The ballad that brings tears to eyes is one where a mother, enduring the winter cold in her rural village, tenderly knits gloves and sends them to her child living far away in the city, her heart full of longing. The rustic dialect in the song creates a sense of distance between mother and child.

But, KUBOTA Satoshi, the lyricist and composer behind this poignant piece, was born and raised in Tokyo. Despite entering university, driven by a passion for literature, he’s rumored to have fled home, carrying the funds given by his parents for tuition. Alongside his work, he engaged in the vibrant “Utagoe undou” (Singing Voice Movement) of that era. Shortly after the war, many students leaned towards leftist activism, yearning for revolution. KUBOTA joined the Communist Party, only to be expelled after a few years, yet the melody he crafted seems touched by the essence of Russian folk tunes, perhaps from that time.

Eventually, KUBOTA’s whereabouts were discovered by his elder brother, leading to parcels arriving from his mother, now concerned for his well-being. It’s said that these experiences, intertwined with memories of Shinshu where he had sought refuge during wartime, contributed to the birth of this song.

As time advanced and the distance between rural and urban life lessened, this song still resonates deeply, perhaps because it strikes a chord within the depths of the Japanese soul, where those sensitive strings are eternally plucked.

“Sand dunes.” This song depicts the scene of a Japan Sea beach on the verge of harsh winter, with rough waves approaching.

As dusk sets in, the voices of children bidding “goodbye” and “see you tomorrow” overlap with the chirping of sparrows.

The poet KITAHARA Hakushu once said,

“I watch sparrows. Always watching. Not just watching, but always being with sparrows, flying and chirping along with them.”

Visible beyond the sea is Sado (or Sado Island), viewed from Yoriihama in Niigata Prefecture, the setting of this song.

Sado, once prosperous with gold and silver mines, like the juniper plains of Silverberry field, a famous spot in Niigata Town as a sandy coast during the Edo period, gradually faded into obscurity with the passage of time. Perhaps this song, too, might be unknown to the youth of modern-day Japan.

The song’s lyrics, with the tempo of a round, lovely apple murmuring, are perfectly matched with a melody tinged with shame and melancholy.

The lyricist, TAKEUCHI_Toshiko, is said to have written the lyrics while gazing at the apple on his bed, which he received as a visit during her hospitalization. This was in the early Showa period. Farmers, especially those in the Tohoku region where apples were grown, were in a difficult situation, and many families sold their daughters. This song may have depicted such a situation. When the lyrics are read with the historical background in mind, they can be taken as the words of a daughter who was sold to a brothel in the city to make ends meet, murmuring about her hometown. The background of the song is painful, but the melody has a lightness to it that makes it all the more sad.

At the lined-up shops from various places…Meiji Era

Yoshiwara Yuukaku in 1930s

Daughter Peddling Counseling Center Posting

Considering such a historical background, one cannot help but be struck by the sadness of the daughters who look up at the sky and think of their hometowns without complaining.

“Tooryanse (Go on through)” is a well-known Warabe uta (children’s folk song) that has been passed down since the Edo period.It is said that MOTOORI_Nagayo composed the music for use in a children’s opera in 1921.

However, this song is accompanied by mysterious rumors. It involves a negotiation between those who wish to pass through the road to visit Tenjin-sama and those who question the reasons for doing so. In the end, permission is granted, but it sounds as if a warning is given, “You can go, but be careful on your way back,” imbuing a somewhat suspicious nuance. The unique melody also adds to this impression.

One significant reason for the mysterious atmosphere may be associated with the legend of the vengeful spirit of SUGAWARA_no_Michizane. Recognized for his talent and promising future, he fell victim to conspiracy, faced false accusations, and met an untimely death. Subsequently, disasters occurred frequently, and he came to be feared as the curse of Michizane. To appease his spirit, he was enshrined as “Tenjin-sama,” a deity still revered as the god of learning. Dazaifu Tenmangu Shrine in Fukuoka is a representative shrine dedicated to him. Kitano Tenmangu Shrine in Kyoto was depicted on the old 5-yen bill along with the portrait of Michizane.

