Down the River, Freely

by Draugur

A poem for Watanagashi.

I hear the taiko drum. The hall resounds.

The curtain parts. A tender girl appears.

She holds a mighty hoe.

Ten years of age. So young and yet so strong.

And all is silent. Softly praying,

She moves along. With mighty swings

She wields the hoe. The cotton wool

Is torn and ripped apart like raw, untainted flesh.

She wipes away the ghosts of winter. All, begone!

You evil spirits, spy on us no more.

Guilt can be healed. And sin won't harm us anymore.

Another drumbeat. She has done the work

As told by God, who witnesses her grace.

The drum sounds once again. All dreary thoughts

Have gone. And there's a great applause.

Now everybody goes and gets their balls of cotton.

The riverbank is lit with reddish light.

All say their thanks and think of what is past,

The pain, the fear. The future, a new path,

They've learnt so they can leave and start again.

They hold the cotton in their hands,

Look how their left hands chase the ghosts away.

Now touch your forehead with the cotton. You will find forgiveness.

Now touch your chest with the cotton. You will choose to stay.

Now touch your navel with the cotton. You will trust your neighbour.

Now touch your thigh with the cotton. Say your thanks.

We all bow down and let our cotton balls

Drift down the river, freely roll and dance

So we will see our sorrows melt,

And now it's done, we'll surely meet to welcome the next day,

The sun will paint a peaceful summer's dawn.