Jul 249 min read

Goeika: Songs of the Shikoku Pilgrimage

Several months ago I started working on poetic translations of the Goeika (御詠歌 - Sacred Songs) of the Shikoku Henro. Goeika are waka, Japanese classical poems, which follow a 5-7-5-7-7 syllabic structure. This structure far predates the advent of Buddhism to Japan, but was coopted by medieval Buddhist preachers as a way of conveying teachings and experiences in a way normal people could understand. Over time, a poem was associated with each temple on the Shikoku Henro. Though brief, they incorporate wordplay that relates the names of sacred places to universal themes of suffering, purification, and salvation practitioners then and now experience as they go around the pilgrimage.

These poems were once a central element of the prayer service performed at temples on the Henro, as we can see from the service outlined in a 17th-century guidebook by Shinnen.

His service basically runs:

Introduce yourself by putting your name slip (part of a pilgrim's kit) in the box.
Call to mind the deity of the place you're praying at, and all deities throughout Japan.
Call to mind all the people who contribute to your life and wellbeing, from the top of society to your immediate family.
Call to mind everyone who has been a part of your pilgrimage.
Intending to share the merits of your practice with all the beings you recalled above, chant the Kōmyō Shingon and the name of Kōbō Daishi, "Namu Daishi Henjō Kongō."
Sing the sacred site's Goeika three times.

In the 88 Goeika of the pilgrimage, the anonymous pilgrim poets have immortalized moments of doubt, flashes of insight, experiences of ecstasy, and the deepening of their faith. I hope having access to them in English facilitates a deeper connection to the rich spiritual heritage of the Henro for international pilgrims. These translations will be free to access and distribute in perpetuity, and are available for download below. The Japanese versions of these poems can be found here.

Namu Daishi Henjō Kongō

Traveling to stand

in Shakyamuni’s presence

on the Holy Peak–

all my numberless misdeeds

will be washed away, they say

If you want to go

to Amitabha’s Pure Land

of Ultimate Bliss

let Namu Amidabu

be always on your lips

Just imagining

the pond of precious treasure

in the Land of Bliss

the golden spring bubbles forth

crystal clear, full to the brim

Casting my gaze out

illumined by the pale moon

halfway through the night

in the village called Dark Vale

I glimpse my sleeves, black as ink

Great Bodhisattva

Earth Store, you who change your form

to suit the six realms–

I beg you, show me the path

in this world and all after

In this fleeting world

battles over land and wealth

are a waste of time–

look instead to the Ruler

of the Land of Pleasant Ease

When human beings

put all eight types of suffering

swiftly to the side

they reach their destination:

nine Pure Land stages, ten joys

In Kuma Valley

collecting wood and water

I come to the temple–

this, too, an austerity

to prepare for my next life

The Great Vehicle–

even the sin of slander

turned upon its head

is a karmic tether to

the turning Wheel of the Law

At Cut-cloth Temple

even the tiniest shred

of a craving mind

turns into a stumbling block

I’ll face in the next world, too

Perfect Middle Way

the temple wisterias’

color and perfume–

not a day goes by without

waves of Suchness rising

Thoughts of the next world

inspire deepest reverence

at Burnt Peak Temple–

I will overcome the trials

at the afterlife’s three fords

The land of Awa

at the region’s Premier Shrine

put on the prayer cord

and offer your petition

for this life and the next one

Eventually

you will come to the far shore

of abiding joy

if you board without delay

the raft of the Buddhas’ vows

An array of hues

the colors are divided

some dim, some vivid–

the whole round of birth and death

in the autumn maple leaves

Do not forget me

I beg you, Sound-Perceiver

here at your temple–

guide me to the Western Realm

to Amitabha’s Pure Land

The shape of my face

I see it reflected back

in the well’s waters–

scooping up a clear handful

I’ll wash the stains from my heart

Mountain of Blessings

from my mother and father

those who gave me life–

the journey to this temple

isn’t hard with that in mind

One day, I hope to stand

in the Western Dwelling Place

all of us as one–

to climb aboard and sail on

the raft of the Buddhas’ vows

Amidst the wild growth

of the forest of white cranes

guiding all your steps

are the Great Master Kūkai,

Earth Store, and Śakra the King

Here, the Great Dragon

dwells forever in his cave

rid of body-mind

recalling all the Sutras

guarding the Buddhas’ teachings

When listening

without any separation

in equality

Ah! how trustworthy they are

the Buddhas whom I now see

Healing Lord Temple–

in years of calamity

which none can escape,

pour out Lapis Medicine

to heal our every ill

Temple in the East

the sky awaits the rising

of the morning star–

so must I keep wandering

in delusion’s deep darkness

Is the ferryboat

going out or coming in

to Harbor Temple?

