(a)

Mrs. Yuan's gift was sent to the old man, and at the same time, Mrs. Yuan's words were passed on. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

The old man took the delicate drum handed over by the maid with trembling hands.

When the figure of the maid disappeared, there was nothing left, and the old man, who had only one thought left, began to beat the drum impatiently. -- but he immediately fell into great despair.

The reason why this drum is so delicate is that it is made from the silk satin that Madame Yuan used to make clothes.

It has the shape of a drum, but it is completely filled with solid cloth.

To be precise, it's just a solid drum-shaped pillow made of fabric.

No matter how hard you try to hit it, it will only collapse softly into it without making any loud sound.

Listening to the tiny popping sound of the drum, the old man couldn't stand, and his feet went limp, and he immediately collapsed to the ground.

No! He didn't believe it was Mrs. Zaiyuan's will.

She obviously said to herself that day: "I like you very much." ”

She had obviously looked at him affectionately with such affectionate eyes!

He knew very well in his heart that Mrs. Zaiyuan gave him this silk drum to tell him that he would never see each other in the future, and also asked him to forget the events of that day.

But he wouldn't believe it. He felt that this must not be in the mind of Mrs. Yuan herself.

She must have been coerced in some way, or someone had impersonated her!

(b)

For the next few days, the old man was reluctant to do anything more.

Every day and every night, he sat in the courtyard, beating the silent silk drum desperately.

He was hitting the drum with his life, but he still couldn't let it

Make any noise.

The dust and fallen leaves in the courtyard were accumulating higher and higher. But he didn't know anything about it. He felt that there was only one thing in his life that he could do.

Finally, the old man's slackness was discovered by the director of the inner courtyard of the palace.

He was severely reprimanded and beaten. The aya drum was also torn and thrown aside.

The superintendent of the inner court warned that if he was found to be negligent in his duties the next time, he would be killed on the spot or expelled from the court, and left to die of starvation in the streets.

In fact, these two endings are the same for the old man.

If you leave the place where Mrs. Yuan is, you don't have to freeze and starve, he will also die on the spot.

(c)

On the night after the beating, the old man sat in the courtyard all night.

He never stopped beating the tattered drum.

He had the last glimmer of fantasy in his heart. Perhaps, Heaven can hear the last voice of a dying man. After all, I don't have any other thoughts than to see this beautiful woman again.

Yet, as we have often seen in life, God did not respond clearly to his desires with compassion.

At dawn, the miracle did not happen, and the drums still did not sound.

And the old man also knew very well that it was impossible for him to go back. He couldn't go back to the dead life of cleaning the courtyard like a transparent person every day.

The flame of his love is already raging, and it must devour something before it can be extinguished.

It must be fed with one's life in order to eliminate that hellish rage.

So, the old man realized that he had no way out.

Wherever he walked, death was encountered.

He had never felt so close to death.

He had never looked forward to his final death.

For the first time in his life, he felt that it was better to die than to continue to live.

So, what should have happened finally happened.

Once a seed is planted, it will eventually sprout.

Before the sky was bright and the head of the inner courtyard of the palace brought people to check the cleaning work of the courtyard again, the old man clung to the tattered silk drum and jumped into the lotus pond in the courtyard.

It was there that he ended his life.

When the inspector of the inner courtyard of the palace led the people into the courtyard, they saw a white-haired corpse floating among the blooming lotus flowers with its eyes open.

On the side of Mrs. Yuan, the aya drum sank to the bottom of the water and did not float up.

It sank in the lotus pond, and no one ever saw it again.

(iv)

When the news of the old man's tragic death reached Mrs. Yuan's ears, the guilt of death suddenly crushed her already empty heart.

As a result, this beautiful woman couldn't bear the burden of conscience, and coupled with the depression accumulated over the years after entering the palace, she went crazy all of a sudden.

She said repeatedly, "No! No! The drum I gave him was completely ready to be beaten! That's something to knock! Yes, he won't knock! It's his idiot who hasn't found a way to knock at all! It's not my fault! He can't blame me, he can only blame himself for being stupid! It's not my fault! No! It's none of my business! I didn't kill him! ”

She said these words over and over again, without eating or drinking, and huddled in her room, not allowing anyone to come in.

In this way, in the frenzy and panic of her heart, she went to the destruction of her own making.

(5)

I first saw this Noh performance in Osaka. At that time, I was so moved by the plot that I had the idea of adapting it again to form a new script.

When I saw the ending of this play, I felt that the ending of Mrs. Yuan was more of an expression of the author's sympathy or righteous indignation.

In fact, Mrs. Zaiyuan may not be crazy.

After all, this is nothing more than the early death of a subordinate who was supposed to die soon, or did he fall into the pond and drown himself?

Who knows?

Perhaps, the real Mrs. Zaiyuan will let out a long breath because of this, and will shed a few tears of compassion sadly, and her heart will be secretly happy. After all, the dead will no longer come to haunt them, and they will never speak again.

Perhaps, Mrs. Zai Yuan will also give some pension, and kindly instruct the supervisor to bury the old man properly.

I think this kind of ending may be closer to the everyday life that we are used to. If we can't bear the slightest bit of sin, how did our civilization come to this point?

Our ability to bear sin is actually very tenacious.

-- Women, children, and children, young and old, all of them are quite tenacious.

(f)

In the heroine of Mrs. Yuan, it is actually not what I paid attention to when I watched this Noh drama.

What struck me deeply was the desperation of the old man as he beat the drum.

This play captured me deeply, and it was all because of this deep, incorrigible despair.

I felt that this silent beating, a little thump, was hitting my heart.

I'm just that kind of old man. That's how I spend my life beating a drum that never sounds.

That's how I was, wasting my youth on an impossible wish, on a waiting for an impossible result.

And time and life pass by so quickly in this hopeless repetition.

After the show ended, I sat in the middle of the show for a while before I could stand up.

After I left, I wandered the streets of the neighborhood for a while.

For years after the show ended, I kept asking myself, "Should I stop beating that drum?" ”

(g)

I never answered this question to myself. But my actions have their own answers.

In fact, while I was confused in my mind about the correct answer to this question, my actions never stopped beating the drum.

Before I knew it, I had been knocking on it for more than 10 years.

Even as I write this line, I'm still tapping on it.

(viii)

However, I felt a little different. The difference is that I may no longer have the desire to cash in my tapping.

Because I've been knocking non-stop for so long, my persistence has gone beyond the ordinary realm of mortal feelings.

When I beat the drum now, I don't really have the hope of seeing the person I was waiting for again.

It was more of a religious gesture.

I knew it was hopeless, but I was still beating the drum with heart and concentration. It's more of a faith.

Just as we know that life is full of misfortune and pain, they will surround us like a flood and a flame, engulf us, our desires will be frustrated, our breathing will stop, our bodies will rot, and our love will be buried.

We still have to face all this calmly, we still have to seek peace and tranquility in the midst of all this torture, we still have to live every moment wholeheartedly, and we still have to cross it with an invincible attitude.

The drums don't ring. But our lives can sound like bells! This kind of sound can be resounded through the Ten Directions.

(ix)

Do you hear the sound that my ayako is already making on this story, on this website?