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.

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.

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.

Amefuri Otsukisan — What Makes Japan’s Rainy Season So Special?

“Amefuri Otsukisan” perfectly captures the essence of Japan’s unique rainy season called “Tsuyu” (梅雨) or “Baiu” (梅雨)—both readings refer to the same phenomenon that occurs from June to early July. This is Japan’s wettest time of year, marking the beginning of the hot and humid summer that defines the country’s climate. Unlike sudden downpours in other regions, Tsuyu brings prolonged, gentle rains that seem to envelope the entire landscape in a misty, dreamlike atmosphere.

The song’s haunting melody and evocative imagery transport listeners directly into this season of perpetual drizzle, where clouds hide the moon and create an almost mystical setting. It’s during this time that Japan transforms—hydrangeas bloom in vibrant purples and blues, rice paddies shimmer with fresh water, and the air itself seems to carry stories of old.

tsuyu? baiu?

Why Does She Journey Alone on This Rainy Night?

The song tells the mysterious tale of a woman traveling alone to her wedding on a cloudy night when the moon remains hidden behind thick clouds. But why does she make this important journey by herself? The lyrics don’t reveal the full story, leaving listeners to imagine the circumstances. Yet rather than depicting this as a tragic tale, the beautiful melody suggests a story of quiet determination and acceptance.

This solitary journey speaks to something deeper about human resilience. The woman in the song isn’t portrayed as a victim of circumstance, but rather as someone who has found her own strength within the constraints of her time. The gentle, flowing melody mirrors the steady rain—persistent, inevitable, yet somehow comforting in its constancy.

※Source:worldbank.org (CC BY 4.0)

How Did Marriage Work in Old Japan?

To understand this song’s deeper meaning, we need to look at historical context. In old Japan, it was common for women to marry into families where they’d never met their future husbands. With about 70% of the country covered in forests and limited agricultural land, it wasn’t unusual for brides to travel over mountains to neighboring villages for arranged marriages.

The Japanese character for “bride” (嫁) beautifully illustrates this reality—it combines the characters for “woman” (女) and “house” (家), literally meaning “woman of the house.” Marriage was primarily seen as a union between households rather than individuals. In an agricultural society, the emphasis was on securing labor and ensuring the continuation of family lines through children. While this might seem harsh by today’s standards, it was the foundation upon which most families were built.

How Did Two Songs Become One Masterpiece?

Here’s a fascinating detail about this beloved song: it wasn’t originally written as a single piece! “Amefuri Otsukisan” began as two separate songs. The first, with its memorable opening about rain and the moon, was so well-received that a sequel called “Kumo no Kage” (Shadow of the Clouds) was created to continue the story.

When it came time to record the songs, composer NAKAYAMA Shimpei made the brilliant suggestion to combine both pieces into one cohesive work. This creative decision transformed two good songs into one masterpiece that flows seamlessly from the woman’s departure into the rainy night through to her journey’s end. The combined version creates a more complete narrative arc while maintaining the mysterious, contemplative mood that makes the song so captivating.

Today, this combined version continues to be cherished and has earned its place among the “100 Best Japanese Songs.” It stands as a testament to how sometimes the most profound stories emerge not from dramatic tragedy, but from quiet moments of human strength and the gentle persistence of rain on a summer night.

“Palm fruit” is also called “Yashi no mi” in Japan.

YANAGITA Kunio, a folklorist who spent one summer in the Meiji Era at Cape Irago in Tahara, Aichi Prefecture, told his literary friend about an episode in which he found a “palm fruit” washed ashore while taking a walk on the beach.

It was a time when knowledge of foreign countries was scarce. And the Japanese, surrounded by the sea, are thought to have long felt a romantic sense of “what kind of world there is outside the sea. This is probably the reason why people still refer to foreign countries as “kaigai,” which means “outside the sea. SHIMAZAKI Touson, a well-known literary giant of the Meiji period, was inspired to write these lyrics by a palm tree that had drifted ashore on a journey across the sea. He said to YANAGITA, “Give me the story. Don’t tell anyone.

The beautiful poem and melody, written in “Japanese for literature,” which is not used today, has been selected as one of the “100 Best Japanese Songs.

Many people take the one-hour ferry from Cape Irago to Ise-Shima to visit the Ise Jingu Shrine.

Photo by (c)Tomo.Yun

Summer Memories — The Birth of a Musical Treasure in Post-War Japan

Picture Japan in 1949, just four years after World War II had ended. The country was rebuilding, and people were searching for ways to bring families together again. It was during this time that NHK, Japan’s national broadcasting corporation, launched an innovative program called “Radio Kayou” (Radio Songs). This wasn’t just another music program – it was born from a deep desire to heal and unite. Perhaps reflecting on how wartime propaganda songs like “Kokumin Kayou” had once stirred nationalistic fervor, NHK now wanted to create something entirely different: gentle melodies that families could gather around their radios to sing together in the comfort of their homes.

From this thoughtful initiative emerged “Natsu no Omoide” (Summer Memories), a song that would capture the hearts of generations of Japanese people. Today, this beautiful piece remains one of the most cherished examples of Douyo-Shouka – traditional Japanese songs that blend folk melodies with poetic lyrics. What makes this song so enduringly popular isn’t just its haunting melody, but its ability to paint vivid pictures of Japan’s pristine natural beauty through music and words.

A Lyrical Journey Through Japan’s Hidden Paradise

The song takes us on a poetic journey to Oze, a breathtaking highland marshland that feels like stepping into a fairy tale. This remarkable wetland ecosystem stretches majestically across three prefectures – Fukushima, Niigata, and Gunma – and holds the prestigious designation of being both a national park and one of Japan’s 100 most scenic spots. When you imagine Japan’s natural wonders, you might think of Mount Fuji or cherry blossoms, but Oze represents something equally magical yet more intimate.

