Sanuki no Suke’s Diary: Memories of the Imperial Palace (2)

 

     Tonight, too, as I lie beside the new Emperor and look around, the palace at night seems no different from how it was in the time of the late Emperor. The only change is that, because the new Emperor has only recently moved into his new residence, the fire and water brought by the young girls are still placed on either side of his pillow.

     Even as I lie here, I am reminded of how I used to attend to the late Emperor on nights when the Empress did not visit, and I am simply overcome with a boundless sorrow. While everyone else seems to be sleeping peacefully, my thoughts drift endlessly from one thing to another, preventing me from closing my eyes. The voices of the Takiguchi guards announcing the hour, shifting between the bathhouse and the palace entrance—voices I used to hear only faintly—now echo clearly. An official from the Right Gate Guards calls out, "We'd better check it out—can't know what it is without looking," followed by the rustling sound of a wooden peg being slotted into the time-marker board. The night watchmen from the Left Gate Guards, appearing hurried, patrol the grounds just as they did in the past.

     As I gaze at the drapery of the ceremonial canopy, many of the late Emperor's words come rushing back to me. "When will this longing ever dry up?" I wonder. My sleeves, as I sleep alone, grow wetter and wetter, my tears flowing so copiously that one could fish beneath my pillow. Everything appears exactly as it used to be, which makes the late Emperor's absence all the more heartbreaking. Looking toward the young Emperor, he seems so tiny and childlike, making me realize all over again how different the late Emperor was.

     It brings to mind a time about two years ago, when I was attending to the late Emperor day and night in this very manner. His illness had shown signs of improvement, but Cloistered Emperor Shirakawa had cautioned him,

"Please be exceedingly careful, and do not venture out at night for the time being."

     To pass the time, the late Emperor would tell me endless stories of things past and present. On one such occasion, when the Regent approached from behind, I felt it would be improper and unseemly to remain by the Emperor's side, so I rose to leave. Sensing that I wished to avoid being seen by the Regent, the late Emperor said,

"Stay right where you are. I shall make a screen for you."

He then raised his knees to hide me from view. That act of kindness feels as though it happened only moments ago.

     I cannot believe how much the world has changed. Everyone else has moved on, and I am the only one who remains left behind. What karmic bond from a past life could have bound me to such a fate? As these thoughts spin through my mind, the grief becomes utterly unbearable.