Dream of an Old Fox
A Ballad by Seiji Hakui
Each full-length issue of New Verse Review wraps up its poems section with a long narrative. Our debut issue, Summer 2024, ended with Marly Youmans’ “Saint Thief.” Winter 2025 ends with the following poem, “Dream of an Old Fox” by Seiji Hakui. This delightful poem is written in ballad meter and based on a Japanese folk tale.
On Gojo-Bomon in Kyoto, There was an old house where Lived Dainagon Yasumichi As his late father's heir. And there lived also, as well as His servants and family, A great pack of foxes that had A dark ability: Capable to shapeshift and cast Some kind of magic spell, Those foxes used their powers to Trick people and raise hell. At first, the Dainagon tried to Disregard their mischief, But they grew bolder and became Naughty beyond belief. Angered, one night the Dainagon Called his servants, saying, "Prepare for a fox hunt! Let them Not produce more offspring. Bring out the clubs, arrows and bows! Soon as comes up the sun, We shall drive out and kill them all, Even the youngest one!" Having said so, he retreated Into his own bedroom, But before the sunrise, he dreamed This strange dream in the gloom: It was the house's west garden; He was surprised to see A white-haired old man sitting straight Under a mikan tree, Attired in a kariginu Dyed dark green. He wondered Awhile and asked him, "Who art thou?" And the old man answered: "For many a year I have dwelt Here as a denizen With, after two generations, Children and grandchildren. And though I made some efforts to Discipline those rascals, They kept wreaking havoc, never Acquiring the morals. With shame, therefore, I see ourselves Deserving of thine ire, And it is most lawful that thou Desirest we expire. I overheard thy servants plan A grim operation To drive out, capture and kill us Without an exception. Knowing thou wert just, I returned And then watched, as time passed, Those young ones playing, unaware Tonight would be their last. The more I watched them, the dearer Their poor lives seemed to me. So, unworthy as I am, here I bow and make a plea: I pray, most awful Dainagon, Forgive my children's crime. Never the same mistake, if thou Deign to spare us this time. Solemnly I vow, if pardoned, We shall hereafter be Thy sentinels, and let thee know When fortune blesseth thee." He woke up; the day was dawning. In the brightening air, He went out into the garden, And soon as, he saw there An old, hairless fox cowering Under the mikan tree, Where that strange old man in his dream Had bowed and made the plea. The old fox looked at him with eyes Filled with worry profound, And hied under a pile of planks Without making a sound. Reflecting, he returned inside And bade an armed servant To go and tell all his men that He cancelled the fox hunt. Thenceforth, even if there was no Lucky star in the sky, They knew a good fortune was near When they heard foxes cry.
The ballad is based on the tale 606 of the Kokon Chomonjū, a collection of folktales, historical anecdotes and gossips compiled by Narisue of Tachibana in the mid 13th century.
Gojo-Bomon: The name of a street. Today's Bukkoji-Dori in Kyoto.
Dainagon Yasumichi: Yasumichi of Fujiwara (1147-1210), a dainagon (high-ranking counselor of the court) from 1199 to 1202.
Sitting straight: I.e. performing seiza, a formal way of sitting on the floor that requires the both knees folded while the back is kept straight.
Mikan: Citrus unshiu. Pronounced as "miccan."
Kariginu: Kah-ree-ghee-nu. Literally means "hunting clothes." A loose robe originally worn for hunting that later became the everyday clothes for noblemen.
Dark green: Dark green clothes were worn by old people.
Seiji Hakui is a Japanese poet living in Tokyo. He is the author of Kuni-no-Hajime-no-Koto (Shichosha, 2024), a formal epic that recounts Japan's founding myth, and Sonnets and Translations (Shichosha, 2022). His poems and translations have appeared in Gendai Shitecho, Modern Poetry in Translation, Mantis, etc.