For your sake I went out into the spring fields to gather young herbs, and all the while snow kept falling on my sleeves.
The early Heian period. Emperor Kōkō lived a long, modest life as an imperial prince before ascending the throne at fifty-five, and he is remembered for the warmth of his character. This poem was composed before his accession; he attached it to young herbs, an early-spring gift meant to ward off evil and pray for good health, which he had picked with his own hands for someone dear to him.
"For your sake I go out into the spring fields and pick young herbs, and on my sleeves the snow keeps falling." It may be spring on the calendar, but the fields are still deep in winter. A person of rank standing in a snowy field with his own hands at work: it is a song of unadorned devotion that asks nothing in return.
We read the act of picking young herbs in a snowy field as a form of "love that gives" rather than "love that asks." So the person we overlaid onto the emperor of the original poem is a clumsy modern lover who walks the market first thing in the morning for a partner who has come down with a fever, and phones his mother to ask how to make seven-herb rice porridge. The worth of a gift lies not in its price but in the time spent and the sleeves that got wet; the wish simply to see the person you love smile has not changed in a thousand years.
春は春でも まだ雪の野辺
霜を踏み分け 籠を提げて
君に効くと 知った若菜を
探すこの手が 凍えていく
身分も冠も 関係ないんだ
ただの「わたし」で 摘んでいたい
君がため 春の野に出でて
若菜摘む 袖には雪
冷たさなんて 感じないほど
君の笑顔を 思い浮かべてる
早く元気に なりますように
やがて帝と 呼ばれる人も
この朝だけは 慈しむ人
誰も知らない その優しさは
雪の白さで できていた
贈る言葉を 千も持つより
かじかむ指で 摘んだひと束
君がため 春の野に出でて
若菜摘む 夜明けの色
うれしそうな顔 ひとつ見たくて
冠脱いで 膝を濡らすよ
それを恋と 呼ぶのだろう
君がため 春の野に出でて 若菜つむ
わが衣手に 雪は降りつつ
熱を出した 君のために
朝一番の 市場を歩く
七草がゆの 作り方を
電話で母に 聞いたりして
不器用だって 笑われたって
できることを したいだけ
君のため 雪の朝に
買った七草 抱えて帰る
鍋の湯気で 曇る窓辺で
早く治れと 祈りながら
時を越えても 同じ気持ちで
贈り物は 飾りじゃなくて
かけた時間と 濡れた袖
愛のかたちは 変わらないまま
雪の中を 歩いてくる
君がため 季節はめぐり
若菜の緑 雪の白
あの日の帝も 今日のぼくも
好きな人には 笑顔でいてほしい
ただそれだけで 野に出るんだ
雪は降りつつ……
雪は降りつつ……
Spring, but still a field of snow
Kicking through frost, basket in hand
Searching for the young herbs said to heal you
This hand of mine is going numb
Rank and crown mean nothing here
Just "me" — that's who I want to be, picking
For your sake I go out into the spring field
Gathering young herbs — snow on my sleeves
The cold doesn't reach me at all
Because I'm picturing your smile
Please, get better soon
The one who will one day be called Emperor
This morning is a man who cherishes another
The kindness no one else will ever see
Was made from the white of the snow
Better than a thousand words of comfort
A single bunch, gathered with numbed fingers
For your sake I go out into the spring field
Gathering young herbs in the color of dawn
Just to see one glimpse of your happy face
I'll take off my crown, wet my knees
That is what they call love, I suppose
For your sake, I went out into the spring field to gather young herbs
And on my sleeves the snow keeps falling
You've caught a fever, so for you
I walk to the market before dawn
The recipe for seven-herb rice porridge
I even called my mother to ask
Even if you laugh at me for being clumsy
I only want to do what I can
For your sake, in the snowy morning
I come home carrying the seven herbs I bought
By the window fogged with steam from the pot
Praying, please just get well soon
Across all these centuries, the same feeling
A gift is not the ornament
But the time you gave, and the wet sleeves
The shape of love hasn't changed at all
Walking through the snow, coming to you
For your sake — seasons turn and turn
The green of young herbs, the white of snow
That day's emperor and today's me
Just want the one we love to keep on smiling
That's all it takes to send me to the field
The snow keeps falling...
The snow keeps falling...