Long ago in a certain place there were an old bamboo cutter and his wife who were poor and childless, but otherwise happy. Everyday the old man would go out to cut bamboo. One morning he saw a section of bamboo that was shining brightly; he carefully cut into it, and found a tiny baby girl, who was also shining brightly. He took her home, and and they took very good care of her. After that, he often came across shining bamboo plants, but they all just contained gold.The girl grew quickly, but never stopped brightening their home with her happy smile, her kindness, her talent and her beauty. When she was big enough to stop being a child, they named her Naotake Kaguyahime (because she grew quickly and was so bright). The old man, who was quite wealthy by then, had a big party to celebrate. After that, all the countryside was talking about her beauty, and before long the story was heard even in the capital. Every night young men and some older ones would come to the bamboo cutter's house house to try to see her, but Kaguya would never answer their notes. The local boys, who had to work all day, eventually gave up, but five nobles from the capital were there every evening, and usually all day as well. Kaguyahime always tried to please her old father, but she wouldn't listen when he said it was time for her to think about marriage. The old man was so embarrassed by her refusal that she finally allowed him to tell the five nobles that she would marry the first one to bring the thing she asked him for. But she didn't ask for anything that would be easy to find. One of the nobles, Prince Ishizukuri, was asked to bring the Buddha's begging bowl from India. But he had read about the terrible things that can happen when people travel to India, and doubted that whatever temple owned the bows would be willing to give it up even if he could find it. So he told his friends he was going to India, but instead went to find a really old-looking bowl at a temple somewhere in the mountains of Japan. But Kaguyahime wasn't fooled for a minute. She had the bowl given back to the prince with the message that he couldn't even do bad things right-- how could he ever do good things? At least India was a place on the map; Prince Kuramochi was supposed to go to P'englai, an island that floated around in the ocean, to pick a silver branch covered with jewels from one of the golden trees that grow there. Prince Kuramochi hired some Korean craftsmen to make him a jeweled branch in a secret workshop, and he hid there for the two years it took to finish the job. Then he went to the old bamboo cutter's new house and presented the branch along with an impressive story about the storms and problems he ran into trying to find P'englai. Kaguyahime had hoped the storms would be enough to stop the prince, but now she had the branch she asked for, and didn't know what to do-- she really didn't want to marry him. Prince Kuramochi, on the other hand, was very happy, and so excited about the marriage that the didn't see the Korean craftsmen who had come along after him. They hadn't been paid for their two years' work, and now they wanted their money. Their story made Kaguyahime feel much better than prince's story had-- she paid the men herself, and decided to keep the silver branch with clusters of rubies and pearls. It really was very lovely. But she didn't keep Prince Kuramochi, who had to sneak away in shame. Minister Abe was supposed to bring Kaguyahime a robe made from the fur of fire rats. Since fire rats lived in volcanoes, their fur was fireproof-- that is very useful in a country like Japan where all the houses were made of wood. Minister Abe knew he was not especially brave or clever, but he was especially rich. Instead of searching for a robe, he decided to buy one. He sent money to a Chinese merchant, who eventually found a robe to send back to him. The price was much higher than the minister had expected, but he was happy to pay. Again, Kaguyahime was surprised to receive what she had asked for, and was surprised to see that the fur, which was blue tipped with silver, was as beautiful as it was useful. But she asked if Minister Abe had tested the robe, and had him place it in the hibachi to prove that it wouldn't burn. Alas, the blue fur burned as quickly (and as smelly) as rabbit fur. The maids quickly carried the hibachi out of the house, and the bamboo cutter invited Minister Abe to follow them out. When Councillor Otomo told his retainers about his task, which was to bring Kaguyahime one of the seven-colored jewels that every dragon has on its head, they knew his task was the most dangerous, and one where no amount of trickery or money would help. The councillor sent some to the sea to find an ocean dragon, and some to the mountains to search for pond dragons. Wherever they were sent, they all went back to their hometowns to keep out of sight for a while. After a few weeks with no reports of success, Councillor Otomo decided to go to sea himself, taking along his sharpest sword. He hired a ship, but didn't tell the captain he was looking for a dragon until they were well out to sea. The captain wanted to turn around right then, until Otomo reached for that sword. Having spent his life sailing, the captain knew that dragons controlled the wind and rain; he wasn't