平安時代、宮中の花形として並ぶ者がいないほどの華やぎを誇った光源氏であったが、ある政争に巻き込まれ、ついに都を離れる決意を固めた。彼は何人かの忠実な家臣を従えて、人里離れた須磨の浦へと、自ら退き隠れることとなった。
In the Heian period, Hikaru Genji had risen to unmatched brilliance as the flower of the imperial court — until he was caught up in a political reversal and at last resolved to leave the capital. Taking with him a few faithful retainers, he withdrew of his own will to the remote shore of Suma.
須磨の海辺の暮らしは、栄華の極みにあったかつての光源氏には想像もつかないほど、わびしいものであった。わらぶきの仮の住まいは、波の音と松風の音にひと晩中囲まれ、都にあった頃の管弦の宴とは似ても似つかず、ただ深い寂しさだけが彼を包んでいた。
Life by the sea at Suma was a desolation that Genji, who had stood at the very pinnacle of glory, could never have imagined. His thatched, makeshift dwelling was wrapped night after night in nothing but the sound of the waves and the wind in the pines — far from the music and revelry of his days at court — and only loneliness held him.
都に残してきた愛しい人々の面影が、夜ごとに彼の胸に思い浮かんでは消えた。光源氏は、手紙を書いては都の女たちに送り、また都からの便りをひそかに待ち望むことを、唯一の慰めとしていた。
Each night the faces of the dear ones he had left behind in the capital came back to him. The one consolation of Genji's days was to write letters to the women of court and quietly to await the letters that came in return.
都を恋しく思う気持ちは、日に日に募るばかりであった。朝、海を眺めては、向こうのはるか彼方に、都があるはずの方角を見やった。夜、月を見上げては、都にあるであろう同じ月を見ているはずの人々のことを思った。
His longing for the capital grew, day upon day. By morning, he would gaze out across the sea toward the direction in which, far away, the capital must lie. By night, he would look up at the moon and think of the same moon, surely being looked upon by those he loved.
秋が深まる頃、須磨の地は、まことに荒れ果てた様子を漂わせるようになった。「ここでこのまま朽ちてゆく運命なのだろうか」と、光源氏はしばしば思いに沈んだ。自身の意志でこの地に退いたとはいえ、その心の奥にある寂しさは、誰にも打ち明けることのできぬものであった。
As autumn deepened, the land of Suma took on a truly desolate air. "Is this the fate appointed for me — to rot away in this place?" Genji often sank into such thoughts. Though it was by his own will that he had withdrawn here, the loneliness deep in his heart was something he could open to no one.
ある春の夕、空がにわかに曇り、不気味な風が浜辺を吹き渡り始めた。やがて、激しい雷鳴が天と地を震わせ、稲妻が幾度も海面を白く照らし出した。光源氏らは震え上がり、仮の住まいにこもって祈るほかなかった。
One spring evening, the sky suddenly clouded over and an eerie wind began to sweep across the shore. Soon a fierce thunder shook the heavens and the earth, and lightning lit the surface of the sea over and over in flashes of white. Genji and his men, trembling, could do nothing but shut themselves in the shelter and pray.
雷雨は三日三晩にわたって止まず、海は荒れ狂って岸を呑み込まんばかりであった。自然の猛威を前にしては、いかなる高貴な身分の者であろうと、なすすべがない。光源氏はこのまま都から遠く離れたこの土地で命を落とすのではないかという、深い絶望に襲われた。
The thunderstorm did not let up for three days and three nights, and the sea raged as though it might swallow the very coast. Before the fury of nature, no man, however noble his station, has any means of resistance. Genji was overcome by the deep despair that he might end his life there, on the edge of the world.
しかし、都の政争に敗れ、自らの意志でこの地へと退いた手前、今さら泣き言を漏らすこともためらわれた。彼は、つき従う家臣たちを案じ、ただ「まことに哀れに忍びない」と独り涙をこぼすばかりであった。
Yet, having been beaten in the political struggle of the capital and withdrawn here by his own choice, he could hardly now bring himself to voice complaint. Anxious for the retainers who had followed him, he could only let fall lone tears, murmuring, "Truly, I cannot bear how piteous it is."