a€?You met Genbei on the mountain yesterday, didna€™t you?a€?
a€?Yes.a€?
a€?And did you visit the grave of the Nagara maiden on your way here?a€?
a€?I did.a€?
a€?a€?As the autumna€™s dew that lies a moment on the tips of the seeding grass so do I know that I too must fade and be gone from this brief world,a€™a€? she recites swiftly, without any modulation to her voice. I cana €™t guess what has prompted her.
a€?Yes, I heard that poem at the teahouse yesterday.a€?
a€?The old lady told you, did she? She came as a servant to our house original y, you know, before I went off as a . . .a€ she begins, then casts me a quick glance to see how Ia€™l react. I feign ignorance.
a€?It was while I was stil young. Every time she came Ia€™d tel her the story of the Nagara maiden. She could never remember the poem, but eventual y she heard it so often that she did manage to memorize it al .a€?
a€?Aha, so thata€™s it. I must say I wondered how she came to know something so difficult. But ita€™s a touching poem, isna€™t it?a€?
a€?Is it touching? I wouldna€™t compose a poem like that, myself. To begin with, how sil y to go throwing yourself into a pool.a€?
a€?Yes, I suppose it is, now that you mention it. What would you do?a€?
a€?Therea€™s no question what Ia€™d do. The only thing to do is to have the two men as your paramours.a €?
a€?Both of them?a€?
a€?Yes.a€?
a€?Youa€™re amazing.a€?
a€?Therea€™s nothing amazing about it. Ita€™s perfectly obvious.a€?
a€?Yes, I seea€”in that case you wouldna€™t have to commit yourself to either the flea world or the mosquito world, would you?a€?
a€?One can get by in life without having to think like a crab, after al .a€?
At this moment the half-forgotten bush warbler, its ful energy restored, bursts out with a startlingly splendid high-pitched cal .
Once revitalized, the lilting cal s begin to flow forth again seemingly of their own accord. a€?Body flung upside down,a€ as the famous haiku has it.8 The base of its swel ing throat atremble, its a€?smal moutha€? almost split open with the ful ness of its song, as the bird cal s again and again.
a€?Now that is real poetry,a€? she says firmly.
CHAPTER 5
a€?Pardon my asking, but Ia€™m guessing youa€™re from Tokyo, are you, sir?a€?
a€?I look like a Tokyo man, do I?a€?
a€?Look like it? Why, a single glance . . . First off, I can tel just from hearina€™ you speak.a€?
a€?Can you tel whereabouts in Tokyo?a€?
a€?Yees, wel , Tokyoa€™s awful big, aina€™t it. But Ia€™d make a stab ita€™s not the downtown part. Uptown Yamanote area, Ia€™d say.
Maybe Kojimachi? No? Wel then, Koishigawa? Wel , it must be Ushigome or Yotsuya, then?a€?
a€?Not too far wrong, yes. You certainly know your Tokyo, dona€™t you.a€?
a€?You wouldna€™t know it to look at me, but Ia€™m an old Tokyoite myself.a€?
a€?So thata€™s it. I could tel you had some style.a€?
He chuckles. a€?Not a bit of it! Just look at me now, misery that I am. . . .a€?
a€?So how did you end up spending your days in a place like this?a€?
a€?No kidding, youa€™ve hit the nail on the head there, sir. End up here is exactly what Ia€™ve done. Just couldna€™t make ends meet. . . .a€?
a€?Have you always been boss of a barbershop?a€?
a€?Not a boss, a worker. Whata€™s that? Where, you say? I worked in Matsunaga-cho in Kanda. Tiny filthy little place it is, Matsunaga-cho, not even room to swing a cat. The likes of you wouldna heard of it. You know Ryukanbashi Bridge? What? Dona€™t know that either? Ryukanbashi, famous bridge.a€?
a€?Hey, could you soap that up a bit more? Ita€™s hurting.a€?
a€?Hurts ya, does it? Ia€™m the fussy type, ya know, not happy til I can dig right in and get every hair on yer face, like this, shavina€™ against the grain, see? Not something your barber of today does, oh no, he just strokes, he does. You just put up with it a bit longer.a€?
a€?Ia€™ve been putting up with a lot for quite a while now. Come on, add a bit more hot water or soap, cana€™t you?a€?
