Lakes, meadows, rising woods, and all your own
TANEDA Santōka on walking, one of my own favorite summer pastimes.
禅門に「歩々到着」という言葉がある。それは一歩一歩がそのまま到着であり、一歩は一歩の脱落であることを意味する。一寸坐れば一寸の仏という語句とも相通ずるものがあるようである。
私は歩いた、歩きつづけた、歩きたかったから、いや歩かなければならなかったから、いやいや歩かずにはいられなかったから、歩いたのである、歩きつづけているのである。きのうも歩いた、きょうも歩いた、あすも歩かなければならない、あさってもまた。——
木の芽草の芽歩きつづける
はてもない旅のつくつくぼうし
けふはけふの道のたんぽぽさいた
□
どうしようもないワタシが歩いてをる
In Zen there is a saying: "Step by step, arrival" (hoho tōchaku, 歩々到着). It means that each step is itself an arrival, that each step is the shedding of a step. It seems to have something in common with the adage "Sit for a moment and for a moment you are a Buddha."
I walked, kept walking, because I wanted to walk—no, because I had to walk—no, no, because I was incapable of not walking—I walked, I am still walking. I walked yesterday, I walked today, and I must walk tomorrow too, and again the day after that—
Tree shoots grass shoots keep on walking
Tsuku-tsuku-bōshi cicada on a journey with no end
Today on today's road the dandelions bloomed
*
Idle useless me, walking
That "idle useless" in the last line corresponds to a dō shiyō mo nai in the original. This construction can often be translated almost literally as "there's nothing I/you/anyone can do [about it]", but when used in a sentence like this it gets harder: "I, about whom no-one can do anything, am walking" is in terms of tone a complete inversion of the original. I chose recreation over translation qua translation in order to retain the romantic self-deprecation of the original.
Also, Google produces evidence that the tsuku-tsuku-bōshi (Meimuna_opalifera) is known as the "last-summer cicada" in English, but that one's new to me. Tsuku-tsuku-bōshi is an onomatopoeic representation of its cry.
Leonardo Boiko:
You mean they don’t make-make their own hats?