Retrospective comprehension

Another popular song via Kurata, this one from the 1920s and entitled Sendō kouta 船頭小歌 ("Song of the boatman"), with lyrics by NOGUCHI Ujō 野口雨情, music by NAKAYAMA Shimpei 中山晋平. I've translated it into a blues form as an act of ethnocentric violence which uproots the text from the language and culture that gave it life.

I'm just a clump of withered reeds on a dry riverbed
Yeah, I'm a bunch of withered reeds on a dry riverbed
You're nothing but dry reeds too, baby
No blossoms, already half-dead

But living or dying don't seem to matter no more
Living or dying don't seem to matter no more
Let's go down to the Tone River, baby
Find work pulling those oars

Through the rice growing wild, I see the rising moon
Oh, through the rice that grows wild, I see the rising moon
I'm headed for the Tone River
And I'll be leaving real soon

The wind blows cold on withered reeds like you and I
Yeah, the wind blows so coldly on old reeds like you and I
When you cry those hot tears
Maybe the moon will dry your eyes

As Sey NISHIMURA explains in "Retrospective Comprehension: Japanese Foretelling Songs", this song was thought guilty of terrible crimes against the nation:

Shortly after the earthquake [of 1923] [this song] came to be regarded as having foretold the destruction of Tokyo, predicting that the blossoming metropolis would be turned into a wilderness covered by plume grass [the "reeds" in my version]. Spreading among the shaken people, the allusive lyrics of the song persuaded so many that this song eventually became recorded as "the modern outbreak" of the foretelling songs.

Kurata provides a contemporary comment (also available here), from novelist KŌDA Rohan 幸田露伴:

Before the recent great earthquake and fire in which so many men and women died, a song beginning "I'm a bunch of withered reeds on a dry riverbed..." became popular, with even children joining in the singing, and particularly popular in Kōtō, both sung and whistled. This song's lyrics and melody alike were pathetic and miserable, enough to fill one with loathing. It began as a song in a movie, and so it was certainly not intended as a prophecy of the recent tragedy or anything like that, but now that the great earthquake and fire have occurred, and so many have indeed become like withered reeds on a dry riverbed [...] people have stopped singing the song entirely; still, it is unpleasant to recall.

Popularity factor: 3

language hat:

Nice ethnocentric violence! Now, that's what I call uprooting!

L.N. Hammer:

It may be enthnocentric violence, but the result is a beautiful text.

*puts on black sunglasses, takes out harmonica*

g dawg:

Man, that was quite an earthquake.

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