Bedtime Story: Green Willow - A Japanese Tale
Tonight, I will help you drift off to a beautiful Japanese tale called 'Green Willow' by Grace James. I realize that I may have mispronounced some of the Japanese names and words in my storytelling and for that, I sincerely apologize. I want to assure you that my mispronunciations are not intentional but rather a result of my earnest attempt to share these beautiful stories with you. The story begins with a short little settling in relaxation followed by the story. And so my friend, are you ready to drift off into dreamland? Well then, go ahead and snuggle up under those cozy blankets, and let’s begin... Sweet dreams!
Transcript
Welcome,
Dear listeners,
To another enchanting night of bedtime storytelling.
I'm your host Joanne,
And it's an honor helping you get restful sleep.
Over the next few weeks,
Amidst my regular narrations,
I will also be sharing a few Japanese tales penned by Grace James.
These timeless stories can whisk us away to a beautiful world that encapsulates Japanese culture and tradition.
And although these ancient tales don't always have a happy ending,
They are steeped in rich cultural heritage and offer profound wisdom and life lessons.
I realize that I may have mispronounced some of the Japanese names and words in my storytelling,
And for that,
I sincerely apologize.
Language is a bridge that connects us to different cultures and traditions,
And it's crucial that we honor and respect that connection by striving for accuracy and understanding.
I want to assure you that my mispronunciations are not intentional,
But rather a result of my earnest attempt to share these beautiful tales with you.
Before we begin,
I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to each and every one of my premium subscribers.
It's your unwavering support that keeps this podcast ad-free and allows me to continue bringing you these magical tales.
Your support really does make a difference.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Now,
Let's take a moment to unwind and relax.
Close your eyes.
Begin to breathe slowly and deeply,
And let go of the worries of the day.
Feel the tension melting away as you sink into your cozy space.
Relax those eyes.
Soften your brow.
Allow your shoulders to ease back.
Let your chest and belly be soft.
Allow your arms,
Hands,
And fingers,
Your legs,
Feet,
And toes come to rest.
Let them be loose and limp,
Either on your belly or at your sides,
Whichever position brings you the most comfort.
As you continue to nestle in your sleeping space,
Using the power of your imagination,
Visualize yourself in a tranquil garden surrounded by cherry blossoms,
With the gentle sound of a babbling brook in the distance.
You might notice the sensation of a soft,
Warm breeze that lightly caresses your skin.
You might hear birds singing,
Or the rustling of leaves swaying in the soft breeze.
You might see soft,
Fluffy clouds sailing across the vast blue sky above.
Take in all of this beautiful scenery that surrounds you.
Let this peaceful imagery soothe your mind and body as you prepare for this bedtime storytelling.
And so,
My friend,
Are you ready to drift off into dreamland?
Now then,
Go ahead and snuggle up under those cozy blankets,
And let's begin.
Tomodada,
The young samurai,
Owed allegiance to the Lord of Nodo.
He was a soldier,
A courtier,
And a poet.
He had a sweet voice and a beautiful face,
A noble form,
And a very winning address.
He was a graceful dancer,
And excelled in every manly sport.
He was wealthy and generous and kind.
He was beloved by rich and by poor.
Now his daimyo,
The Lord of Nodo,
Wanted a man to undertake a mission of trust.
He chose Tomodada and called him to his presence.
Are you loyal?
Said the daimyo.
My lord,
You know it,
Answered Tomodada.
Do you love me then?
Asked the daimyo.
I,
My good lord,
Said Tomodada,
Kneeling before him.
Then carry my message,
Said the daimyo.
Ride and do not spare your beast.
Ride straight and fear not the mountains nor the enemy's country.
Stay not for storm nor any other thing.
Lose your life,
But betray not your trust.
Above all,
Do not look any maid between the eyes.
Ride and bring me word again quickly,
Thus spoke the Lord of Nodo.
So Tomodada got him to horse and away he rode upon his quest.
Obedient to his lord's commands,
He spared not his good beast.
He rode straight and was not afraid of the steep mountain passes nor of the enemy's country.
Ere he had been three days upon the road,
The autumn tempest burst,
For it was the ninth month.
Down poured the rain in a torrent.
Tomodada bowed his head and rode on.
The wind howled in the pine tree branches.
It blew a typhoon.
The good horse trembled and could scarcely keep its feet,
But Tomodada spoke to it and urged it on.
