Hotaru no hikari
Hotaru no hikari, Mado no yuki
Fumi yomu tsukihi kasane tsutsu
Itsushika toki mo sugi no to wo
Aketezo kesa wa wakare yukuLyricist:INAGAKI Chikai
Composer:Unknown
in 1881
The light of fireflies
The light of fireflies, the snow at the window,
Accumulating days and months of reading books,
How quickly the years have passed,
Opening the door this morning, we part ways.
- “Hotaru no Hikari” Echoes in Graduation Season—What Memories Do You Have?
- A Scottish Import—Actually Born Abroad
- What Are “Firefly Light” and “Window Snow”?
- Now a Signal for Closing Time—How Its Use Has Changed
- Graduation Ceremonies, Tears, and “Hotaru no Hikari”—A March Tradition
- Not Understood by Foreign Tourists?—The Changing Role of “Hotaru no Hikari”
- Not Just Goodbye—”Hotaru no Hikari” Will Continue to Resonate

“Hotaru no Hikari” Echoes in Graduation Season—What Memories Do You Have?
As March draws to a close and cherry blossom buds begin to swell, the melody of “Hotaru no Hikari” can be heard from shops across Japan. This song, which accompanies graduation ceremonies, farewell parties, and year-end closings, evokes feelings that are somehow bittersweet yet warm. What history and meaning lie behind this tune that every Japanese person knows?
The Nairobi Japanese School/ナイロビ日本人学校 – The Nairobi Japanese School/ナイロビ日本人学校, CC 表示-継承 4.0, リンクによる
A Scottish Import—Actually Born Abroad
“Hotaru no Hikari” actually borrowed its melody from the Scottish folk song “Auld Lang Syne,” which means “old good times.” This song was popularized in the late 18th century by poet Robert Burns. In Western countries, it’s still a standard tune sung at New Year’s Eve parties and farewell gatherings.
In Japan, the current lyrics were added in 1881 during the Meiji era. It was truly a time of “Japanese spirit with Western learning.” You might say this song symbolizes the Meiji era, infusing Western music with Japanese sentiment.
What Are “Firefly Light” and “Window Snow”?
The title’s “Hotaru no Hikari” (Firefly Light) and “Mado no Yuki” (Window Snow) are actually symbols of studious students.
“Firefly Light” comes from a Chinese story about a poor student who collected fireflies to study by their faint light. Similarly, “Window Snow” refers to how snow accumulated on windows at night would reflect moonlight and brighten a room.
There might be modern versions like “reading textbooks by smartphone light,” but essentially, the message is “maintain your desire to learn regardless of your circumstances.” It carries a somewhat preachy but passionate message for Meiji-era children.
“keisetsu no kou” is a Japanese idiom that means “the fruits of hard work in study.”
Now a Signal for Closing Time—How Its Use Has Changed
The role of “Hotaru no Hikari” has changed with the times. During the Meiji era, it was a song encouraging young people to strive for success. After World War II, it became purely a song celebrating new journeys, and from the 1960s, it became established as department stores’ and shops’ signal for “we’re closing soon.”
It’s actually quite remarkable that people understand “it’s time to leave” just from background music playing. This might be a unique culture—a distinctly Japanese form of communication that conveys messages through “atmosphere” rather than words.
Graduation Ceremonies, Tears, and “Hotaru no Hikari”—A March Tradition
Have you ever experienced “trying not to cry but almost couldn’t hold back”?
March graduation ceremonies. While many might not remember the principal’s speech from the podium, the melody of “Hotaru no Hikari” that played at the end remains etched in many hearts.
As the ceremony nears its end and the piano prelude begins, tears that had been bravely held back start to fall. Even boys who thought “I won’t cry” somehow feel their eyes welling up. Current students begin singing, and graduating students join in harmony. Casual conversations in classrooms, lunchtime in the schoolyard, the excitement of cultural festivals—all these memories rush back at once.
“Hotaru no Hikari” sees off students in their uniforms, clutching albums as they exit the school gates. It’s a curious song that says “goodbye” while seemingly encouraging you with a “do your best” push from behind.
In fact, this moment when “everyone can cry together” might be a precious “officially sanctioned emotional release time” in Japanese society, which typically restrains emotional expression. Foreigners are often surprised when they witness this scene at Japanese graduation ceremonies.
By Asturio Cantabrio – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Link
Not Understood by Foreign Tourists?—The Changing Role of “Hotaru no Hikari”
I’ve noticed something recently: when “Hotaru no Hikari” plays in department stores, foreign tourists show no sign of leaving…
While 100% of Japanese people understand “Hotaru no Hikari” as a signal for “time to leave,” to foreigners it’s just background music. With the increase in inbound tourism, many stores now use multilingual announcements or introduce more obvious closing signals.
It’s a little sad that more people don’t know this song’s special meaning, but conversely, explaining the cultural background of “Hotaru no Hikari” to foreigners could be an opportunity to deepen their understanding of Japanese culture.
Not Just Goodbye—”Hotaru no Hikari” Will Continue to Resonate
At the end of March, as cherry blossoms begin to bloom, “Hotaru no Hikari” echoes throughout the city. Though it seems to announce an “ending,” it actually contains expectations for a “new beginning” as well.
Even as its meaning changes with the times, this song continues to accompany the season of farewells and new encounters. What memories are connected to the “Hotaru no Hikari” that resonates in your heart? Perhaps this year too, new memories of “Hotaru no Hikari” are being etched into someone’s heart.
▼There are various theories about which school first sang “Hotaru no Hikari” at a graduation ceremony, but the theory that it was “Tokyo Shihan Gakkou (Tokyo Normal School / currently University of Tsukuba)” is considered most plausible. Before relocating to Tsukuba City in Ibaraki Prefecture, it was located in Bunkyo Ward, Tokyo. The site is now “Kyouiku no Mori Park (Education Forest Park).”


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