Sanuki no Suke’s Diary: Days of Imperial Mourning (5)

 

     The days of Imperial mourning entered March. I attended the monthly memorial service as usual. The cherry blossoms at the Horikawa-in Residence were in full, magnificent bloom. It reminded me of the poem composed by Hata no Kanekata upon the death of Emperor Go-Sanjo (1034–1073):

The cherry blossoms bloom

in the exact same color as before.

It seems it is only the flowers

that are free from the sorrows of this world.

     And indeed, the blossoms appeared exactly as they always had, untouched by our grief.

     The Seiryoden, which had been the late Emperor's everyday residence during his lifetime, had now been converted into a Buddhist temple. Until July, Buddhist services for the evening and dawn were to be held continuously at fixed times. The quarters for the twenty chamberlains and the station for the guardsmen had all been turned into monks' quarters.

     Seeing how desolate the former Imperial Palace had become, I realized how true the poem by the former Empress Dowager, Fujiwara Shoshi (988–1074), was. When she had visited the former residence of her deceased husband, Emperor Ichijo (980–1011), and found it so quiet and lonely, she had composed this poem:

Who could have called

this throne a jeweled seat,

where now not even

the Emperor's shadow remains?

     It felt as though her words perfectly described the scene before my eyes.

     Meanwhile, the late Emperor Horikawa’s Empress Dowager was holding a series of thirty lectures, during which one chapter of the Lotus Sutra was expounded each day. I accompanied my older sister, Kenshi, who had served as the late Emperor's wet nurse, to listen to one of these lectures.

     After the sermon concluded, the Empress Dowager summoned Kenshi to her side, and my sister went to attend to her. Her lady-in-waiting, Saisho, remarked, "Kenshi, please come closer. As for Nagako, it must feel so awkward for her to be here at a time like this..."

     Overhearing this, the Empress Dowager quickly interceded, saying, "Nagako is a truly sincere and devoted person. She can have no reason to feel comfortable in this place, which has now lost its former glory, yet she has kept me in her thoughts and made an appearance anyway."

     She could not finish her sentence, her voice choking with tears. I, too, could no longer hold back my own.

     Since it was getting dark, I took my leave.