▶In the mountain village, loneliness deepens most in winter, when I think how visitors cease to come and the grasses wither away.
Minamoto no Muneyuki Ason was a poet of the early Heian period and a grandson of Emperor Kōkō. He left the imperial family to become a subject with the surname Minamoto, but his court rank never rose as he hoped, and he left many poems lamenting his lot. He is one of the Thirty-Six Immortal Poets. The poem appears in the Winter section of the Kokin Wakashū as "a poem on winter." A yamazato, a mountain village, was a home in the hills far from the capital, a place where visitors were rare to begin with.
"Fuyu zo sabishisa masarikeru" means that the mountain village is always lonely, but in winter the loneliness grows deeper still. "Karenu" is a pivot word that joins "kareru," for people's visits drifting away, and "kareru," for grass withering. When winter comes, both the grass you can see and the human ties you cannot see fade away together. He looks at the loneliness of having no visitors through the winter landscape.
What drew us to this poem was that in the single word "karenu," grass withering and people drifting away are laid on top of each other. You leave your hometown, live in the city, and when you finally go back, the gate where you used to meet, the shops on the way home from school, and the friends you spent those days with are no longer there. We think the same loneliness as the winter mountain village of a thousand years ago is in coming home today. But it was not only the town and the friends who drifted away; it was you, too. It is lonely precisely because it was a town with people you wanted to see. Holding that feeling like a treasure, he calls out once more, "How are you?", to a name that has stopped. We made it a song of a winter trip home.
山里は(古今集/源宗于朝臣・百人一首28番)Garu JP
年の瀬 最後の 仕事を 終えて
スーツのまま 乗り継いだ 最終列車
窓に 映る 疲れた 顔に はっとする
あの頃の 僕は どんな 顔で 笑ってた
降り立った 無人の 終着駅
待ち合わせた 通学の 改札
セピア色の 青春が 浮かぶ
みんな 遠くの 街へ 散らばった
閉じた パン屋の 色あせた 看板
秘密基地は ただの 空き地
実家へ 続く 雪の 道に
僕の 足あとだけが 残る
山里は 冬ぞ寂しさ まさりける
人目も草も かれぬと思へば
帰れば 会えると 思ってた
何も 変わらず 待ってると
変わったのは 町だけじゃない
離れたのは 僕の ほうだった
卒業アルバムの ページを めくる
寄せ書きの 「また 遊ぼうな」
その 約束を 果たせないまま 何年も
季節だけが 先に 過ぎた
成人式で みんなが 写った 写真
僕だけが そこに いない
帰らなかった あの 冬を
今も ときどき 思い出す
山里は 冬ぞ寂しさ まさりける
人目も草も かれぬと思へば
部活の 帰りに 寄り道した
坂の 上の 自販機の 灯り
今も 変わらず ともって いるのに
並んで 飲む 友は いない
会えないのは 寂しいけど
会いたいと 思える 人が
この 町に いたことが
僕の 宝物 なんだ
山里は 冬ぞ寂しさ まさりける
人目も草も かれぬと思へば
自販機で 買った 缶の ぬくもりを
ひとりで 両手に 包んでる
山里は 冬ぞ寂しさ まさりける
人目も草も かれぬと思へば
古い トークを ひらいて みよう
止まったままの 名前に 向けて
「元気か」って それだけで いい
雪が 溶ける 前に
人目も草も かれぬと思へば
Yamazato wa (Kokin-shu / Minamoto no Muneyuki, Hyakunin Isshu No. 28) Garu JP
After the last day of work at the end of the year
still in my suit, I changed trains to the last one home
I catch my tired face in the window and freeze
how did I used to smile back then?
I step off at the unmanned last stop
the ticket gate where we met on school mornings
a sepia-toned youth comes back to me
everyone has scattered to faraway cities
The faded sign of the closed bakery
our secret base is just an empty lot
on the snowy road to my parents' house
only my footprints remain
"In a mountain village, winter is the loneliest season of all,
when I think how visitors and grasses have both withered away"
I thought if I came home, I'd see them
that nothing would change, that they'd be waiting
It isn't only the town that changed
I was the one who drifted away
I turn the pages of the graduation album
a message in it says "Let's hang out again"
for years I never kept that promise
only the seasons went on ahead
A photo of everyone at the coming-of-age ceremony
I'm the only one who isn't there
the winter I didn't come home
still comes back to me sometimes
"In a mountain village, winter is the loneliest season of all,
when I think how visitors and grasses have both withered away"
On the way home from club practice, we'd stop by
the vending machine light at the top of the hill
it still glows just the same
but no friend stands beside me to drink
I'm lonely that I can't see them
but that there were people here
I could long to see again
that is my treasure
"In a mountain village, winter is the loneliest season of all,
when I think how visitors and grasses have both withered away"
the warmth of a can from the vending machine
I hold in both hands, alone
"In a mountain village, winter is the loneliest season of all,
when I think how visitors and grasses have both withered away"
I'll open the old chats
toward the names that stopped long ago
"How are you?" — that's all I need to say
before the snow melts
When I think how visitors and grasses have both withered away