Prevod

This, too, is a tale of long ago. After Lord Midō, the Regent, had founded Hōjōji, he went there every day. He kept a white dog of which he was very fond, and it always accompanied him, never leaving his side. One day, when the dog was with him as usual and he was about to pass through the gate, it ran about barking, barring his way as though determined not to let him enter. “What is this?” he said, and stepped down from his carriage to go in, but the dog seized the hem of his robe in its teeth and tried to hold him back. “There must be some reason for this,” he said. He had a stool brought over, sat down, and sent a messenger to summon Seimei at once. Seimei came immediately. When the Regent asked him what this behavior might mean, Seimei performed a brief divination and replied, “Someone has buried an object in the path to lay a curse upon you, my lord. Had you crossed over it, you would have come to harm. The dog is a creature with supernatural powers and was warning you.” “Then where is it buried?” the Regent asked. “Show me.” “That is easily done,” Seimei replied. After another brief divination, he indicated a spot, saying, “It is here.” The Regent had the ground dug up, and at a depth of about five feet they found an object, just as Seimei had foretold. It consisted of two earthenware dishes placed face to face and bound crosswise with yellow twisted-paper cord. When they opened them, there was nothing inside: only a single character written in cinnabar on the bottom of one dish. “No one besides me knows this art,” said Seimei. “Unless perhaps the monk Dōma has done this. I shall investigate.” He took a piece of paper from his robe, twisted it into the shape of a bird, recited a spell over it, and tossed it into the air. At once it became a white heron and flew south. “Follow that bird and see where it alights,” he ordered, sending a servant running after it. The bird flew in through the double folding doors of an old house near Rokujō Bōmon and Madenokōji. The master of the house proved to be an elderly monk, whom they promptly bound and brought before the Regent. Asked why he had laid the curse, he said that he had done so at the urging of Lord Akimitsu, the Horikawa Minister of the Left. “Ordinarily you would be sentenced to exile for this, but the blame does not lie with you, Dōma,” the Regent said. He warned him never to do such a thing again and sent him back to his native province of Harima. After his death, Lord Akimitsu became a vengeful spirit and brought afflictions upon Lord Midō’s household. He was known as the Evil-Spirit Minister of the Left, so the story goes. As for the dog, the Regent cherished it all the more.