Pick up my wandering body

and put me on board, I beg

Land of Perfect Bliss

the place of all my longings

for my next rebirth–

in the Western Temple’s sky

the moon, pointing out the way

High Peak of the Gods

the heart of the Buddha’s Vows

even higher still–

even if I should fall down

among hell’s blades, there it is

Like dew and hoarfrost

our defilements disappear

in the Great Sun’s light–

I’ll hoist all mine on my back

and carry them up with me

A temple was built

and filled with precious treasures

in every province

that blessings may be passed down

until the next age’s dawn

Tosa’s Premier Shrine

bustling with visitors

like a marketplace–

in time past, down to our day

always flourishing like this

Namah, Manjusri!

“Buddha Mother through all time”

I have heard you called–

I come to you as your child

craving the milk of wisdom

The ocean below

Meditation Master Peak

is still and quiet–

bobbing on the waves, my mind

slips aboard the Buddhas’ raft

High Fortunes Temple

all my hunger on the road

now seems far behind–

eager for the things to come

the moon amidst the light of dawn

Temple of the Seeds

planting the five types of grain

all throughout the world–

the Thus Come Ones’ compassion

deep and vast beyond measure.

Waterfall temple

the stream of mind flows pure as

I draw clear water

springing silken from the rock

dissipating like sea foam

The Azure Dragon

lives within the temple’s spring

tiny though it is

fulfilling its sacred vow

to guard the Buddhas’ teachings

Five sacred places

to match the six defilements–

a demonstration

that the gods of Niita

take pleasure in salvation

To Potalaka

Should I grab the ship’s oar and

strike out from the cape

or throw it out and stay here?

I’ll leave the choice to the wind

Namah, Great Healer,

you who relieve all sickness

with hope, I beg you

throwing myself at your feet

give me all the help you can

My heartfelt prayer

blooming like the flowers do

in spring’s liberty–

may I live as the free ones

far off from this floating world

The Great Deity–

the Esoteric teachings

passed down through three lands

are completely protected

thanks to Their solemn promise

Buddha-Tree Temple

even trees and grasses

can become Buddhas–

so too ghosts, beasts, humans, gods,

without any doubt at all

I have heard it said

that the Thousand-Armed One’s vow

is truly wondrous–

to Them, the greatest boulder

is lighter than a pebble

Everywhere I look

merciful blessings abound

truly wonderful–

until the end I rely

on Amitabha’s great vow

The Holy Beings’

