearance and manners. Throughout the night, we talked about various matters. She began to tell her story:
“I have been a courtesan since I was young. I think my profession is most lamentable. I hear women in general are sinful, but especially those working as courtesans. I must have a certain karmic relation to lead this sort of shameful life. For the past few years, as I become older, I have become more regretful, and I have finally stopped being a courtesan.
“The temple bell now sounds sad in the evening, as I wonder how long this transient life will last and feel everything is so futile. Toward dawn my mind becomes clearer, and the cries of the departing birds deeply touch my heart. In the evening I feel anything could happen during the night, and then in the morning I feel like cutting my hair and leaving this mundane life. But alas, abandoning the long-accustomed way is not so easy, and I feel like the birds which constantly suffer from the cold night in the Himalayas.2 So I have not yet been able to renounce this life. How sad it is. . .” she wept.
Her unusual story quite overwhelmed me, and the sleeves of my black robe were wet from tears and hard to dry. At daybreak I reluctantly left her, promising to meet her again in future.
On my way home I shed many tears as I thought of her. Just by looking at the trees and grasses, my heart was tearfully touched. Truly, the Way of the Poetry was leading me to the Way of the Law. Had I not recited my poem to her, she would not have let me stay at her place, and I would not have known such a wonderful person. Thanks to her, my yearning for the Way increased. I felt most grateful that my meeting her had helped me to obtain a deeper enlightenment.
In spite of the promise I made to her, I was unable to fulfill it, on account of my busy days in attending to a certain high-ranking priest from the capital. Since I deeply regretted this, I sent her a message with a poem which read
Karisome no
Yo niha omoi o
Nokosu na to
Kikishi kotonoha
Wasuremo sezu
I never forget
Your words,
Which tell me
Not to attach to anything
In this temporary world
The woman replied to me with her poem entrusted to my messenger. I quickly opened the message and found her poem, written in beautiful calligraphy:
Wasurezu to
Mazu kiku karani
Sode nurete
Wagami wa itou
Yume no yononaka
Hearing that you have
Not forgotten my words,
My sleeves become wet with tears
As I am still left amidst
This futile dream world
She also wrote another poem in a postscript saying that she had finally changed her life, although her heart was not yet completely in the Way.
Kami oroshi
Koromo no iro wa
Somemuru ni
Nao tsurenaki wa
Kokoro narikeri
By cutting my hair,
Dying the color of my robe3
I have left the world,
But only my heart
Is not yet in the Way4
For no reason, I was moved to tears by her poem. She was indeed a fine woman.
It was quite natural for a courtesan to wish to be favored by anyone she liked, but it was rare that the woman had abandoned such a desire and longed for the life after death. Perhaps the good deeds in her previous lives must have been remarkable, and such accumulated good karma must have been purified by the water of Eguchi. Her poems were very tasteful.
Just as she had said, “In the evening, I think of receiving the tonsure during the night, and at dawn I will leave this life in tears,” she must have fulfilled her wish and finally left the secular life.
Later I wanted to visit her, but since I heard of her leaving Eguchi after receiving the tonsure, I have done nothing about it. But I often think of her, wondering what her last moments were like.
~~~ The End ~~~
©2008 by Yoshiko Dykstra
1 Eguchi was in present-day Higashi-Yodogawa-ku, Osaka-shi. It was a river port town where the Yodo and Kanzaki rivers met, and many courtesans gathered there to entertain travelers. This story is related to Senjūshō, 5:11, which narrates how the protagonist met in Eguchi a nun who was skillful in composing linked verse.
2 An imaginary bird in the Himalayas which constantly forgets cold mountain nights while enjoying sunny days. The bird is like those who wish to change their lives to enter the Way, but have not yet done so as they are still attached to their secular life.
3 This refers to a black priestly robe.
4 The poem implies that even with her efforts to leave the secular world, she still has some difficulties.