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.

“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.

“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

Walking through the town where snow falls silently. Does the melancholic melody depict the nighttime scenery? Along with that melody, the lyrics portray the wistful feelings within the heart. However, in the end, it concludes with a modulation that seems to deflect the coldness of the falling snow, evoking a sense of hope. The contrast between this scenery and the emotional tone is likely the reason for its enduring popularity.

Originally, it was hastily created to fill the gaps in radio dramas during downtime. Due to such circumstances, initially, there was only the first verse of lyrics. However, after it was aired, inquiries flooded in, leading to the addition of the second and third verses, ultimately resulting in its release as a record. It became a song sung for a long time, possibly resonating with the Japanese mentality.

While the exact setting of the song is unclear, it is said that the composer, NAKATA_Yoshinao, was inspired during a visit to Tsuruoka City in Yamagata Prefecture. The experience of being swayed through the winter night streets on a horse-drawn sled from the station reportedly sparked the idea.

Written as “Moon Mountain,” it is pronounced as Gassan. Located in Tsuruoka City, Yamagata Prefecture, Gassan is counted among the Dewa Sanzan, a trio of sacred mountains revered in the Shugendo tradition. Recognized for its significance in mountain worship by ascetic practitioners, it has also earned a place among Japan’s 100 Famous Mountains.

The “pechka,” a heating appliance born from the wisdom of northern peoples, is a type of stove that combines the functions of a fireplace and a stove. It has evolved uniquely in different regions. In Scandinavia, stone pechkas, primarily made of granite due to its low thermal conductivity, are characteristic. It is believed they maintained consistent room temperatures by leveraging the stone’s heat retention properties.

In Russia, brick pechkas became dominant, often featuring elegant decorations while maintaining practicality. Records from mansions in St. Petersburg, the capital, document the existence of pechkas beautifully adorned with decorative tiles.

The pechka culture in Manchuria is considered to have been formed through a confluence of historical factors. The presence of Russian communities who settled in northeastern China, the influence of engineers involved in the construction of the Trans-Siberian Railway, and the arrival of Japanese migrants all intertwined to cultivate a distinctive style.

In the 1920s, Manchuria was in the midst of significant social transformation. The warlord conflicts following the Xinhai Revolution, the influx of Russian immigrants after the Siberian Intervention, and Japan’s full-fledged management of Manchuria created a historical landscape where different cultures met and merged.

During this period, the South Manchuria Educational Association commissioned the creation of songs for Japanese children living in the area. In response, KITAHARA Hakushuu wrote the lyrics and YAMADA Kousaku composed the music. It is said that during their visit to the region, they were exposed to a rich musical culture where Russian folk songs, Chinese folk songs, and Japanese songs intermingled, with the pechka as a central gathering point.

Later, the pechka was also introduced to Hokkaido. Documents from the Colonial Ministry record that Russian engineers, invited by the Meiji government, provided guidance, and the pechka was modified to suit the lives of Japanese people using locally available materials. Today, pechkas can still be seen in places like the Historical Village of Hokkaido, the former NAGAYAMA Takeshiro Residence, and the former Mitsubishi Mining Dormitory. In recent years, the thermal efficiency and heat retention of the pechka have garnered renewed attention due to environmental concerns, and new research incorporating the latest technologies has begun.

People gather around its warmth, engaging in casual conversations. One of the few joys of a cold winter is found around the pechka. The lyrics and music that evoke such scenes continue to be loved by many, even 100 years after their release.

It depicts the joy of snowfall from a child’s point of view.

The song is a cheerful depiction of snow falling in a rhythmic, incessant manner.
As the lyrics of the second verse suggest, the dog running happily around the yard can be compared to a child, and the cat curled up against the cold in a kotatsu, a table-type heater that has been loved in Japan for centuries, can be compared to an adult.

The official world record for the deepest snowfall, by the way, is about 12 meters, which was observed on February 14, 1927, at the weather station on Mount Ibuki (1377 meters above sea level) in Maibara, Shiga Prefecture, Japan. It is almost the same height as the Ootorii (second shrine gate) of Meiji Jingu Shrine.

