Page:Anthology of Japanese Literature.pdf/284

280 bird I cry “Utō” and, waiting with beating heart, never hear the answering “Yasukata.” Why? oh, why did I kill them? For even as my child is beloved, just so must the birds and beasts yearn for their young. And now when I long to stroke the hair of my son Chiyodō and say, “Oh, how I have missed thee!” …


 * (The Hunter extends his arms and suddenly rushes toward the Child. But at each step of the Hunter, the Child falls back a step, as though some unseen object were keeping a fixed distance between them. It is the legendary cloud-barrier of earthly lusts which obscures the Sun of Buddha and prevents sinful spirits from visiting the earth. The Child takes a seat beside the Wife, and the Hunter returns to the center of the stage and stands with his back to the Wife and Child, indicating he has been unable to enter the house and can no longer see inside.)

… the shadows of my earthly lusts do rush before my eyes—a cloud of grief now rolls between us, a grievous cloud now hangs about.


 * (The Hunter makes a gesture of weeping.)

I cannot see him! Just now he was standing there, my child, sturdy and strong as a young pine….

Fugitive and fleeting … whither? … where? … I cannot find the hat—lost in the forests of the country of Tsu, in the shade of the spreading pine of Wada. I cannot reach the cloak—the flood tears, falling, drench my sleeves as might the spray from the waterfall at Minō. I cannot see the blessed sotoba.


 * (The Hunter makes slow circles round the stage, indicating his efforts to see through the cloud, and then stamps his foot in frustration.)

Who is this that stands outside, unable to enter his own home, barred from his wife and child, from cloak and hat, yes even from the sotoba? … “Having returned to Matsushima, to Ojima, I do not see the rush-mat huts on the islands—the villages are