Photo: Knowledgekid87
5 Yen Note: The Bank of Japan – Picture from cellphone
Previously published: N/A, パブリック・ドメイン, リンクによる

Also, the lyrics mention “celebrating this child’s 7th birthday” and “to deposit a talisman,” but in Japan, there is an old saying, “Tsu ga tsuku uchi wa kami no uchi” (As long as ‘Tsu’ is attached, it is the same as a deity), which means that from 1 year old represented by “Hitotsu” to 9 years old represented by “Kokonotsu”, they are considered the same as a deity. It is also said, “Nanatsu madewa kaminoko” (Up to seven, they are children of a deity). This means that they are beings close to the world where the deity resides, and it can’t be helped if they return to the deity at any time. In other words, it represents being adjacent to “death”. In fact, in the past, the mortality rate of infants without resistance was high, and “Shichi Go San (753)” is an event to thank the deity for being able to live up to that year. By the way, 3 and 7 years old are for girls, and 5 years old is for boys. The “child” sung in “Tooryanse” is probably a 7-year-old girl. There are regions that call exceeding 9 years old with ‘Tsu’ and becoming 10 years old (Tou) as “Tsubanare”.In some regions, the age of 10 (Tou) is called “Tsubanare” after the age of 9 with “Tsu”.

Regarding the phrase “Iki wa yoiyoi, Kaeri wa kowai,” it is suggested that the setting of the song, Sanyono Shrine in Kawagoe City, Saitama Prefecture, within Kawagoe Castle, had strict surveillance by watchful soldiers. Therefore, the expression “scary” might have been used to convey the meaning of “I’ll let you go, but be cautious on your way back.” Since it is close to Tokyo, I encourage you to visit and explore it sometime.

SUGAWARA_no_Michizane was fond of plum blossoms and used them on his crest.

Mount Fuji, deeply loved by the Japanese people, is admired for its symmetrical beauty and sense of stability. It has been a motif in various works of art and has recently attracted many foreign tourists, contributing to its lively atmosphere.

“Akafuji” by KATSUSHIKA Hokusai

“Kanagawa oki namiurai” by KATSUSHIKA Hokusai

Recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage Site as a symbol of Japan, its history as such is surprisingly recent. It was designated as a World Heritage Site in 2013, twenty years after the first site in Japan, the “Buddhist Monuments in the Horyu-ji Area” in Nara Prefecture, which was designated in 1993.

In 1992, the “Council for Making Mount Fuji a World Heritage Site,” composed of nature conservation groups from Yamanashi and Shizuoka prefectures, was established. Despite efforts like signature campaigns, environmental degradation caused by constant trash and human waste from climbers prevented it from being nominated as a ‘World Natural Heritage’ site during domestic reviews.

Google 画像検索結果: https://mtfuji.nyanta.jp/pic3/pic-jam03.jpg

images.app.goo.gl

Consequently, the target was shifted to ‘World Cultural Heritage,’ and in 2013, this long-held ambition was realized with Mount Fuji’s registration as a World Heritage Site.

Historically, Mount Fuji has been a focal point of faith since ancient times. From the Edo period to the early Showa era, a simple teaching that involved worshipping Mount Fuji, devoting oneself to its spirit, and expressing gratitude became widespread among common people. This faith, known as ‘Fujiko,’ is depicted in UTAGAWA Hiroshige’s “The Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido.” Practitioners would visit Mount Fuji, worship at the main Fuji Sengen Shrine, and then perform ascetic practices like the Fujiko Hakkai Meguri.

“Toukaidou gojyu-san tsugi” Hara by UTAGAWA Hiroshige

It’s worth noting that while some cultures interpret mountain worship as primitive faith, in Japan, it is understood not merely as animism but as part of the belief in ‘Yaoyorozu no Kami’ (Eight Million Gods). In this context, I encourage foreign visitors to consider why this mountain has been worshipped by the Japanese people.

That said, regardless of the various rationales, many Japanese people rejoice and take photos when they see Mount Fuji. As IWAYA Sazanami wrote, “Fuji is Japan’s greatest mountain.”

In public bathhouses “Sentou”, which served as a place of relaxation for the common people and a place for social interaction, there were almost always various paintings of Mount Fuji. It may be difficult to find them now.

100 Best Japanese Songs

The song “Senro wa tsuzuku yo dokomademo” is a beloved children’s song in Japan. Loved by people of all ages, from children to adults, this song has an intriguing history and cultural background.

The song was born in Japan in 1962, a time when the country was experiencing rapid economic recovery and development of its railway network after World War II. Japan was entering a period of high economic growth, marked by the introduction of bullet trains and intercity express trains. Railways became a symbol of economic progress, and people found hope in the idea that regions were becoming interconnected and new possibilities were emerging through rail travel.