His own cloak he drew close about him and held it so that it may not blow away,
And in this wise he rode on.
The fierce storm swept away many a familiar landmark of the road and buffeted the samurai so that he became weary almost of fainting.
Noontide was as dark as twilight,
Twilight was as dark as night,
And when night fell it was as black as the night of Yomi,
Where lost souls wander and cry.
By this time,
Tomodada had lost his way in a wild,
Lonely place where,
As it seemed to him,
No human soul inhabited.
His horse could carry him no longer,
And he wandered on foot through bogs and marshes,
Through rocky and thorny tracks,
Until he fell into deep despair.
Alack,
He cried,
Must I die in this wilderness and the quest of the Lord of Noto be unfulfilled?
At this moment the great winds blew away the clouds of the sky so that the moon shone very brightly forth,
And by the sudden light Tomodada saw a little hill on his right hand.
Beyond the hill was a small thatched cottage,
And before the cottage grew three green weeping willow trees.
Indeed,
The gods be thanked,
Said Tomodada,
And he climbed the hill in no time.
Light shone from the chinks of the cottage door,
And smoke curled out of a hole in the roof.
The three willow trees swayed and flung out their green streamers in the wind.
Tomodada threw his horse's rein over a branch of one of them and called for admittance to the longed-for shelter.
At once the cottage door was opened by an old woman,
Very poorly but neatly clad.
Who rides abroad upon such a night,
She asked,
And what wills he here?
I am a weary traveler,
Lost and benighted upon your lonely moor.
My name is Tomodada.
I am a samurai in the service of the Lord of Noto,
Upon whose business I ride.
Show me hospitality for the love of the gods.
I crave food and shelter for myself and my horse.
As the young man stood speaking,
The water streamed from his garments.
He reeled a little and put out a hand to hold on by the side post of the door.
Come in,
Come in,
Young sir,
Cried the old woman,
Full of pity.
Come in to the warm fire.
You are very welcome.
We have but coarse fare to offer,
But it shall be set before you with great goodwill.
As to your horse,
I see you have delivered him to my daughter.
He is in good hands.
" At this,
Tomodada turned sharply round.
Just behind him,
In the dim light,
Stood a very young girl with the horse's rein thrown over her arm.
Her garments were blown about and her long loose hair streamed out upon the wind.
The samurai wondered how she had come there.
Then the old woman drew him into the cottage and shut the door.
Before the fire sat the good man of the house,
And the two old people did the very best they could for Tomodada.
They gave him dry garments,
Comforted him with hot rice wine,
And quickly prepared a good supper for him.
Presently,
The daughter of the house came in and retired behind a screen to comb her hair and to dress afresh.
Then she came forth to wait upon him.
She wore a blue robe of home spun cotton.
Her feet were bare.
Her hair was not tied nor confined in any way,
But lay along her smooth cheeks and hung straight and long and black to her very knees.
She was slender and graceful.
Tomodada judged her to be about sixteen years old and knew well that she was the fairest maiden he had ever seen.
At length,
She knelt at his side to pour wine into his cup.
She held the wine bottle in two hands and bent her head.
Tomodada turned to look at her.
When she had made an end of pouring the wine and had set down the bottle,
Their glances met,
And Tomodada looked at her full between the eyes.
For he forgot altogether the warning of his daimyo,
The lord of Nodo.
Maiden,
He said,
What is your name?
She answered,
They call me the Green Willow.
The dearest name on earth,
He said.
And again he looked her between the eyes,
And because he looked so long,
Her face grew rosy red from chin to forehead,
And though she smiled,
Her eyes filled with tears.
Ah me,
For the lord of Nodo's quest.
Then Tomodada made this little song.
Long-haired maiden,
Do you know That with the red dawn I must go?
Do you wish me far away?
Cruel long-haired maiden,
Say.
Long-haired maiden,
If you know That with the red dawn I must go,
Why,
Oh why,
Do you blush so?
And the maiden,
The Green Willow,
Answered.
The dawn comes,
If I will or know.
Never leave me,
Never go.
My sleeve shall hide the blush away.
The dawn comes,
If I will or know.
Never leave me,
Never go.
Oh,
Green Willow,
Green Willow,
Sighed Tomodada.
That night he lay before the fire still,
But with wide eyes,
For no sleep came to him though he was weary.
