Sanuki no Suke’s Diary: Postscript (1)

 

     Around the tenth of October, while at home, I find myself thinking more than ever, "If only the late Emperor were still alive," no matter what I do, see, or hear. Since people tell me, "That is the very place where he now rests," even though I cannot see his living form, I go to visit Koryu-ji Temple.

     The treetops there are already completely ablaze with autumn leaves. The foliage seems far more vibrant in color than that anywhere else. Perhaps the crimson tears I shed, longing for the days gone by, have stained the leaves, making their color appear exceptionally deep.

     When I reach the gravesite, the pampas grass, pale and withered, seems to beckon me with its hands. Given the location, its faded state is far more poignant than when it was in full bloom.

     "During his lifetime, so many men and women served him, each vying for his attention. But now, at the foot of this remote mountain, not a single person who once served him personally remains. He stands alone, beckoning people to him through the grass, yet no one stops to visit," I think, and I can barely stop my tears. Even the tomb is blurred by my tears, and I cannot bear to look at it.

The pampas grass beckons,

Yet no one stops to turn aside.

He who once ruled the world

Has vanished into a wisp of smoke.

Does it beckon because it knows

The sorrow deep within my heart?

As I venture in search

Of his vanished traces.

Just hearing about the pampas grass

Standing at the tomb of the late emperor

Fills one with sorrow;

Imagine, then, how I must feel, standing here before it.