The roots of this song trace back to the American labor song “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the construction of the transcontinental railroad was underway in the United States, connecting the East and West coasts. Many laborers worked in harsh conditions, singing songs to boost morale. “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” emerged from this background and spread among workers, its powerful melody reflecting their pride and determination.

Andrew J. Russell パブリック・ドメイン, リンクによる

The song “Senro wa tsuzuku yo dokomademo” became popular in Japan partly due to the influence of American culture. After the war, Japan saw rapid economic recovery, and the education system was reformed, placing a greater emphasis on music education. It was during this time that “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” was introduced to Japan. Japanese lyrics were created based on the original English lyrics, expressing a sense of adventure and anticipation for the future through the theme of railways. The strong spirit of the American railroad workers resonated with Japan’s aspirations for economic growth, and as a result, the song became widely loved.

In 2022, Japanese railways celebrated their 150th anniversary. The history of Japanese railways has greatly influenced the nation’s economic growth and modernization. The first railway in Japan opened in 1872, connecting Shimbashi and Yokohama, a distance of about 29 kilometers. This marked the beginning of Japan’s railway history and a revolution in domestic transportation. Since then, Japan’s railway network has continued to expand and evolve through the Meiji, Taisho, Showa, and Heisei eras to the present day. The opening of the Tokaido Shinkansen in 1964 was a landmark event in Japanese railway history, connecting Tokyo and Osaka as the world’s first high-speed railway. The Shinkansen significantly contributed to Japan’s economic development.

Baidō Kunimasa – http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/cph.3g10426http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/cph.3g10424http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/cph.3g10425, パブリック・ドメイン, リンクによる

In Japan, railways have played a crucial role not only as a means of transportation but also in regional development and tourism promotion. In local cities, railways are the lifeline of the regional economy, and tourist trains are popular attractions. The development of the railway network has expanded people’s living areas and created a virtuous cycle of economic activity.

Japan has a large number of railway enthusiasts, often referred to as “tetsudo mania” or “tetsudo otaku.” There are several reasons why there are so many railway fans in Japan. One is the diversity and appeal of various types of trains. From bullet trains and express trains to commuter trains, local lines, sightseeing trains, and steam locomotives, there are many different types of trains, each with its unique features and history. These characteristics make trains a fascinating subject for exploration. Additionally, as expressed in the lyrics “Over fields, over mountains, and over valleys,” the enjoyment of various landscapes from the train window is a significant reason for the large number of railway fans. This sense of excitement is encapsulated in the title “Senro wa tsuzuku yo dokomademo” (The Tracks Go On and On).

The railway culture in Japan is very detailed, with a wealth of information available. Railway companies actively share information on the introduction of new trains, timetable changes, and events, providing constant new discoveries for railway fans. Railway models, books, magazines, and TV programs are also abundant, further stimulating the interests of railway enthusiasts. Numerous railway fan communities exist in Japan, and railway-related events are frequently held. Railway museums, preserved railways, and exhibitions serve as places for railway fans to interact and share information, further deepening railway culture.

“Senro wa tsuzuku yo dokomademo” is not just a children’s song but is deeply connected to Japan’s railway culture and history. The song’s sense of adventure and anticipation for the future overlaps significantly with the development of Japanese railways. Through this song, children may develop an interest in railways, which they can carry into adulthood. Railways are not just a means of transportation but a vehicle carrying the dreams and hopes of many people. As the title “Senro wa Tsuzuku yo Doko Made mo” suggests, Japanese railways, too, will continue to extend into the future.

I hope this article serves as a source of new discoveries and interests for railway enthusiasts and those intrigued by the song “Senro wa Tsuzuku yo Doko Made mo.” By reflecting on the history of Japan that has progressed alongside railways and reaffirming its charm, I hope to contribute to the further development of railway culture.

By the way, when traveling in Japan using public transportation such as trains, the “Welcome Suica” in the link below is convenient.
This is a prepaid electronic money card that can be used for transportation and shopping such as trains, buses and taxis all over Japan. Rechargeable without deposit, valid for 28 days. It seems that you can change it as a souvenir after using it.

The song “Mushi no koe,” published as a Ministry of Education song in 1910, celebrates the rich and varied sounds of insects chirping in the autumn grass. This song embodies the unique Japanese aesthetic sense of “furyu,” which appreciates the elegance of nature. While in the West, insect sounds are often considered noise, in Japan, they have long been cherished as a refined way to enjoy the arrival of autumn.