He was sick for love of the Green Willow,
Yet by the rules of his service,
He was bound in honor to think of no such thing.
Moreover,
He had the quest of the lord of Nodo that lay heavy on his heart,
And he longed to keep truth and loyalty.
At the first peep of day he rose up.
He looked upon the kind old man who had been his host,
And left a purse of gold at his side as he slept.
The maiden and her mother lay behind the screen.
Tomodada saddled and bridled his horse,
And mounting rode slowly away through the mist of the early morning.
The storm was quite over,
And it was as still as paradise.
The green grass and the leaves shone with the wet.
The sky was clear,
And the path very bright with autumn flowers,
But Tomodada was sad.
When the sunlight streamed across his saddle bow,
Ah,
Green Willow,
Green Willow,
He sighed.
He sighed,
And at noontide it was Green Willow,
Green Willow,
And Green Willow,
Green Willow when the twilight fell.
That night he lay in a deserted shrine,
And the place was so holy that in spite of it all he slept from midnight till the dawn.
Then he rose,
Having it in his mind to wash himself in a cold stream.
That flowed nearby so as to go refreshed upon his journey.
But he was stopped upon the shrine's threshold.
There lay the Green Willow,
Prone upon the ground.
A slender thing she lay face downwards,
With her black hair flung about her.
She lifted a hand and held Tomodada by the sleeve.
My lord,
My lord,
She said,
And fell to sobbing piteously.
He took her in his arms without a word,
And soon he set her on his horse before him,
And together they rode.
It was little they wrecked of the road they went,
For all the while they looked into each other's eyes.
The heat and the cold were nothing to them.
They felt not the sun nor the rain,
Of truth or falsehood.
They thought nothing at all,
Nor of the filial piety,
Nor of the lord of Noto's request,
Nor of honor nor plighted word.
They knew but the one thing,
Alas,
For the ways of love.
At last,
They came to an unknown city where they stayed.
Tomodada carried gold and jewels in his girdle,
So they found a house built of white wood,
Spread with sweet white mats.
In every dim room there could be heard the sound of the garden waterfall,
Whilst the swallow flitted across and across the paper lattice.
Here they dwelt,
Knowing but the one thing,
Here they dwelt three years of happy days,
And for Tomodada and the green willow,
The years were like garlands of sweet flowers.
In the autumn of the third year,
It chanced that the two of them went forth into the garden at dusk,
For they had a wish to see the round moon rise.
And as they watched,
The green willow began to shake and shiver.
My dear,
Said Tomodada,
You shake and shiver,
And it is no wonder,
The night wind is chill.
Come in,
And he put his arms around her.
At this,
She gave a long and pitiful cry,
Very loud and full of love,
And when she had uttered the cry,
She fell and dropped her head upon her love's breast.
Tomodada,
She whispered,
Say a prayer for me,
I die.
Oh,
Say not so,
My sweet,
My sweet,
You are but weary,
You are faint.
He carried her to the stream's side,
Where the iris grew like swords,
And the lotus leaves like shields,
And lathed her forehead with water.
He said,
What is it,
My dear,
Look up and live.
The tree,
She moaned,
The tree,
They have cut down my tree,
Remember the green willow?
With that,
She slipped,
As it seemed,
From his arms to his feet,
And he,
Casting himself upon the ground,
Found only silken garments,
Bright colored,
Warm and sweet,
And straw sandals,
Scarlet thonged.
In after years,
When Tomodada was a holy man,
He traveled from shrine to shrine,
He traveled from shrine to shrine,
Painfully upon his feet,
And acquired much merit.
Once,
At nightfall,
He found himself upon a lonely moor.
On his right hand he beheld a little hill,
And on it the sad runes of a poor thatched cottage.
The door swung to and fro with broken latch and creaking hinge.
Before it stood three old stumps of willow trees that had long since been cut down.
Tomodada stood for a long time still and silent,
Then he sang gently to himself.
Long-haired maiden,
Do you know,
That with the red dawn I must go?
Do you wish me far away?
Cruel long-haired maiden,
Say.
Long-haired maiden,
If you know,
That with the red dawn I must go,
Why,
Oh why,
Do you blush so?
Ah,
Foolish song,
Gods forgive me,
I should have recited the holy sutra for the dead.
Sweet dreams,
My friend.
Sleep well.