By 江戸村のとくぞう (Edomura no Tokuzo) – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0,

According to one prevalent theory, the rich and fascinating history of skiing in Japan can be traced back to the year 1895, which is approximately 130 years ago. It is said that a soldier named Toshitane Matsukawa, who served in the Japanese army, traveled to Scandinavia and was captivated by the local culture and the winter sports practiced there. Upon his return to Japan, he brought back with him a pair of skis, which marked the very beginning of skiing as a recreational activity in the country. This moment is often seen as a pivotal point in the introduction of skiing to Japan, laying the groundwork for what would become a beloved winter pastime.

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About 75% of Japan’s land area is covered by mountains and hilly terrain.

Since that historic moment, the number of skiers in Japan has gradually but steadily increased over the years. The country’s diverse and mountainous terrain, coupled with its generous snowfall, has made skiing an appealing and accessible pastime for many. As more people discovered the joy of gliding down snowy slopes, ski resorts began to pop up across the nation, catering to both beginners and seasoned skiers alike. This growth in popularity has transformed skiing from a niche activity into a mainstream sport, enjoyed by families, friends, and individuals seeking adventure during the winter months.

The peak of skiing’s popularity in Japan occurred during the bubble economy of the 1980s. During this vibrant period, the number of skiers reached its highest level, leading to a surge in demand for ski resorts. Popular ski destinations experienced overwhelming crowds, with many skiers waiting in long lines for up to two hours just to access the lifts. This frenzy not only reflected the enthusiasm for skiing but also the economic prosperity of the time, where leisure activities were highly valued. The atmosphere at these ski resorts was electric, filled with laughter, excitement, and the joy of winter sports, making it a memorable era for skiing enthusiasts.

Many ski resorts in Japan are not just about skiing; they also offer a unique blend of winter sports and relaxation. A significant number of these resorts feature hot spring facilities, allowing guests to unwind and rejuvenate after a long day on the slopes. The experience of soaking in a steaming hot spring while surrounded by the beautiful snowy landscape is an integral part of the Japanese winter experience. After skiing, many people look forward to warming up in the hot springs, and some even venture out to enjoy the vibrant nightlife at nearby hot spring resorts. During these evenings, visitors can savor a variety of local delicacies that reflect the unique culinary traditions of each region, often accompanied by a glass of fine sake (Japanese rice wine). This combination of skiing, hot springs, and regional cuisine creates a harmonious winter retreat that attracts visitors from all over the country.

Japan is home to numerous ski resorts, particularly in regions known for their exceptional winter conditions. Hokkaido and Nagano Prefecture, both of which have hosted the Winter Olympics, are particularly famous for their world-class skiing facilities. These areas, along with the Tohoku and Jo-shinetsu regions, are bustling with activity during the winter months. Ski enthusiasts flock to these resorts to enjoy the pristine snow and well-maintained slopes. The atmosphere is lively, with families and friends coming together to create unforgettable memories on the slopes, making Japan a premier destination for winter sports lovers.

When the New Year arrives, this song is widely used in various television programs and is cherished by the Japanese people. However, it seems that many relate more to the bright melody, projecting hope for the new year, rather than delving into the meaning of the lyrics.

The first verse conveys the joy of celebrating the New Year in households, while the second verse juxtaposes the grandeur of the Emperor with the first sunrise. It evokes a nuance reminiscent of Japan’s national anthem, “Kimigayo”. This connection is quite apparent as both this song and “Kimigayo” were established in August 1893, with this song being presented as a Ministry of Education’s school song and “Kimigayo” being designated as a ceremonial music, suggesting a sibling-like relationship between them.

The lyricist, SENGE_Takatomi, held positions from Izumo-no-kuni-no-miyatsuko (an official responsible for the religious rituals and governance of Izumo Grand Shrine) to becoming a member of the Upper House, a member of the House of Peers, and the Governor of Tokyo Prefecture. He engaged in politics while being rooted in Shintoist ideology. Considering this, the content of the lyrics aligns well with his background. However, due to its highly dignified classical language, it appears that younger generations might lean towards appreciating the melody rather than the meaning. Moreover, the rhythm, possibly influenced by the classical language, might also have an impact.

Flow in edgewise – 撮影, CC 表示 3.0, リンクによる

Incidentally, I myself thought it was “Ichigatsu tsuitachi,” but the official name of the song is “Ichigatsu ichijitsu.

This song portrays late autumn to early winter with a melody that evokes the crispness of winter. The lyrics depict three scenes: a mist-covered early morning in a fishing village, a peaceful afternoon in a tranquil mountain village, and an evening that conveys the arrival of freezing winter. The language used in the lyrics is characterized by an elevated and archaic style that may be challenging for contemporary Japanese people to immediately understand. However, the popularity of the song lies not so much in the literal meaning of the words but in the vivid landscapes conveyed through the feel of the language.