For Japanese people, the sounds of insects are not just noises but essential elements that signify the change of seasons. This sensitivity is frequently depicted in ukiyo-e (Japanese woodblock prints), which often feature insects and their habitats. In Kanazawa’s Higashi Chaya District, traditional teahouse buildings with beautiful lattice windows called “kimusuko” remain. The term “kimusuko” itself, meaning “wooden insect cage,” symbolizes elegance and reflects the Japanese aesthetic that values the sounds of insects. Such architectural designs also illustrate the Japanese appreciation for the beauty of insect sounds.

歌川広重 – Online Collection of Brooklyn Museum; Photo: Brooklyn Museum, 41.469_IMLS_PS3.jpg, パブリック・ドメイン, リンクによる

A machiya with a “kimusukago” design, characterized by fine, regular slits that look like insect cages. At Higashi chayamachi , Kanazawa.

The song’s lyrics use onomatopoeia to vividly express the sounds of insects, creating a unique rhythm and resonance that deeply touches the listener’s heart. For instance, the phrases “chinchiro chinchiro chinchororin. Rinrin rinrin riinrin.” and “kirikiri kirikiri kirigirisu. Gachaya gachaya gachaya gachaya kutsuwamushi. Chon chon chon chon suitchon.” are used. However, there is an anecdote about how the scientific observation that “kirigirisu (katydid) does not chirp ‘kiri kiri,’ but it is the cricket that does” led to a correction in the lyrics, demonstrating an intriguing conflict between scientific accuracy and literary expression.

However, the advancement of modernization and urbanization has led to a decline in the appreciation of such elegant sensibilities. The increase in residential areas and environmental changes have reduced the habitats of insects, making it harder to hear their sounds. Despite this, there has been a recent resurgence of interest in this refined pastime, driven by a return to traditional Japanese values.

松岡明芳 – 投稿者自身による著作物, CC 表示-継承 3.0, リンクによる

“Mushi no koe” is a song that reminds us of the Japanese spirit of elegance. Through this song, we hope to help people rediscover the beauty of nature and the changing seasons, and revive the fading appreciation for these subtle natural sounds.

Obon is a custom to express gratitude to deceased ancestors, or in other words, to the bloodline that has connected one’s life to one’s own.

Originally, it was held around July 15 on the lunar calendar, but when the new calendar was introduced in the Meiji era (1868-1912), July 15 fell during the busy farming season, so it was moved one month later to around August 15 in many areas. Many companies and stores set their “Obon vacations” to coincide with this date, and since it also coincided with the end of the war, it seems to have taken root as a time to mourn those who had passed away. Therefore, the custom has taken root as a time to return to one’s parents’ home, similar to the winter New Year’s holiday. In recent years, however, many people consider it a time to enjoy leisure activities rather than to return home.

The custom of visiting graves and making offerings at home to welcome ancestors during Obon remains even in the 21st century. In such cases, cucumbers are sometimes used as horses and eggplants as cows, and decorations are sometimes made with the idea of having ancestors come early with the cucumber horses and return home slowly with the eggplant cows.

This “Itsuki no komoriuta” is not a lullaby to soothe a baby, but a “Moriko Uta,” a song about one’s circumstances, having been sent away from home because of poor birth and given the job of babysitting in a wealthy family. In Japan, 75% of the land is covered by forests, and the amount of land available for cultivation is much smaller than one might imagine. Therefore, men who could do the heavy lifting from the small harvest were given priority, and girls and elderly people were often sent to serve as “Kuchiberashi” or killed.

This song was sung in Itsukimura, Kuma-gun, Kumamoto Prefecture, and became known throughout Japan after World War II when it was recorded. However, it is not widely known that there is a continuation of the lyrics listed here.

Odon ga ucchinda chuute
dare ga naite kuryoka
ura no Matsuyama, semi ga naku

Even if I die,
Who will cry for me?
Perhaps only the cicadas on the pine-covered hill behind the house.

Semi ja gojansen
imouto de gozarū
imouto nakunayo ki ni kakaru

It’s not the cicadas,
It’s my younger sister.
Don’t cry, sister, it worries me.

Odon ga ucchindara
michibata cha ikero
tooru hito gochi hana agyuu

When I die,
Bury me by the roadside,
So I can give flowers to passersby.

Hana wa nan no hana
tsun tsun tsubaki
mizu wa ten kara moraimizu

What kind of flowers would they be?
The sharp, pointed camellia.
And the water will come from heaven.

