(O Lovely One-O thou Flower! With Thy beautiful face, with Thy beautiful
eyes, pour light upon the world! Adoration to Kwannon.)
In Japan in the days of the remote Ancestors, near the little village of
Shiobara, the river ran through rocks of a very strange blue colour, and
the bed of the river was also composed of these rocks, so that the clear
water ran blue as turquoise gems to the sea.
The great forests murmured beside it, and through their swaying boughs
was breathed the song of Eternity. Those who listen may hear if their
ears are open. To others it is but the idle sighing of the wind.
Now because of all this beauty there stood in these forests a roughly
built palace of unbarked wood, and here the great Emperor would come
from City-Royal to seek rest for his doubtful thoughts and the cares of
state, turning aside often to see the moonlight in Shiobara. He sought
also the free air and the sound of falling water, yet dearer to him than
the plucked strings of sho and biwa. For he said;
“Where and how shall We find peace even for a moment, and afford Our
heart refreshment even for a single second?”
And it seemed to him that he found such moments at Shiobara.
Only one of his great nobles would His Majesty bring with him--the
Dainagon, and him be chose because he was a worthy and honorable person
and very simple of heart.
There was yet another reason why the Son of Heaven inclined to the
little Shiobara. It had reached the Emperor that a Recluse of the
utmost sanctity dwelt in that forest. His name was Semimaru. He had made
himself a small hut in the deep woods, much as a decrepit silkworm might
spin his last Cocoon and there had the Peace found him.
It had also reached His Majesty that, although blind, he was exceedingly
skilled in the art of playing the biwa, both in the Flowing Fount manner
and the Woodpecker manner, and that, especially on nights when the moon
was full, this aged man made such music as transported the soul. This
music His Majesty desired very greatly to hear.
Never had Semimaru left his hut save to gather wood or seek food until
the Divine Emperor commanded his attendance that he might soothe his
august heart with music.
Now on this night of nights the moon was full and the snow heavy on the
pines, and the earth was white also, and when the moon shone through the
boughs it made a cold light like dawn, and the shadows of the trees were
black upon it.
The attendants of His Majesty long since slept for sheer weariness, for
the night was far spent, but the Emperor and the Dainagon still sat
with their eyes fixed on the venerable Semimaru. For many hours he had
played, drawing strange music from his biwa. Sometimes it had been like
rain blowing over the plains of Adzuma, sometimes like the winds roaring
down the passes of the Yoshino Mountains, and yet again like the voice
of far cities. For many hours they listened without weariness, and
thought that all the stories of the ancients might flow past them in the
weird music that seemed to have neither beginning nor end.
“It is as the river that changes and changes not, and is ever and ever
the same,” said the Emperor in his own soul.
And certainly had a voice announced to His Augustness that centuries
were drifting by as he listened, he could have felt no surprise.
Before them, as they sat upon the silken floor cushions, was a small
shrine with a Buddha shelf, and a hanging picture of the Amida Buddha
within it--the expression one of rapt peace. Figures of Fugen and
Fudo were placed before the curtain doors of the shrine, looking up in
adoration to the Blessed One. A small and aged pine tree was in a pot of
grey porcelain from Chosen--the only ornament in the chamber.
Suddenly His Majesty became aware that the Dainagon also had fallen
asleep from weariness, and that the recluse was no longer playing, but
was speaking in a still voice like a deeply flowing stream. The Emperor
had observed no change from music to speech, nor could he recall when
the music had ceased, so that it altogether resembled a dream.
“When I first came here”--the Venerable one continued--“it was not my
intention to stay long in the forest. As each day dawned, I said; ‘In
seven days I go.’ And again--‘In seven.’ Yet have I not gone. The days
glided by and here have I attained to look on the beginnings of peace.
Then wherefore should I go?--for all life is within the soul. Shall the
fish weary of his pool? And I, who through my blind eyes feel the moon
illuming my forest by night and the sun by day, abide in peace, so that
even the wild beasts press round to hear my music. I have come by a path
overblown by autumn leaves. But I have come.”