Nevertheless, douyo-shouka seems to have many outstanding songs in triple meter. “Fuyugeshiki,” released in 1913, can be considered a representative and pioneering work in this regard. However, both the lyricist and composer remain unknown. It is suggested that the collaborative nature of the Ministry of Education’s songwriting process at that time may be a reason for the lack of attribution. Despite some cases being revealed in later years, this song still remains a mystery.

It has been selected as one of “Japan’s Top 100 Songs.”

Setsubun is the day that divides the seasons. Originally, it existed for each of the four seasons, but now only Setsubun remains to divide winter and spring, which falls on the day before the vernal equinox in early February (February 3 in 2024). This is the time of seasonal change, when the bad energy of the year is most accumulated. In addition, the cold weather makes it easy to fall ill. Therefore, it has taken root as an event to purify bad qi and pray for good health throughout the year. As a result, the custom of scattering beans and decorating holly and sardine heads was born to ward off evil spirits. The spiritual meaning of Setsubun is to purify one’s negative emotions and thoughts, and to prepare for the new season with a positive attitude.Many shrines and temples hold Setsubun events.

By – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Link

On Setsubun day, families generally eat dinner together. After dinner, they prepare beans for throwing and demon masks, and throw beans towards the inside and outside of the house while chasing the demon role wearing the mask. When throwing, it is customary to say “Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!” (Demons out! Luck in!). After the bean-throwing is over, they pick up and eat the same number of beans as their age. This is a charm to stay healthy for a year.

Holly and sardine heads are amulets to ward off evil spirits. Holly has many thorns and is said to prick bad energy. Sardine heads are said to find bad energy because sardines have large eyes. By decorating holly and sardine heads at the entrance or window, it is said to protect the house.

Ehoumaki, a sushi roll eaten on Setsubun day, is one of the pleasures of the day. The origin of Ehoumaki is a custom that began in Osaka during the Edo period. It is a custom to silently eat Ehoumaki while facing the lucky direction (ehou) of the year to wish for good luck. Ehoumaki contains seven ingredients named after the Seven Lucky Gods. Ehoumaki became a nationwide phenomenon from the 1990s to the 2000s. During this time, convenience stores and supermarkets launched campaigns to sell Ehoumaki. It is said that this was a strategy of the distribution industry to attract customers during the Setsubun season.

“Haru yo koi” is a children’s song that depicts a little girl named Mii-chan eagerly awaiting the end of the snowbound winter and longing to play outside. Mii-chan is believed to be the model for this song, the daughter of the lyricist SOUMA_Gyofuu, who was just two years old when the song was released in 1923. Gyofuu, the father, never spoke about it, but according to the mother, he once showed them the “tiny, tiny red straw sandals that were the first gift Mii-chan ever received.”

After attending Waseda University in Tokyo and working as a university lecturer while engaging in literary activities, Gyofuu returned to his hometown of Itoigawa City in Niigata Prefecture in his mid-thirties. From then on, alongside his creative pursuits, he also delved into the study of Ryoukan, a local monk and poet. Ryoukan was known for his love for children, and his famous anecdote of playing with them until sunset. “Haru yo koi” reflects Gyofuu’s unique perspective and empathy towards Ryoukan.

By Yoshio Kohara, CC BY 3.0, Link

Although Itoigawa City, situated along the Sea of Japan, rarely experiences an average temperature below freezing in February, Niigata Prefecture is renowned as one of the world’s leading snowfall areas. The song beautifully captures the emotions of children eagerly anticipating the arrival of spring, even in this snowy region.

The Delicate Season Between Winter and Spring

“Soushunfu” is a song that beautifully expresses the anticipation of spring in Japan, capturing the transitional period from early February (around “Risshun” in the traditional 24 solar terms) through March. Despite being officially spring, this period is characterized by winter’s lingering presence—the wind remains chilly, and even the nightingale, traditionally known as the herald of spring, still refrains from singing. The landscape presents a poetic contradiction: plum blossoms beginning to bloom while snowflakes continue to fall, and fresh reeds sprouting along waterways despite the persistent cold. These elements combine to create a poignant portrayal of the longing for spring’s full arrival.

