Sōseki: Ten Nights' Dreams - The Third Dream

This is the dream I dreamed.

I was carrying a child of six on my back. I’m sure it was my child. Only, the strange thing was, before I realized it he was blind with a freshly shaven head. When I asked, when did you lose your sight? he replied, what? Long ago. There’s no doubt that voice was a child’s, but he spoke like he was an adult. Like an equal.

Green rice paddies were to the left and right. The road was narrow. The fleeting shadows of herons could be seen in the darkness.

We’ve started toward the rice paddies, haven’t we? he said on my back.

I turned my face to the rear and asked, how do you know?

Aren’t the herons crying? he answered.

Sure enough, when he said that, they cried out twice.

Although he was my own child, I became a little frightened. With him on my back I didn’t know what would happen from here on. I wondered if there weren’t some place I could just abandon him. When I looked out into the darkness and I could see a large forest. Just as I started to think, if over there, a voice going, hee hee came from my back.

What are you laughing at?

He didn’t answer. All I heard was, father, am I heavy?

You’re not heavy, I replied.

Soon I’ll become heavy.



I kept quiet and, with the forest as my guide, walked toward it. The road in the rice fields twisted irregularly. We couldn’t exit as easily as I had thought. After a while the path forked. I stood at the split in the road and rested.

The boy said, there should be a stone standing here.

Sure enough, an eight inch square stone stood about waist high. Written on the face, left Higakubo, right Hottahara. I could clearly see those red letters in spite of the darkness. They were like the red color of a newt’s belly.

Left will be fine, the boy ordered. When I looked left the forest was starting to cast dark shadows from the sky over our heads. I hesitated a little.

The boy added, you don’t need to hold back. Helplessly I started walking toward the forest. I was thinking that the boy seemed to know everything, even though he was blind. When the single road approached the forest, he said on my back, being blind is a real inconvenience.

“But it’s okay, because I’m carrying you.”

I’m sorry you have to carry me, but to be made a fool of by people won’t do. To be made a fool of by a parent, especially, won’t do.

Somehow things had become unpleasant. I was thinking how I wanted to hurry to the forest and dispose of him, and I hurried.

You’ll understand when we get a little farther. It was just like this night, he said on my back, like he was speaking to himself.

What was? I asked, with intensity in my voice.

What was? You know, don’t you, the child answered with a sneer. And then I got this feeling that I did. But clearly I didn’t know. It was just that it felt like it happened on a night like this. It felt like if I just went a little farther, I would know. Knowing would be very difficult, so while I didn’t understand I hurried to dispose of him. I had to feel relief. I hurried.

Rain had been falling for some time. Little by little the road darkened. It was almost like a dream. But this small kid was sticking to my back, and he illuminated my entire past, present and future, shining like a mirror that didn’t miss an ounce of the truth. Yet, he was my child. And he was blind. I couldn’t stand it.

Here, here. Right at that cedar’s roots.

I could clearly hear the kid’s voice. Unconsciously I stopped. Without noticing we had entered the forest. Just five feet in front of me was a black mass. Without a doubt, I could see it was the cedar tree the kid had spoke of.

Father, it was at that cedar’s roots there, wasn’t it.

Without thinking, I replied, yes, it was.

I think it was 1809, the year of the Dragon.

Of course, I was made to think of 1809.

From today it’s been exactly one hundred years since you killed me.

As I heard those words, one hundred years ago, the year of the Dragon, on a dark night like this, by the roots of a cedar, the realization that I murdered a blind man abruptly burst into my mind. And as soon as I started to become aware that I was a murderer, the child on my back suddenly grew as heavy as a stone Jizō statue.

(Natsume Sōseki, translation by Chris Pearce)


My comment:

Our sins are our children, we carry their burden, we are the victims, the murderers, the parents, the children, all in one, no distinction, everything remains as it was done by us, forever. A hundred years is nothing, no past, no future, only eternity.




(Sōseki)