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.

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

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”.

“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

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.”

Overview of the Children’s Song “Dokoka de Haru ga”

Published in 1923 (Taishou 12), “Dokoka de Haru ga” is a children’s song that gently conveys the breath of spring. Characterized by elements such as the sound of flowing water and the chirping of skylarks (hibari), it subtly evokes the anticipation of spring’s arrival through small, natural changes. Because it was created during the Taishou era—when rigid school songs were gradually being replaced by more accessible children’s songs—“Dokoka de Haru ga” soon found its way into many classrooms and homes, where it has been widely sung ever since.

Taishou Democracy and the Birth of Children’s Songs

The Taishou period, when this song was composed, was marked by an intellectual movement known as **Taishou Democracy**, which emphasized liberalism and respect for individuality throughout society. In the field of education, there was a strong trend toward valuing children’s sensibilities. Magazines like *Akai Tori* (“Red Bird”) became cultural hubs where writers, poets, and composers inspired each other to create new children’s songs and stories. Within this vibrant environment, “Dokoka de Haru ga” emerged as a piece that straightforwardly celebrates the transition of the seasons, ultimately becoming a timeless favorite cherished across generations.

Image from Wikipedia, original image page

Depictions of Nature and the Meaning of “Kochi” (East Wind)

The lyrics are filled with elements that signal the coming of spring—from the trickle of melting snow and the sight of fresh sprouts emerging from the ground, to subtle sounds that stimulate the five senses. Of particular note is the term **“kochi,”** or east wind. Rather than just indicating a wind blowing from the east, the word also draws on the ancient Four Gods (Four Symbols) concept that associates spring with the east. During the postwar period, “kochi” was temporarily replaced with the more understandable term “soyokaze” (gentle breeze), but in recent years, there has been renewed appreciation for the original term’s cultural significance and for the distinctly Japanese sense of the seasons it conveys.

Lyricist MOMOTA Souji and Composer KUSAKAWA Shin

The lyrics of “Dokoka de Haru ga” were written by Momota Souji, a poet and children’s literature author born in Osaka City. Active from the Taishou through the Shouwa eras, he was known for his “people’s poetry” style, leaving behind numerous works that highlight the importance of children’s perspectives. Meanwhile, KUSAKAWA Shin, the composer, hailed from Kamiminochi District in Nagano Prefecture (now around the Nagano City area). Also celebrated for songs like “Yuuyake Koyake” and “Yurikago no Uta,” he excelled at creating simple yet memorable melodies for children. In “Dokoka de Haru ga,” KUSAKAWA distilled the gentle atmosphere of spring into a short, easy-to-sing tune. Their collaboration produced a song in which tender lyrics and melody harmonize beautifully, and it continues to be embraced as a quintessential symbol of spring in Japan.

100 Best Japanese Songs

“Kisha” is a song about the joys of train travel.

Today, “kisha” generally refers to steam locomotives and is distinguished from “densha.”

By 影山 光洋(1907-1981,KAGEYAMA Kouyou) – 『日本国有鉄道百年写真史』P308, Public Domain, Link

The song is about the joy of changing scenery from the train window, but today’s children are so engrossed in games that they do not enjoy the scenery.

By the way, there are many railroad fans in Japan, called “Tetsu Ota,” who enjoy riding the trains, taking pictures, recording them, and so on.

Railroad fans are probably found all over the world, but in the case of Japan, I have the impression that the concentration is very strong. Perhaps it is because, as sung in this song, the scenery changes at a glance. Nearly 70% of the country is mountain forest, which means that only 30% of the land can be traveled by rail. The scenery of the train window changes quickly. Even if you are not a railroad fan, you will feel excited.

ディック – 投稿者自身による著作物, CC 表示-継承 4.0, リンクによる

In this sense, the town of Hirono in Fukushima Prefecture is introduced as the setting of the lyrics because of the “Hironohara” part of the lyrics, but the popular theory seems to be that it is just a large field to sing about.

The 100 Best Japanese Songs.

“Please Recall”

Please recall. A spring day when gentle sunlight spills into a kindergarten classroom, illuminating walls adorned with colorful drawings scratched out by tiny hands holding crayons. The nursery song Omoide no Album (“The Album of Memories”) is a cherished staple of Japanese graduation ceremonies, evoking such warm memories. First introduced in 1961 as a rhythmic play resource for early childhood education, its leisurely waltz tempo perfectly suits little ones singing and dancing in carefree motion. Yet, as its title suggests, it’s imbued with a tender gaze upon children’s growth, and today it’s adored more by adults. For many, merely recalling the melody brings tears to the eyes—I’m one of them. This timeless theme of growth and parting resonates across borders, touching hearts everywhere.

The Teacher’s Gentle Perspective

Please recall. The morning of the graduation ceremony, when children in crisp uniforms, faces flickering with nerves and pride, clasp their teacher’s hand as if to hold the moment tight. Sung from a kindergarten teacher’s viewpoint, this song fondly revisits the events shared with children through the seasons. Lyrics like “We played together so nicely in the warm garden,” “Everyone in straw hats, running around bare,” “Hiking up the acorn hill, la la la,” and “Decorating the fir tree for Merry Christmas” weave seasonal memories with gentle care. To the teacher, these children are not just pupils but companions who laughed and played side by side. That warmth spills from the words, stirring empathy in listeners. The song unfolds with Verse 1 as an introduction, followed by spring in Verse 2, summer in 3, autumn in 4, winter in 5, winter again in 6, and a yearly summary in 7. This structure reflects the Christian faith of lyricist MASHIKO Toshi and the Buddhist beliefs of composer HONDA Tetsumaro, symbolizing the bond through seasons. Feel the teacher’s warm gaze and the deep love beneath it.