Though written in classical Japanese style, the lyrics offer a beautiful resonance without overly difficult pronunciation, making it an ideal piece for those studying Japan’s traditional musical heritage.

The Inspiring Origins in Nagano’s Alpine Landscape

The song originated in the early Taisho era (1912-1926) when YOSHIMARU Kazumasa, a respected professor at the Tokyo Music School and member of the “Jinjo Shogakko Shoka” (Elementary School Songs for Common People) compilation committee, visited Azumino in Nagano Prefecture. The melting snow scenery around Hodaka Town profoundly moved YOSHIMARU, inspiring him to compose the poem for “Soushunfu.” For the musical composition, he turned to his colleague NAKADA Akira, a renowned composer who was the father of NAKADA Yoshinao (known for beloved songs such as “Natsu no Omoide,” “Chiisai Aki Mitsuketa,” and “Yuki no Furu Machi wo”).

Azumino: The Landscape That Inspired a Classic

Nestled at the foot of the Northern Japan Alps, Azumino presents a striking natural environment that was particularly impactful for YOSHIMARU. Having been born and raised in the warm climate of Oita Prefecture in Kyushu, the distinct seasonal transitions and alpine scenery of Azumino offered a fresh perspective that deeply influenced his artistic sensibilities.

The region is characterized by remarkable natural beauty—crystal-clear streams fed by alpine snowmelt, vast fields framed by mountain vistas, and a distinctive climate that remains cool even during summer months. This environmental contrast between his native Kyushu and the alpine landscape of Nagano likely heightened YOSHIMARU’s sensitivity to the subtle signs of early spring depicted in the song.

Azumino’s agricultural fame for premium wasabi and soba noodles further connects to its exceptional water quality and climate—elements that form the backdrop for the song’s portrayal of nature’s awakening. Today, visitors to the area can find a monument commemorating the creation of “Soushunfu,” recognizing the song’s cultural significance and connection to this specific landscape.

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Cultural Recognition and Enduring Legacy

“Soushunfu” has earned significant recognition in Japan’s cultural canon, being selected as one of the “100 Best Japanese Songs” by both the Japanese Agency for Cultural Affairs and the Japan PTA National Council. This official recognition highlights the song’s artistic merit and its importance in preserving traditional Japanese sensibilities about nature and seasonal transitions.

The song continues to be taught in schools and performed in various contexts, serving as both a cultural touchstone and a reminder of Japan’s deep poetic tradition of observing and celebrating the subtle changes in nature throughout the year.

In Japan, “New Year’s” is an incredibly significant seasonal celebration. It marks the start of the year and serves as a chance for a fresh mental and physical reset.

To welcome “Toshigamisama,” the deity of the New Year, people adorn their homes with “Kadomatsu” on auspicious days at the year’s end, prepare “Kagamimochi” and ceremonial sake, all in readiness for the welcoming ceremony. From New Year’s Day until the 3rd, known as “Sanganichi,” it was customary for families to peacefully spend time with Toshigamisama. Until the 1970s, shops would uniformly close, allowing homemakers to prepare “Osechi Ryouri,” dishes that could be made in advance, as they wouldn’t need to work during that period. Families would gather around the kotatsu, enjoying mandarins, visiting relatives and friends to exchange New Year’s greetings, while adults would share “Osechi Ryouri,” and sake from noon… that was the norm back then, an era without convenience stores like today.

Relatives living apart would also come together, and children eagerly awaited receiving “Otoshidama,” a New Year’s gift of pocket money. Cousins would gather, engaging in activities like flying kites, spinning tops, or playing “Hanetsuki” – an era without video games.

Traditionally, until the 15th in the new year, or shortened to the 7th in the Kanto region, “Matsunouchi” was observed. It’s a period where Toshigamisama is entertained at home, before gradually returning to the routine as the cold winter persists.

This song beautifully portrays the anticipation of children eagerly awaiting such “New Year’s” celebrations, expressed in simple yet heartfelt words, making it a timeless and cherished song sung across generations. HIGASHI_Kume, the lyricist, is known as the first person in Japan to write lyrics in colloquial language.

Selected as one of the”100 Best Japanese Songs”.

By the way, “Gantan” and “Ganjitsu” are often used interchangeably, but the character “Tan” is said to represent the rising sun depicted by a single horizontal line beneath the sun, signifying the morning of New Year’s Day.