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 Though it was by his own will that he had withdrawn here, the loneliness deep in his heart was something he could open to no one.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."
三日目の夜、雷雨のさなかに、光源氏はうとうとと眠りに落ちた。そして、彼は不思議な夢を見た。
On the third night, in the midst of the storm, Genji drifted into a fitful sleep. And he had a strange dream.
夢の中に、今は亡き父帝の姿が現れた。父帝は厳かな声で「お前は、海の底に沈むべき運命ではない。速やかにこの地を去り、新たな運の開かれる場所へと移るがよい」と告げ、息子の手を取って、堅く誓わせたのであった。
In his dream, his late imperial father appeared before him. In a solemn voice the late emperor declared, "It is not your fate to sink to the bottom of the sea. Leave this place at once, and move to where a new fortune will open for you." Then he took his son's hand and pressed him to a firm vow.
夢から覚めた光源氏は、しばし夢の余韻に呆然とした。これが神仏のお告げにほかならないと直感した彼にとって、絶望の淵にあったその心には、父帝の言葉はまさに一条の光であった。
Waking from the dream, Genji remained for some time in a daze, the dream's aftertaste lingering. To him, who instantly perceived this as nothing other than a divine or buddhist message, the words of his father, falling into a heart that had stood at the brink of despair, were a single ray of light.
その同じ夜、海を隔てた明石の地に住む明石の入道もまた、奇妙な夢を見ていた。彼の夢に現れた老人は、「明日、海辺へ船を出して、須磨に住まう貴き方を、お前の館へお迎えせよ」と告げたのであった。
On that same night, far across the water in the land of Akashi, the Akashi Lay Monk had likewise been visited by a strange dream. In his dream, an old man appeared and told him, "Tomorrow, put out your boat to sea, and welcome to your residence the noble lord who is staying at Suma."
翌朝、激しい嵐がいまだ静まらないうちに、入道は自ら船を用意し、波風を冒して須磨の浦へと漕ぎ寄せた。家臣たちはこれを見て驚き、光源氏に「これは、まさに昨夜のお告げと一致するに違いございません」と告げた。
The next morning, while the fierce storm had still not subsided, the Lay Monk himself prepared a boat and, braving wind and wave, rowed across to the shore at Suma. Astonished, the retainers told Genji, "Surely this is none other than the very fulfillment of last night's revelation."
光源氏は、しばし考え込んだ後、明石への移転を決意した。「父帝の告げと、入道の到来が、同じ夜に重なるとあれば、これは天のはからいなり」と、彼は確信したのである。
After a long moment of thought, Genji resolved to move to Akashi. "If the late emperor's declaration and the Lay Monk's arrival have fallen on the very same night, it can only be the work of heaven's will," he was sure.
入道の館は、須磨の質素な仮住まいに比べるべくもないほど、立派なものであった。庭は手入れが行き届き、立派な楼閣は上品で趣があり、その奥には、桂の木に囲まれた一棟の館があった。
The Lay Monk's residence was far beyond comparison with the simple dwelling at Suma. Its garden was kept in fine order, its pavilions reached the height of elegance, and at the back stood a single house surrounded by katsura trees.
その奥の館に、入道の娘である明石の君が住んでいた。父の度重なる勧めにもかかわらず、彼女はこれまで、いかなる縁談にも心を動かさなかったという。光源氏が明石に滞在することとなったので、二人は自ずと出会うこととなった。
In that inner residence dwelt the Lay Monk's daughter, the Lady of Akashi. Despite her father's repeated urgings, she had until now, it was said, given her heart to no proposal of marriage. But because Genji had come to stay in Akashi, the two were brought naturally together.
明石の君は、都の女たちにもまして、品位と知性を兼ね備えた女性であった。光源氏は、初めて彼女と歌を交わした夜、その教養の深さに深く心を打たれた。やがて、二人の間には、深い愛情が芽生え始めたのであった。
The Lady of Akashi was a woman in whom grace and intellect were more refined even than in the women of the capital. The first night Genji exchanged poems with her, he was deeply moved by the depth of her cultivation. Before long, between the two of them, a deep affection began to bud.
月日は流れ、光源氏の都への帰還の許しが、ついに朝廷より下されることとなった。喜びに沸く家臣たちとは別に、彼の胸には、明石の君との別れという、新たな悲しみが宿っていた。
The months and years passed, and at last permission for Genji's return to the capital was granted by the court. Apart from the joy of his retainers, in his own breast there was a new sorrow — the parting that would have to come with the Lady of Akashi.
やがて明石の君は、光源氏の子を身ごもっていることが明らかとなった。後にこの娘は、東宮の后となるべき運命を背負うこととなる。都を離れてもなお尽きることのない光源氏の数奇な運命は、ここに新たな局面を迎えたのであった。
In time it became known that the Lady of Akashi was carrying Genji's child. It was the fate of this daughter, in later years, to become the consort of the crown prince. Genji's strange destiny, undiminished even by his absence from the capital, had reached, here, a new turn.