A Treasure for Parents and Adults

Please recall. The day your child first stepped through the kindergarten gate, waving tearfully as they looked back. Though it begins with the teacher’s voice, this song nestles deeply into parents’ hearts. At graduation, it prompts a flood of memories—growth, joy, and a pang of sadness—shared by so many. Originally crafted as a playful tune for children, it now echoes through spring graduation seasons, drawing tears from grown-ups. The lyric “Soon you’ll all be first-graders” is the teacher’s words to the child, yet it mirrors a parent’s hope and sentiment, too. The pride of raising a child and the fleeting nature of time are feelings known the world over. Typically, it’s sung up to Verse 5, though Verse 6 or 7 may be chosen to avoid religious tones, hinting at cultural nuance. The Album of Memories holds a mysterious power to comfort adults’ hearts.

Japan’s Heart and Legacy

Please recall. Children holding hands, singing as they step toward tomorrow. Rooted in Japan’s kindergarten traditions, this song carries the universal theme of growth and farewell to the world. Composer HONDA Tetsumaro spent his later years as the head priest of Jyourakuin, a Tendaishuu temple in Chofu, Tokyo, where a monument to this song stands on the grounds. The Buddhist HONDA and Christian MASHIKO Toshi crafted lyrics and music that transcend faith, with Verse 6’s “A cold snowy day, warm in our room” and Verse 7’s “Peach blossoms bloomed so beautifully, soon you’ll all be first-graders” perhaps symbolizing that harmony. Verse 5 often seals the graduation’s emotion, while 6 and 7 leave a quiet resonance. Listen to this song. The simple piano notes blending with children’s voices are like opening an album, reviving memories and love. A hallmark of Japan’s spring, it whispers to hearts everywhere, recalling the beauty of days spent with children.

100 Best Japanese Songs

March: Graduation Season in Japan

March, heralding the arrival of spring, marks the graduation season in Japan. First presented in the year 1884, as the 19th century drew to a close, the song went through a period of obscurity but later experienced a revival. It became an essential classic for graduation ceremonies during the Showa era.

Photo by Ishikawa Ken

Decline in Popularity

The use of the past tense to describe its significance is because it is no longer commonly sung in recent times. The reasons for this decline vary; some attribute it to the archaic language used in the lyrics, which is difficult for children to understand, while others suggest that the content praising teachers is no longer relevant to the times.

By Yousay07& – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Link

Nevertheless, it is truly regrettable to see this beautiful melody fading into obscurity.

Origins and Creation

Originally created for the graduation ceremony of “Ongaku torishirabe kakari” (now part of the Tokyo University of the Arts Faculty of Music), an organization engaged in editing song textbooks and conducting music education research, the song’s lyrics underwent multiple revisions through a collaborative process involving scholars and poets before reaching completion. The composition process, however, remained shrouded in mystery for a long time. It was only in recent years that the original publication from 1871, finally discovered in the United States, bore the composer’s initials, H.N.D, as the sole identification.

By N509FZ – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, Link

Attempts at Modernization

In later years, there was a movement suggesting that if the lyrics were too difficult and the meaning didn’t come across, why not try modernizing them into contemporary language? However, when this idea was actually implemented and presented, voices emerged expressing sentiments like “It doesn’t bring tears if it’s not the original lyrics,” resulting in unfavorable feedback. Upon reflection, it seems that Japanese people, as a whole, may prioritize nuances and emotions over the precise meaning of words. Despite this, Japan actively embraces music from abroad, and many musicians have gained popularity in Japan even before their home countries. This adaptability could be a source of happiness.

Symbolic Meaning

Incidentally, the third verse, featuring “light of fireflies” and “snow that lingers,” draws inspiration from Chinese tales, symbolizing the pursuit of knowledge and success through studying under the illumination of firefly lights and lingering snow.

100 Best Japanese Songs

“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.

100 Best Japanese Songs

Hana: The Melody of Japanese Spring

Many people may remember this song when they think of spring scenery in Japan.

The melody, filled with the joy of the arrival of spring after winter, shines like the surface of the river in the sunlight, and the lyrics, which describe the unique beauty of the cherry blossom scenery, match perfectly, making this song the standard for spring in Japan.

The Historic Sumida River and Its Cherry Blossoms

The Sumida River flows through the east of Tokyo, passing the Tokyo Sky Tree and Asakusa before emptying into Tokyo Bay.
The cherry trees sung as flowers in this song are planted mainly along the riverbanks (botei) of the Sumida River from Azuma Bridge to Sakura Bridge, and are called “Senbonzakura (a thousand cherry trees) on the Sumida River.

sumidatei no hanami / KOBAYASHI,Kiyochika

From Edo-Period Flood Control to Modern Hanami Celebrations

It is said that the cherry trees were originally planted by the 8th Tokugawa shogun, Yoshimune, for flood control, and the purpose was for people to gather and trample on the embankment.

Even today, the area is crowded with people during the cherry blossom season, and instead of boats sung with “oar drops,” pleasure boats designed by Matsumoto Leiji, a manga artist known for “Galaxy Express 999” and “Space Pirate Captain Harlock,” come and go, and people enjoy cherry blossom viewing drinks from morning until late at night.

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Cultural Legacy: From Edo to Present Day

It is a spring event that brings the atmosphere of the Edo period to life.

In summer, the Sumida River Fireworks Festival attracts many people. The “Tamaya” and “Kagiya” are the trade name of a popular fireworks masters in Edo (present-day Tokyo). Kagiya still exists today.

Sumida River Fireworks Festival

The composer of this piece, TAKI Rentarou, went to Germany to study as a music student, but returned to Japan with tuberculosis and died at the young age of 25. His aspiration “for the development of high quality Japanese songs” continues to shine through the ages.