II
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Hearn, Lafcadio
A small selection of hokku (1) on butterflies will help to illustrate Japanese interest in the aæsthetic side of the subject. Some are pictures only,—tiny color-sketches made with seventeen syllables; some are nothing more than pretty fancies, or graceful suggestions;—but the reader will find variety. Probably he will not care much for the verses in themselves. The taste for Japanese poetry of the epigrammatic sort is a taste that must be slowly acquired; and it is only by degrees, after patient study, that the possibilities of such composition can be fairly estimated. Hasty criticism has declared that to put forward any serious claim on behalf of seventeen-syllable poems “would be absurd.” But what, then, of Crashaw’s famous line upon the miracle at the marriage feast in Cana?—
Nympha pudica Deum vidit, et erubuit.[1]
Only fourteen syllables—and immortality. Now with seventeen Japanese syllables things quite as wonderful—indeed, much more wonderful—have been done, not once or twice, but probably a thousand times... However, there is nothing wonderful in the following hokku, which have been selected for more than literary reasons:—
Nugi-kakuru[2] Haori sugata no Kochō kana!
[Like a haori being taken off—that is the shape of a butterfly!]
Torisashi no Sao no jama suru Kochō kana!
[Ah, the butterfly keeps getting in the way of the bird-catcher’s pole![3]]
Tsurigané ni Tomarité nemuru Kochō kana!
[Perched upon the temple-bell, the butterfly sleeps:]
Néru-uchi mo Asobu-yumé wo ya— Kusa no chō!
[Even while sleeping, its dream is of play—ah, the butterfly of the grass![4]
Oki, oki yo! Waga tomo ni sen, Néru-kochō!
[Wake up! wake up!—I will make thee my comrade, thou sleeping butterfly.[5]]
Kago no tori Chō wo urayamu Metsuki kana!
[Ah, the sad expression in the eyes of that caged bird!—envying the butterfly!]
Chō tondé— Kazé naki hi to mo Miëzari ki!
[Even though it did not appear to be a windy day,[6] the fluttering of the butterflies—!]
Rakkwa éda ni Kaëru to miréba— Kochō kana!
[When I saw the fallen flower return to the branch—lo! it was only a butterfly![7]]
Chiru-hana ni— Karusa arasoü Kochō kana!
[How the butterfly strives to compete in lightness with the falling flowers![8]]
Chōchō ya! Onna no michi no Ato ya saki!
[See that butterfly on the woman’s path,—now fluttering behind her, now before!]
Chōchō ya! Hana-nusubito wo Tsukété-yuku!
[Ha! the butterfly!—it is following the person who stole the flowers!]
Aki no chō Tomo nakéréba ya; Hito ni tsuku
[Poor autumn butterfly!—when left without a comrade (of its own race), it follows after man (or “a person”)!]
Owarété mo, Isoganu furi no Chōcho kana!
[Ah, the butterfly! Even when chased, it never has the air of being in a hurry.]
Chō wa mina Jiu-shichi-hachi no Sugata kana!
[As for butterflies, they all have the appearance of being about seventeen or eighteen years old.[9]]
Chō tobu ya— Kono yo no urami Naki yō ni!
[How the butterfly sports,—just as if there were no enmity (or “envy”) in this world!]
Chō tobu ya, Kono yo ni nozomi Nai yō ni!
[Ah, the butterfly!—it sports about as if it had nothing more to desire in this present state of existence.]
Nami no hana ni Tomari kanétaru, Kochō kana!
[Having found it difficult indeed to perch upon the (foam-) blossoms of the waves,—alas for the butterfly!]
Mutsumashi ya!— Umaré-kawareba Nobé no chō.[10]
[If (in our next existence) we be born into the state of butterflies upon the moor, then perchance we may be happy together!]
Nadéshiko ni Chōchō shiroshi— Taré no kon?[11]