Then said the Divine Emperor as if unconsciously;
“Would that I also might come! But the august duties cannot easily be
laid aside. And I have no wife--no son.”
And Semimaru, playing very softly on the strings of his biwa made
no other answer, and His Majesty, collecting his thoughts, which had
become, as it were, frozen with the cold and the quiet and the strange
music, spoke thus, as if in a waking dream;
“Why have I not wedded? Because I have desired a bride beyond the
women of earth, and of none such as I desire has the rumor reached me.
Consider that Ancestor who wedded Her Shining Majesty! Evil and lovely
was she, and the passions were loud about her. And so it is with women.
Trouble and vexation of spirit, or instead a great weariness. But if the
Blessed One would vouchsafe to my prayers a maiden of blossom and dew,
with a heart calm as moonlight, her would I wed. O, honorable One, whose
wisdom surveys the world, is there in any place near or far--in heaven
or in earth, such a one that I may seek and find?”
And Semimaru, still making a very low music on his biwa, said this;
“Supreme Master, where the Shiobara River breaks away through the gorges
to the sea, dwelt a poor couple--the husband a wood-cutter. They had no
children to aid in their toil, and daily the woman addressed her prayers
for a son to the Bodhisattwa Kwannon, the Lady of Pity who looketh down
for ever upon the sound of prayer. Very fervently she prayed, with such
offerings as her poverty allowed, and on a certain night she dreamed
this dream. At the shrine of the Senju Kwannon she knelt as was her
custom, and that Great Lady, sitting enthroned upon the Lotos of Purity,
opened Her eyes slowly from Her divine contemplation and heard the
prayer of the wood-cutter’s wife. Then stooping like a blown willow
branch, she gathered a bud from the golden lotos plant that stood upon
her altar, and breathing upon it it became pure white and living, and it
exhaled a perfume like the flowers of Paradise, This flower the Lady
of Pity flung into the bosom of her petitioner, and closing Her eyes
returned into Her divine dream, whilst the woman awoke, weeping for joy.
“But when she sought in her bosom for the Lotos it was gone. Of all this
she boasted loudly to her folk and kin, and the more so, when in due
time she perceived herself to be with child, for, from that august
favour she looked for nothing less than a son, radiant with the Five
Ornaments of riches, health, longevity, beauty, and success. Yet, when
her hour was come, a girl was born, and blind.”
“Was she welcomed?” asked the dreaming voice of the Emperor.
“Augustness, but as a household drudge. For her food was cruelty and her
drink tears. And the shrine of the Senju Kwannon was neglected by her
parents because of the disappointment and shame of the unwanted gift.
And they believed that, lost in Her divine contemplation, the Great Lady
would not perceive this neglect. The Gods however are known by their
great memories.”
“Her name?”
“Majesty, Tsuyu-Morning Dew. And like the morning dew she shines in
stillness. She has repaid good for evil to her evil parents, serving
them with unwearied service.”
“What distinguishes her from others?”
“Augustness, a very great peace. Doubtless the shadow of the dream of
the Holy Kwannon. She works, she moves, she smiles as one who has tasted
of content.”
“Has she beauty?”
“Supreme Master, am I not blind? But it is said that she has no beauty
that men should desire her. Her face is flat and round, and her eyes
blind.”
“And yet content?”
“Philosophers might envy her calm. And her blindness is without doubt
a grace from the excelling Pity, for could she see her own exceeding
ugliness she must weep for shame. But she sees not. Her sight is inward,
and she is well content.”
“Where does she dwell?”
“Supreme Majesty, far from here--where in the heart of the woods the
river breaks through the rocks.”
“Venerable One, why have you told me this? I asked for a royal maiden
wise and beautiful, calm as the dawn, and you have told me of a
wood-cutter’s drudge, blind and ugly.”
And now Semimaru did not answer, but the tones of the biwa grew louder
and clearer, and they rang like a song of triumph, and the Emperor could
hear these words in the voice of the strings.
“She is beautiful as the night, crowned with moon and stars for him
who has eyes to see. Princess Splendour was dim beside her; Prince
Fireshine, gloom! Her Shining Majesty was but a darkened glory before
this maid. All beauty shines within her hidden eyes.”
