Haze rises
through the forest at dawn;
the bell of Yi’ai Temple
announces the hour—
a bell in the stillness.Haze rises
in the forest at dawn;
the bell of Yi’ai Temple
echoes—
how quiet it is.
“For snow on Incense-Burner Peak, one raises the blind to look” is a passage in The Pillow Book. It is the famous scene in which Empress Teishi asks, “What of the snow on Incense-Burner Peak?” and Sei Shōnagon raises the blind.
Snow having fallen very deep, the lattice shutters were raised unusually, a fire lit in the charcoal brazier, and we gathered to attend the Empress, telling stories and so forth. When the Empress said, “Shōnagon, what of the snow on Incense-Burner Peak?” Shōnagon had the lattice shutters raised and the bamboo blind lifted high, at which the Empress laughed. The other ladies also said, “We know such things and even sing them in poems, yet the thought had never occurred to us. Truly, the people serving this Empress must be like that.”
(Section Two Hundred and Eighty of The Pillow Book)
It was well received because she promptly acted on a poem by Bai Juyi that was common knowledge among aristocrats at the time. This is that supposedly common-knowledge poem.
| At the Foot of Incense-Burner Peak, Having Newly Chosen a Mountain Dwelling: My Thatched Cottage Just Finished, I Chance upon an Inscription for Its East Wall Bai Juyi The sun is high; sleep sated, I am still reluctant to rise. In a small pavilion beneath layered quilts, I fear no cold. Leaning on my pillow, I listen to the bell of Yi’ai Temple. I lift the blind and watch the snow on Incense-Burner Peak. Mount Lu is just the place to escape a name; still, as Sima, I retain an office to see out my old age. With mind at ease and body tranquil, this is where I belong; why need my old home be only in Chang’an? | At the foot of Incense-Burner Peak, I build a thatched cottage; an inscription on its east wall Bai Juyi The morning sun is high, and my slumber deep; even waking is still a burden. In a small loft, layered quilts keep me warm, unaware of the cold. The bell of Yi’ai Temple leans softly into my ear as I tilt my pillow. On Incense-Burner Peak, snow falls silently; I raise the blind and gaze at it alone. To escape a name, this Mount Lu is the very place suited to leaving the world. Still bearing the office of Sima, I remain here to meet old age. My heart is at ease and my body calm; this is the place to which I should return. Thinking of my former life in Chang’an, what was it that held me captive? |
Recently, I sometimes feel tired and even find myself, quite out of character, wondering what the meaning of living is. But when I read poems like this, I find myself thinking that a peaceful, uneventful life—listening while still under the covers to the bell of a nearby temple and opening the curtain to look at snow piled on the peak, with mind at ease and body healthy—would be nice. That said, I do not have the courage to choose such a life in the first place. Bai Juyi, too, reached that state of mind because he was demoted and sent away to the provinces; surely, had he been competing in Chang’an, he could not have written a poem like this. 🙂
Related posts
An Evening of Songs by Hideo Mizokami and His Students
Was “Yuki ya Konko” Composed by Rentarō Taki?
After a long interval, I received a comment on an earlier article, “So ‘Yuki ya Konko’ Was Composed by Dvořák...” The comment said, “Rather than having…
Poetry Collection: Shion
Shion If you belong to a quiet world, the fireworks of the night sky are shooting stars; the tiny waves at the water's edge, the sea…