Blue Bamboo: Tales by Dazai Osamu by Dazaï Osamu Page A

and dirt of the world.” After saying this, he reflexively added: “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
    “I understand,” said the other in a calm and soothing tone. “I’m told you’ve had a very difficult life. I know how you must feel. But you’ll be fine now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
    “Oh? Forgive me, but... May I ask whom I have the honor of addressing?”
    “Why, I’m to be your companion. Whatever you desire, you have only to ask. I’m here to serve your every need. Or... do I displease you?”
    “Displease me? Certainly not, but...” Rattled, Yu Jung cast about for the proper words. “I have a wife of my own, you see. The superior man must abstain from lascivious conduct. I won’t be led into temptation,” he declared, trying to look the part of a crow of the highest morality.
    “I beg your pardon, sir! Do you imagine that some base and frivolous passion has inspired me to approach you like this? You do me an injustice. I am here at the bidding of His Majesty, the benevolent Wu. It is he who has commanded me to offer you solace and comfort. Understand that you are no longer a human being, and that the wife you had in your other life is no longer a consideration. She may be a gentle and loving soul, but I assure you that I will prove in no way inferior. I shall devote myself wholeheartedly to serving you, and you will find that avian fidelity is based upon an even higher and purer truth than that of humans. Unworthy though I may seem to you now, I beg you to allow me to stay by your side. My name is Blue Bamboo.”
    Yu Jung was deeply moved.
    “Thank you. I have suffered much at the hands of human society. Forgive me if I seem overly suspicious. I am unaccustomed to such kindness, you see, and scarcely know how to accept it gracefully. Do forgive me.”
    “My! You needn’t speak so formally. It sounds odd. Don’t you see? I’m to be your wife. Would you fancy an after-dinner stroll, my lord?”
    Yu Jung nodded in as lordly a manner as he could manage, and said: “Lead the way, Blue Bamboo.”
    “Come, then,” she said, and took to the sky.
    Calling back and forth, now one in the lead and now the other, with the autumn wind soft beneath their wings, the hazy waters of Lake Tung-t’ing far below them, the tiled roofs of distant Yueh Yang Pagoda glistening in the fiery glow of the setting sun, and the reflection of the surrounding mountains embossed on the shimmering surface of the Hsiang River, the black-robed newlyweds flew wherever their hearts inclined, strangers to anxiety, delusion, or fear, and when they tired they rested their wings atop the mast of a homeward bound ship and looked into each other’s eyes and smiled. When night fell at last they winged leisurely back toward the woods, admiring the sight of Lake Tung-t’ing bathed in the brilliant light of the autumn moon, and when they reached their roost they nestled together and slept. The following morning they splashed about in the waters of the lake, bathing their feathers and rinsing their throats, then darted off toward an approaching ship and breakfasted on the sailors’ morning offering. Blue Bamboo, the demure and innocent bride of our failed examinee, was ever at his side, sticking as close to him as a shadow and gently looking after his every need. Yu Jung felt as if all the misery of his life had been swept away without a trace.
    By the afternoon of that day, he was completely at home in his new role and had mastered the art of flitting about above the masts of passing ships, and when a vessel laden with soldiers came along he ignored his companions, who fled, squawking of danger, and paid no heed to Blue Bamboo’s cries of warning, too full of himself and the freedom of flight to resist the temptation to circle proudly in the air above it. He did not notice until too late that one of the soldiers had drawn a bow and was taking aim, and in the next moment an arrow pierced his breast. He fell from the