And having uttered this the music became wordless once more, but it
still flowed on more and more softly like a river that flows into the
far distance.
The Emperor stared at the mats, musing--the light of the lamp was
burning low. His heart said within him;
“This maiden, cast like a flower from the hand of Kwannon Sama, will I
see.”
And as he said this the music had faded away into a thread-like
smallness, and when after long thought he raised his august head, he was
alone save for the Dainagon, sleeping on the mats behind him, and the
chamber was in darkness. Semimaru had departed in silence, and His
Majesty, looking forth into the broad moonlight, could see the track of
his feet upon the shining snow, and the music came back very thinly like
spring rain in the trees. Once more he looked at the whiteness of the
night, and then, stretching his august person on the mats, he slept amid
dreams of sweet sound.
The next day, forbidding any to follow save the Dainagon, His Majesty
went forth upon the frozen snow where the sun shone in a blinding
whiteness. They followed the track of Semimaru’s feet far under the pine
trees so heavy with their load of snow that they were bowed as if with
fruit. And the track led on and the air was so still that the cracking
of a bough was like the blow of a hammer, and the sliding of a load of
snow from a branch like the fall of an avalanche. Nor did they speak as
they went. They listened, nor could they say for what.
Then, when they had gone a very great way, the track ceased suddenly,
as if cut off, and at this spot, under the pines furred with snow, His
Majesty became aware of a perfume so sweet that it was as though all the
flowers of the earth haunted the place with their presence, and a music
like the biwa of Semimaru was heard in the tree tops. This sounded far
off like the whispering of rain when it falls in very small leaves, and
presently it died away, and a voice followed after, singing, alone in
the woods, so that the silence appeared to have been created that such a
music might possess the world. So the Emperor stopped instantly, and the
Dainagon behind him and he heard these words.
“In me the Heavenly Lotos grew,
The fibres ran from head to feet,
And my heart was the august Blossom.
Therefore the sweetness flowed through the veins of my flesh,
And I breathed peace upon all the world,
And about me was my fragrance shed
That the souls of men should desire me.”
Now, as he listened, there came through the wood a maiden, bare--footed,
save for grass sandals, and clad in coarse clothing, and she came up and
passed them, still singing.
And when she was past, His Majesty put up his hand to his eyes, like one
dreaming, and said;
“What have you seen?”
And the Dainagon answered;
“Augustness, a country wench, flat--faced, ugly and blind, and with a
voice like a crow. Has not your Majesty seen this?”
The Emperor, still shading his eyes, replied;
“I saw a maiden so beautiful that her Shining Majesty would be a black
blot beside her. As she went, the Spring and all its sweetness blew from
her garments. Her robe was green with small gold flowers. Her eyes were
closed, but she resembled a cherry tree, snowy with bloom and dew. Her
voice was like the singing flowers of Paradise.”
The Dainagon looked at him with fear and compassion;
“Augustness, how should such a lady carry in her arms a bundle of
firewood?”
“She bore in her hands three lotos flowers, and where each foot fell I
saw a lotos bloom and vanish.”
They retraced their steps through the wood; His Majesty radiant as
Prince Fireshine with the joy that filled his soul; the Dainagon
darkened as Prince Firefade with fear, believing that the strange music
of Semimaru had bewitched His Majesty, or that the maiden herself might
possibly have the power of the fox in shape-changing and bewildering the
senses.
Very sorrowful and careful was his heart for he loved his Master.
That night His Majesty dreamed that he stood before the kakemono of the
Amida Buddha, and that as he raised his eyes in adoration to the Blessed
Face, he beheld the images of Fugen and Fudo, rise up and bow down
before that One Who Is. Then, gliding in, before these Holinesses stood
a figure, and it was the wood-cutter’s daughter homely and blinded. She
stretched her hands upward as though invoking the supreme Buddha, and
then turning to His Majesty she smiled upon him, her eyes closed as in
bliss unutterable. And he said aloud.
“Would that I might see her eyes!” and so saying awoke in a great
stillness of snow and moonlight.