mighty prayers, stalwart as

the temple’s boulders–

within the cliffside caverns

glimpses of their perfect bliss

The perfect bliss of

the Realm of Pure Lapis Gem -

this world's petty peace

compared with that Buddha Land

is hardly worth attention

About to blossom

Eight-hill Temple’s flowers and

the poet-singer–

hymns praising the Buddha Way

a teaching for all who hear

If you want to go

and hear Amitabha’s words

in his Buddha Land

then you must pay a visit

to the Western Grove Temple

The ten evil deeds

weigh heavy on my body

but just as I am

I come to Pure Land Temple–

it’s sinners who need it most

Do not be idle–

though your mind is scattered with

a million schemes

pray with the Medicine Lord

that every sickness be healed

Though I have not seen

Amitabha’s Western Land

of true health and peace

within this temple’s precincts

I receive his ten blisses

Climbing the mountain

the higher I get the more

sweat drenches my clothes

but thinking of the next world

nothing feels like suffering

Warm and welcoming

Amitabha’s radiance

shines down perfectly

illuminating shadows

like the moon in the night sky

I sing a mirror

reflecting all perfectly

round and unclouded

the shape of my staring face

leaves no trace on its surface

Awakening from

a dream of Mishima’s Shrine

in this holy place–

though called Secondary Shrine

the Buddha’s form is the same

All who visit here

must leave it all behind them

eventually–

as you come, offer prayers

for guidance to the next world

In the present world

he is the god Eight Banners

patron of archers–

in the world to come he is

the savior, Amitabha

Coming to a pause

at the Hall of Prostrations

while you rest your feet

chant Namu Amida Bu

and read out Buddhist scriptures

Provincial Temple

built to pray for the nation

and all its people

the Medicine Lord within

blesses the land of Iyo

Mountainside temple

surrounded by peaks and cliffs

built up tall and broad

that the Universal Light

may shine to save all people

Fragrant Glade Temple–

all who fear the afterlife

should come straight away

bathe in the unstoppable

stream of the White Waterfall

Early summer rain

soaks the earth and then flows out

in the Jewel Well

gushing forth like a river

at Shiratsubo’s Great Shrine

With every step

striking stains of evil speech

from my tired body–

all must pray with constant hope

for help from Vaiśravaṇa

With the Gods in front

and Enlightened Ones behind

all of my misdeeds

are smashed by the sledgehammer

of perfect, abiding bliss

Though a grizzled ghost

wearing a tri-cornered band

should appear to you

with a mind like the full moon

remember Amitabha

At last I’ve arrived

at the temple in the wilds

surrounded by clouds

below, all the memories

of days spent in the valley

Small but strong, the pines

and the temple named for them–

when I catch a glimpse

the warm breeze of the Teaching

gently blows across my face

The sound of a flute

wind that rushes through the pines

a plucked koto string

joyous sounds of song and dance

the voices of the Teaching

Sound-Perceiving One

if the strength of your mercy

is so powerful

I beg you, pull me along

though my misdeeds are heavy

By whose gentle hand

were this mountain’s bright flowers

planted in the ground?

I pluck one with my fingers,

an offering to the Buddhas

Deep Valley Temple–

on the road you were beset

by evildoers

but here, if only briefly

taste the goodness of friendship

Mandala Temple–

praying for a moment here

a person needs just

two or three more rebirths before

they attain Awakening

To save all beings

who wander in the six realms

of ceaseless rebirth

the Buddha Shakyamuni

appeared upon this mountain

The Twelve Generals

stand forever by my side

in all my battles

my mind is stalwart, fearless,

as firm as Armored Mountain

If I were to stay

at this temple, my mind’s light

would never flicker–

the good road is brightened by

the lamp of the Buddhas’ vows

I tell you truly

if you open the doors of

Golden Buddha Hall

you will be overwhelmed by

the wondrous power of mantras

I bring my prayers to

the One who waits inside where

the Buddha Way thrives

desiring to gaze upon

the rising moon of Bodhi

Dancing and chanting

Amitabha’s name within

Training Ground Temple

the Saint Ippen struck his bell

and prepared for his next life

We must always strive

to attain abiding bliss

in this floating world

where even the emperors

wander like hungry phantoms

Land split by mountains–

I scramble along cliffside roads

temple to temple

a thousand hands stretch out to

anyone who dares to come

The frigid hoarfrost

turns the temple sparkling white

just before dawn breaks

still, the chanting voices rise

proclaiming the Buddha Way

At twilight I thought

the frost would never melt, but

the dawn sees it gone

the bells of morning prayers

blend with the chanting voices

At the Premier Shrine

in the land of Sanuki

I pay my respects

even among the pious

who can know the great god’s mind?

On Eight Isle Plateau

visit the Shrine of arrows

and catalpa bows–

you’ll gain a soldier’s courage

if you offer up your prayers

Every affliction

burns up in the wisdom flames

bursting from my chest–

apart from those who practice

who could know such joy as this?

Though it’s sad to say

if not now then someday soon

death will come for me–

in the temple thinking thus

chanted prayers caress my ears

Treading mountain paths

among the songs of wild birds

at Long Tail Temple–

I’ll keep vigil through the night

chanting Amitabha’s name

Namah, Healing Lord

rescue from all ills, I beg,

those who pray to you

now and in all time to come

at the Temple of the Cave

Goeika: Songs of the Shikoku Pilgrimage

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