'Now there is a wasan of Jizo,' says Akira, taking from a shelf in the
temple alcove some much-worn, blue-covered Japanese book. 'A wasan is
what you would call a hymn or psalm. This book is two hundred years old:
it is called Saino-Kawara-kuchi-zu-sami-no-den, which is, literally,
"The Legend of the Humming of the Sai-no-Kawara." And this is the
wasan'; and he reads me the hymn of Jizo--the legend of the murmur
of the little ghosts, the legend of the humming of the
Sai-no-Kawara-rhythmically, like a song: [8]
'Not of this world is the story of sorrow. The story of the
Sai-no-Kawara, At the roots of the Mountain of Shide; Not of this
world is the tale; yet 'tis most pitiful to hear. For together in the
Sai-no-Kawara are assembled Children of tender age in multitude, Infants
but two or three years old, Infants of four or five, infants of less
than ten:
In the Sai-no-Kawara are they gathered together. And the voice of their
longing for their parents, The voice of their crying for their mothers
and their fathers--"Chichi koishi! haha koishi!"--Is never as the
voice of the crying of children in this world, But a crying so pitiful
to hear That the sound of it would pierce through flesh and bone. And
sorrowful indeed the task which they perform--Gathering the stones of
the bed of the river, Therewith to heap the tower of prayers. Saying
prayers for the happiness of father, they heap the first tower; Saying
prayers for the happiness of mother, they heap the second tower; Saying
prayers for their brothers, their sisters, and all whom they loved
at home, they heap the third tower. Such, by day, are their pitiful
diversions. But ever as the sun begins to sink below the horizon, Then
do the Oni, the demons of the hells, appear, And say to them--"What is
this that you do here?" Lo! your parents still living in the Shaba-world
"Take no thought of pious offering or holy work "They do nought but
mourn for you from the morning unto the evening. "Oh, how pitiful! alas!
how unmerciful! "Verily the cause of the pains that you suffer "Is only
the mourning, the lamentation of your parents." And saying also, "Blame
never us!" The demons cast down the heaped-up towers, They dash the
stones down with their clubs of iron. But lo! the teacher Jizo appears.
All gently he comes, and says to the weeping infants:-- "Be not afraid,
dears! be never fearful! "Poor little souls, your lives were brief
indeed! "Too soon you were forced to make the weary journey to the
Meido, "The long journey to the region of the dead! "Trust to me! I
am your father and mother in the Meido, "Father of all children in the
region of the dead." And he folds the skirt of his shining robe about
them; So graciously takes he pity on the infants. To those who cannot
walk he stretches forth his strong shakujo; And he pets the little ones,
caresses them, takes them to his loving bosom So graciously he takes
pity on the infants.
Namu Amida Butsu!