surprised when a storm began that night. The tossing of the ship made Otomo sick, but not frightened-- not at first. By morning he was ready to listen to listen to the captain's pleas to turn back, but by then the sail was shredded and the rudder was broken. The ship, the crew and Councillor Otomo simply went where the wind blew them, until the ship finally ran up on a beach somewhere. When he finally got back to the capitol, travelling by land as much as possible, his retainers were waiting for him, but they all reported their own failure. Councillor Otomo apologized to them, sent a gift to the captain, and never mentioned Kaguyahime again. The fifth suitor, Councillor Isonokami, was asked to bring a swallow's cowrie shell, something he had never heard of. His retainers explained that such a shell was supposed to help women have babies, so Kaguyahime must really want to marry him. They also told him there were many swallows in the eaves of the storehouse at one of his estates. With a little help, the councillor came up with the idea of building a tripot with a long boom and a basket so his men could hoist him up to the eaves as soon as he saw a swallow switch its tail back and forth at sunset. On the first few tries he was too slow, but he only told the men to try harder next time. Then, as the sun was nearly down, he had one more chance, and was able to jam his hand into the right nest just in time to grab something soft, smooth and warm. But he had leaned too far out of the basket, and started to fall. Some men ran to help, and the others couldn't control the boom, so that the councillor crashed down with the tripod on top of him. He broke several bones, and fortunately was unconcious when retainer pried open his fingers and wiped the mess off his hand. Kaguyahime felt sorry that he was hurt, and sent a letter to help him feel better. It didn't help. Gossip is seldom a good thing, but sometimes it is useful. The word quickly spread that marriage to Kaguyahime was impossible, and that attempts would be costly and dangerous. Soon she was no longer bothered by suitors. But the same stories also circulated at court, and the emperor himself became interested. One fall he arranged to go hunting in the hills near the old bamboo cutter's home, and he stopped in for a visit afterwards. It is hard for screens and maids to stop an emperor, so he was able to see for himself how lovely she was, and he fell in love immediately. But Kaguyahime was more forceful than screens or maids, as well as wittier and more eloquent. She explained that she truly did not want to live with all the other wives at court, nor to marry at all. Although she refused to marry him, Kaguyahime did like the emperor, and
they often exchanged letters and short poems, like When I through the countryside roam. But after a year or too, Kaguyahime's maids noticed that she wasn't enjoying the summer days, and even letters from the emperor didn't cheer her up. In the evenings, she would just sit on the veranda, staring at the moon while a maid fanned the mosquitos away. She tried to smile when the old man talked to her, but she wouldn't answer when he asked what was wrong. A few days before the full moon in August, she finally broke down crying, and couldn't keep pretending everything was okay. "Oh, father," she said, "You've always known I wasn't an ordinary child. Before you found me, I lived on the moon. Then I did something I shouldn't; they sent me down to earth to punish me and reward you for your hard work. But now the time has come for me to return to my own people. I will leave on the night of the full moon." The old man didn't want to lose his only daughter, and the emperor also sent an army to surround the old man's home. But nothing helped. On the night of the full moon, when a cloud descended carrying a cart and several men and women who were even more beautiful than Kaguyahime, the archers couldn't shoot their arrows, the swordsmen couldn't draw their swords, and the spearmen couldn't shake their spears or even yell threats. Just before the moon people gave Kaguyahime a robe to help her forget her life in Japan, she gave the old man a pill that would make him live forever. Then she put on the robe, climbed in the cart, and went home. By now the old man didn't want to live forever, so he sent the pill to the emperor along with a letter Kaguyahime had written while she was waiting. The emperor didn't want to be without Kaguyahime for that long either, so he wrote an answer to her letter, and sent a retainer to the top of Mt. Fuji, which is the mountain in Japan closest to the moon, to burn the letter and the pill together. The smoke can still be seen rising into the sky on some days, which is a good sign Mt. Fuji is just as alive as it ever was. Back to Translations Table of Contents Back to Quilt Stories Notes: This poem is not an exact quote of any of the original waka. In fact, it is important to make up a different poem everytime the story is told, unless your daughter is already asleep. Technical virtuosity is okay if not too much trouble, but spontaneity and depth of emotion are the points she will be watching for. An example: Roses are rosey and red;Or maybe, since personal references are well-received: One princess who lived by the channel Back to the story |