JAPAN
The following is an example of the words they put into the mouth of the musician who accompanied the dance:—
Our days are a dream that fades in the darkness;
A hundred years hence who can hope to remain?
Empty and vain are all things around us;
Where to find permanence who can pretend?
Life is as foam that flaketh the water,
Shred by the wild wind and scattered at will;
Man's soul like a caged bird the opening awaiteth
To wing to the skies its foredestined flight
That which is gone can ne'er be recallèd,
He that departs will come not again;
Followeth death after birth in a moment,
Bloom in an instant by blight is replaced;
And for him that in fame and in fortune rejoices,
Riseth already the smoke of the grave-pyre.
What travail from hell's doom can purchase evasion?
Mammon or moil, can they save from the grave?
Gathereth who by what labour so ceaseless,
Shall not his sins outnumber his gains?
Recall with closed eyes the days that have faded,
All the old friendships, have they not gone?
Count with bent fingers the men that were once here,
Dear ones and distant, hidden are all.
Times change and things pass, who shall set limits?
One stays and one goes, nothing is safe.
As flame-shrivelled tinder vanish the three worlds;[1]
Angel or anchorite, death's pangs for each.
Whence then reprieve for common or low-born?
Light not their trespass, heavy their pains;
Sins they have sowed bear ripe crop of sorrow,
The tale of their deeds is reckoned in full.
Brayed in the mortar of hell without pity;
A hundred years hence who can hope to remain?
Empty and vain are all things around us;
Where to find permanence who can pretend?
Life is as foam that flaketh the water,
Shred by the wild wind and scattered at will;
Man's soul like a caged bird the opening awaiteth
To wing to the skies its foredestined flight
That which is gone can ne'er be recallèd,
He that departs will come not again;
Followeth death after birth in a moment,
Bloom in an instant by blight is replaced;
And for him that in fame and in fortune rejoices,
Riseth already the smoke of the grave-pyre.
What travail from hell's doom can purchase evasion?
Mammon or moil, can they save from the grave?
Gathereth who by what labour so ceaseless,
Shall not his sins outnumber his gains?
Recall with closed eyes the days that have faded,
All the old friendships, have they not gone?
Count with bent fingers the men that were once here,
Dear ones and distant, hidden are all.
Times change and things pass, who shall set limits?
One stays and one goes, nothing is safe.
As flame-shrivelled tinder vanish the three worlds;[1]
Angel or anchorite, death's pangs for each.
Whence then reprieve for common or low-born?
Light not their trespass, heavy their pains;
Sins they have sowed bear ripe crop of sorrow,
The tale of their deeds is reckoned in full.
Brayed in the mortar of hell without pity;
- ↑ See Appendix, note 3.
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