There is a saying in Japan, “Autumn days are like the falling of a tsurube”. The autumn sun sets and sets as early as the falling of a well bucket. It is a metaphor for the early dusk of autumn.

tsurube ido

Children are chasing dragonflies in the clear blue autumn sky and shining sunlight, losing track of time. Then, in no time at all, it is sunset time. Such was the scene that poet and physician NUKAGA Seishi saw on his way home from a house call four years after World War II. The passage of time, which had finally come and gone in a leisurely and tranquil way, is expressed by comparing it to the sun reflected in the large eyes of a dragonfly.

Otento sama in the story is an ancient Japanese term for the sun, another meaning of which is “god,” who watches over humans to prevent them from doing bad things. A typical example is the phrase “Otento sama ni kaomuke ga dekinai,” which is used when one has done something bad or embarrassing.

It has been selected as one of “100 Best Japanese Songs”.

“Makka na Aki” (which translates to “Bright Red Autumn”) is a beloved Japanese children’s song that reflects the emotions of children who want to continue playing outside, even as the autumn days grow shorter and the evening approaches earlier. The song captures a moment of childhood innocence and joy, where the change of seasons from summer to autumn brings new experiences and colors, yet also signals the end of long, sun-filled days.

When this song was first introduced in the 1960s, Japan was undergoing a significant period of transformation. The nation was rapidly modernizing, and the rural, natural landscapes known as satoyama (a term used for traditional rural areas where people live in harmony with nature) were starting to decline. This shift was partly driven by the economic growth that followed Japan’s post-war recovery, and the successful hosting of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, the first ever held in Asia. These events symbolized a turning point for Japan, moving toward urbanization and industrialization, and consequently, the natural environment that children once played in was gradually disappearing.

Despite this trend, the song’s lyrics celebrate the beauty of a fully developed autumn landscape, rich in vibrant colors. The imagery of bright red leaves and crisp autumn air reminds listeners of the nature that still surrounded them in those times, offering children spaces to run and explore. The song can be seen as a tribute to the fleeting moments of nature that were still accessible in a rapidly changing world.

The song was written by lyricist SATSUMA Tadashi and composer KOBAYASHI Hideo, both born in 1931 in Tokyo. When “Makka na Aki” was first broadcast in 1965, both were 34 years old. Their childhood had been marked by the hardships of World War II and the destruction that came with it. Tokyo, the city where they grew up, had been devastated by air raids, and in the years following the war, it underwent a process of reconstruction and modernization. Given this context, it is possible that both creators felt a deep sense of nostalgia for the pre-war natural landscapes of their youth. They may have longed for a time when children could run freely in the countryside, before the pressures of modernization began to alter the city and its surroundings.

Water tank truck in Tokyo under the serious water crisis in 1964

This sense of nostalgia, combined with a recognition of the inevitable changes Japan was undergoing, may have influenced the creation of “Makka na Aki.” The song, therefore, does more than just celebrate autumn—it reflects a longing for the innocence of childhood, the beauty of nature, and the sense of freedom that was slowly being lost as the country modernized.

“Nanatsu no ko” is one of Japan’s most familiar children’s songs.

It is also well known as music played by local authorities to encourage children playing outside to return home in the evening.

The song depicts the universal love between parents and their children through the image of parent crows that descend to the village in search of food for their chicks waiting in the nest in the mountains. Notably, the song portrays crows, often seen as pests, as affectionate parent birds. This perspective, which sympathetically captures the fact that crows have parenting feelings no different from humans, is a significant reason for the work’s great popularity.

The original Japanese title is “Nanatsu no ko,” and there has been controversy over whether this is “seven children” or “seven-year-old children.

The prevailing theory was that a seven-year-old should already be an adult bird as a raven, so why not seven children? The prevailing theory was that “seven-year-olds” should have already reached maturity as crows, so why not use the title “seven children”? Wouldn’t that be more natural? There was an objection that “seven children” would be more natural. It is also said that crows do not raise as many as seven chicks at a time. This led to the theory that “raven” was a metaphor. The lyricist, Noguchi, was the first to suggest that the word “crow” was a metaphor. The lyricist, NOGUCHI Ujyou, was separated from his mother when he was 7 years old. Another theory is that Ujyou was born and raised in Kitaibaraki City, which used to be a prosperous coal-mining town, and the miners who worked in the dust were called “crows,” so he sang about them working for their families.

On the other hand, Ujyou, who could not adapt to his political marriage, took custody of his two children after the divorce. However, as the children cried every night longing for their mother, he decided to return them to her. It is said that he expressed his torn feelings as a father in a song during that time.

