Jakuren Hoshi

The seventh print this year is another 'Fujiwara turned priest', this time Fujiwara no Sadanaga, who became the priest Jakuren Hoshi while in his early thirties. He was a cousin of the compiler of the Hyaku-nin Isshu anthology, Fujiwara no Sadaie, but his inclusion in the set is in no way nepotistic, as he was renowned as one of the most famous poets of his day, even being the subject of his own anthologies.

I've been including relatively modern translations of the poems each month, but let's have a bit older one this time ....

As it turns out, 'sodden leaves of pine' is a particularly appropriate image this month. I carved this print, not in my Hamura workshop, and not in our usual summer residence in the small village where Michiyo grew up, but in the family's old, abandoned farmhouse in a valley hidden deep up in the mountains above the village. The homestead was originally settled hundreds of years ago, but has been unoccupied for many years now, and as Michiyo and I are quite concerned about its state of decay, we decided this year to stay up there and do some long overdue maintenance. Before we went we spent a week with Michiyo's 83-year old mother and a tape recorder, and collected hours of reminiscences on her life at Okunono ('farthest fields', the name of the homestead). The four of us then loaded up our backpacks, hiked up the overgrown path, and disappeared from the face of the earth.

We worked like slaves, clearing away the jungle, repairing the drainage systems, patching up the house, and trying to save the fruit trees. (I say 'we', but have to admit that I spent a lot of time just sitting on the verandah dazed by the endless rains. Michiyo, on the other hand, couldn't bear to waste a minute, and worked through even torrential typhoon weather, doing what she could to try and save her birthplace). Of course, our lifestyle was pretty basic. There is no electricity up there, and no road to bring in supplies. We cooked our rice on the old 'kamado', and as the woodsmoke once again filled the house and rose to add to the patina on the massive roof timbers, it was easy to believe that life was coming back to the old place.

It would take a whole book to tell you about our wonderful summer 'vacation': the scenery ... the history ... the animals ... our discoveries ... our feelings ... all interspersed with Grandma's memories ... I've got the story all laid out quite clearly in my mind, but when will I ever find the time to write it down?

Well, not just yet, because I've got to get busy on next month's print, Yushi Naishinno-ke Kii. Until then ...

September 1992

Translation - Heihachiro Honda / 1956 - Hokuseido Press