whose whereabouts are now unknown, and spent a whole day showing some to me. The fields of Miyagi were “thick with clover,” and I could imagine how lovely they would look in autumn. Now was the time when rhododendrons were blooming in Tamada, in Yokono, and on Azalea Hill. We went into a pine forest which grew so thickly that sunlight could not penetrate the branches. This they call Under-the-Trees. It is because the dew fell thickly in former times too that the poet wrote, “Samurai, tell your lord to take his umbrella!”
We spent one day visiting the Hall of the Healing Buddha, the Amatsu Shrine, and other holy places. Kaemon presented me with sketches of Matsushima, Shiogama and other celebrated spots along our route, and also the parting gift of a pair of straw sandals with dark blue cords. Such attentions showed him to be a person of true refinement.
Ayame kusa |
I will bind iris |
We continued on our way, following a map that Kaemon had drawn for us. At the foot of the mountains which border the narrow road of Oku, the famous To sedge was growing. They say that even now the people of the district present the governor every year with mats made of it….
The urn-shaped monument stands at Taga Castle in the village of Ichimura. It is over six feet high and about three feet wide, I should imagine. An inscription can faintly be seen underneath the moss incrustation. It records the distance to various far-off parts of the country and then adds, “This castle was built in 724 by Ono-Asomi Azumabito, Inspector and Governor General, and repaired in 762 by Emi no Asomi Asakari, Councilor, Commanding General of the Eastern Sea and Eastern Mountain districts, and Governor General. First day of the twelfth moon.”
Many are the names that have been preserved for us in poetry from ancient times, but mountains crumble and rivers disappear, new roads replace the old, stones are buried and vanish in the earth,