Incidentally, crows in Japan were often regarded as sacred birds. Yatagarasu, the symbol of the Japan Football Association, is a three-legged raven that is said to have guided Emperor Jinmu, the founder of Japan. In the Shugendo sect, which originated from mountain worship, the crow has also been regarded as a messenger of the gods.Crows also play an important role in the anime “Kimetsu no yaiba.

WolfgangMichel – 投稿者自身による著作物, CC 表示 3.0, リンクによる

Karasu-no-nureba-iro,” used to describe a woman’s beautiful black hair, refers to the deep, glossy, dark purple color of a crow’s wet feathers.

Where is “Desert of the Moon” set? When is the season?
Actually, there is no clear answer to either of those questions.

As for the setting, it is often said to be Onjyuku Beach in Chiba Prefecture, where the songwriter, Kato, who was frail, often visited to recuperate and later moved to make his final home. Kato himself is said to have publicly stated that this place was the model for the song after the town of Onjyuku_cho built a statue in commemoration of the Desert of the Moon.

As for the season, the word “oboro” appears in the story, so it must be spring, right? However, the tune of the song suggests a somber autumn.

onjyuku station

In fact, however, Kato is said to have said that it was totally imaginary. At the time, it was not easy to know what was going on in other countries, and the writer’s imagination resulted in these beautiful lyrics, which inspired the composer Sasaki to create this lyrical piece of music. Since Kato’s lyrics were published in the year of the Great Kanto Earthquake, the piece remains popular.

The song Ryoshuu, beginning with “Fukeyuku aki no yo, tabi no sora no” (“Autumn night deepens over the journeying sky”), was adapted into Japanese by lyricist INDOU Kyuukei in 1929 and remains a beloved classic in Japan.

John P. Ordway

The original song, Dreaming of Home and Mother, was composed in the 19th century by John P. Ordway, and its melancholic melody and lyrical lyrics evoke a unique sense of nostalgia and travel-worn longing that resonates deeply in the Japanese spirit.

INDOU is said to have first encountered the song while working as a music teacher at a girls’ school in Niigata. Far from his own hometown in Kumamoto Prefecture, he adapted the lyrics with his own feelings of homesickness in mind. This sense of longing for home weaves through the song’s melancholy melody, bringing to life universal themes that reflect the journey of life itself.

The opening line, “Fukeyuku aki no yo, tabi no sora no,” beautifully captures the heart of a traveler, reflecting on home as they journey through a quiet autumn night. Autumn, poised between summer’s vibrancy and winter’s calm, symbolizes a season of maturity and solitude. This seasonal mood, coupled with the loneliness of travel, enriches the song’s poignant, universal emotions of yearning and nostalgia.

Ryoshuu has long transcended its role as a simple “travel song.” It is beloved not only in Japan but also in China and Taiwan, where it is sung with unique local lyrics. Its themes—travel, homeland, and the passage of life—resonate across cultures, making the song widely cherished throughout East Asia.

Its popularity endures to this day, and it was selected as one of the “100 Best Japanese Songs.” Indō’s hometown in Kumamoto Prefecture has even built a memorial museum in his honor, celebrating his legacy and contribution to Japanese music.

“Bonfires” are now rarely seen from the perspective of disaster prevention,
In the 1940s, it was sometimes held in the streets of Tokyo and in general parks.

The place where TATSUMI Seika, the lyricist, lived and wrote the lyrics,
It is a residential area about 5 minutes from “Arai Yakushi” station on the Seibu Shinjuku Line.

This song, contrary to its cheerful melody, walks through a history of adversity. It first appeared in 1941, scheduled for a three-day consecutive radio broadcast, but at the same time, Japan entered the Pacific War. The broadcast was forced to stop on the second day. There seemed to be a directive from military sources stating, “Even fallen leaves are valuable fuel sources. Burning anything that can be used to heat baths or cook in a bonfire is unacceptable.” As the war intensified, bonfires were said to become targets, leading to their complete suppression.

Even after the war, the broadcasting permission was withheld due to concerns about provoking riots from the perspective of maintaining public order, but it is said that by gradually accumulating small established facts, approval was finally granted retroactively.

Bonfires gather people in the cold season. Conversations are born when people gather.

If this kind of scenery is born again, I think that the enjoyment of the area will increase.

Interestingly, while older generations tend to associate campfires with roasting sweet potatoes, younger people nowadays are more likely to think of toasting marshmallows.

100 Best Japanese Songs