Kutune Shirka - the Ainu Epic tr by Arthur Waley.pdf
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22.08.2018
Kutune Shirka, Arthur Waley tr.
Kutune Shirka, Arthur Waley tr.
KUTUNE SHIRKA
T
HE
A
INU
E
PIC
translated by Arthur Waley
Botteghe Oscure, Rome, 1951, pp. 214236.
My fosterbrother and fostersister
They it was who brought me up,
And so we lived.
In a castle magically built
There I grew up.
There was a great pile of treasure
That rose like a cliff, and on top
Lay handguards in twos and threes,
Fit for the sword of a chieftain,
And when in twos and threes
Their tassels swayed,
There was a bright gleam on the wall,
So beautiful, so lovely!
In front of the treasurestand,
On a seat of my own,
On my high seat I grew up.
And by it, to the left,
Was my whitewood bed, so marvellous
In the beauty of its shape.
Who was first reared in it
That it should have been made so lovely?
I did not know, but my thoughts
Were full of wonder.
And all this time
On my high seat I did nothing
But carve patterns upon treasures,
http://www.sacredtexts.com/shi/ainu/kutune.htm
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22.08.2018
Kutune Shirka, Arthur Waley tr.
Figures upon swordsheaths.
That was what I was bent on
On that and nothing else.
Now it happened at this time
Some stray talk reached me
By roundabout ways
That at the mouth of the Ishkar
A golden seaotter
Was diving for its food,
And that the Man of Ishkar
To near villages
Had sent news flying,
To far off villages.
News had been brought,
And this was what it said:
To whoever can dive into the sea
And bring back the Golden Otter
I will give my sister,
And all the treasure that is mine
Tied up in one bundle
Shall go with her as her dowry!
And because it was so,
From near villages and far villages
The chieftains have come crowding
To the RiverMouth of Ishkar,
And there they had set up
A great row of booths.
It was news of this,
Some stray talk of it,
That reached my ears
And one day I heard my sister's voice
The lovely ring of her voice,
And this was what she was saying:
‘Come now, you heroes that I tend,
Be sure that you pay no heed
To tales such as this.
It is a thing that happened long ago,
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22.08.2018
Kutune Shirka, Arthur Waley tr.
And now at the ebb of time
Has happened again;
No more and no less.’
And while my sister spoke
She fretted and fidgeted,
Moving her legs this way and that.
All this troubled me
When I turned it over in my mind.
But still, I carved my treasures,
Graved patterns on my sword
And so, I passed my time.
II
There came a night
When I could not get to sleep,
The god that lives under beds
Prodded me from below;
The god that lives in the beams
Stared at me from above,
Prodded and stared so hard
That as I lay on my bed
I tossed this way and that.
Why was I like this?
I could not make it out.
My brother and sister on their pillows
Were snoring loud,
Snoring both together.
Suddenly, there on my bed,
I stretched myself, and at one bound
I was up on my feet.
I went to the treasurepile,
I fumbled about in it
And pulled out a basket,
A basket finely lacquered,
The cords that bound it
One after another I untied;
I tilted off the cover.
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22.08.2018
Kutune Shirka, Arthur Waley tr.
I plunged my hand into the basket;
An embroidered coat,
A graven beltsword,
A belt clasped with gold,
A little golden helmet
All of them together
I tumbled out.
The embroidered coat
I thrust myself into,
The golden clasped belt
I wound about me.
The cords of the little helmet.
I tied for myself,
So that it sat firm on my head.
The graven sword
I thrust through my belt.
And though I tell it of myself,
I looked splendid as a god,
Splendid as a great god
Returning in glory.
And there upon the mat,
Though I had never seen them,
I copied deeds of battle, deeds of war,
Spreading my shoulders, whirling round and round.
Then I went out at the door,
And saw what in all my life
Never once yet I had seen
What it was like outside my home,
Outside the house where I was reared.
So this was our Castle!
Never could I have guessed
How beautiful it was.
The fencing done long ago
Standing so crooked;
The new fencing
So high and straight.
The old fencing like a black cloud,
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