The area is renowned for its incredibly strict environmental conservation policies, which have kept this wilderness virtually untouched for decades. Visitors must follow wooden boardwalks that wind through the marshland, ensuring that every footstep respects the delicate ecosystem. This careful preservation means that when you visit Oze today, you’re experiencing the same pristine beauty that inspired the song’s creation over 70 years ago. The commitment to protecting this natural sanctuary reflects the Japanese philosophy of living in harmony with nature – a theme that resonates deeply throughout the song.

Hatomachi Touge (Pass)　By Σ64 – Own work, CC BY 3.0, Link

The Story Behind the Words: A Wartime Memory Transformed

The woman who penned these evocative lyrics, EMA Shouko, has a fascinating story that adds layers of meaning to the song. In 1944, as World War II was reaching its devastating climax, she was evacuated to the Oze region for safety. Instead of dwelling on the hardships of wartime displacement, EMA found herself captivated by the area’s otherworldly beauty. Her lyrics were born not from a casual tourist visit, but from the deep, contemplative experience of someone who had time to truly observe and absorb the subtle rhythms of this highland paradise.

This personal connection explains why the song feels so authentic and emotionally resonant. EMA wasn’t just describing a pretty landscape – she was sharing a profound experience that had sustained her spirit during one of the darkest periods in modern Japanese history. The song became her love letter to a place that had offered solace and wonder when the world seemed broken. This backstory transforms “Natsu no Omoide” from a simple nature song into something much more profound: a testament to the healing power of natural beauty and the human capacity to find hope in the midst of despair.

Mt.Shibutsu and Ozegahara, Katashina Vill.,By Σ64 – Own work, CC BY 3.0, Link

The Beautiful Mystery of Seasonal Poetry

Here’s where the song becomes wonderfully intriguing: the star of “Natsu no Omoide” is the Mizubasho (Asian skunk cabbage), a plant whose large white petals create stunning displays across Oze’s wetlands. However, these magnificent flowers actually bloom from late May through June, right after the snow melts – not during the height of summer that the song’s title suggests. When curious fans pointed out this apparent contradiction to EMA Shouko, her response was both poetic and revealing: “I call the wonderful season of Mizubasho in Oze ‘summer’.”

This beautiful explanation opens up a window into the Japanese appreciation for seasonal subtlety. In traditional Japanese culture, seasons aren’t rigid calendar categories but fluid, emotional experiences. According to the classical seasonal calendar used in poetry and literature, Mizubasho is indeed considered a summer season word, reflecting an ancient understanding that nature’s rhythms don’t always match our modern calendar divisions. Even beyond the famous Mizubasho season, Oze continues to enchant visitors throughout the year with its ever-changing tapestry of colors: the fluffy white Watasuge (cotton grass) dancing in summer breezes, the bright yellow Nikkoukisuge lilies, and the spectacular Kusamomiji – the autumn transformation when grasses turn brilliant shades of red and gold, creating their own version of fall foliage.

100 Best Japanese Songs.

Why Does This Song Warm Our Hearts So Gently?

There’s something almost magical about “Mikan no Hana Saku Oka” (The Hill Where Orange Blossoms Bloom). The song is woven with a nostalgic melody and lyrics that trace memories of childhood days, but it’s not melancholic at all. Rather, it’s a melody that gently embraces the heart, offering warm comfort to all who listen.

Even if you’ve never witnessed such a scene, the image of fragrant orange blossoms blooming on hillsides comes alive in your heart. This goes beyond mere description of nature—it awakens feelings for the “homeland” that everyone carries deep within their soul. The true charm of this song lies in how it evokes nostalgia while gently encouraging and comforting its listeners.

Mikan no hana (Orange flower)

What Is the “Mother’s Love” Hidden in This Song?

The greatest theme of this song is undoubtedly the loving “mother’s presence” from childhood days. What’s embedded in the lyrics is a deep longing for the beautiful scenery once viewed together with mother. Orange blossoms gazed upon while holding mother’s hand as a child, hill paths walked together, peaceful afternoon moments shared—such loving memories breathe within this song.

The reality of “now viewing alone” means more than just the passage of time. It tells a story of growth and separation, representing life’s journey while carrying precious memories of a beloved mother in one’s heart. Looking back at the scenery from memories with mother, now as an adult viewing it alone—this sentiment is precisely why this song resonates so deeply in many people’s hearts.

A Miracle Born in Just 30 Minutes

This heartwarming masterpiece was born in 1946, just one year after the war’s end. During an era when Japan was seeking new hope, this song was created alongside innovative technology—for a groundbreaking live radio broadcast connecting Tokyo and Ito City in Shizuoka Prefecture.

What’s remarkable is that this eternal masterpiece was completed in an unbelievably short time. Lyricist KATO Shogo, born in a fishing port town in Shizuoka Prefecture, deeply understood coastal landscapes and maternal love. Within just 30 minutes on the day before the broadcast, he completed lyrics filled with gratitude to mothers and love for hometown. Each carefully chosen word, despite being written so quickly, possessed the power to touch listeners’ heartstrings.

Why It’s Still Loved After 80 Years

Composer KAINUMA Minoru was moved by KATO’s lyrics while traveling to Ito by train, inspired by the actual orange groves visible from his window to complete the melody. The lyrics singing of memories with mother harmonized beautifully with the gentle melody that embraces the heart, creating a masterpiece that continues to be loved by many people nearly 80 years later.

The reason this song is loved across generations is because it awakens the gratitude everyone holds for their mother and the longing for pure childhood love. In today’s busy life, when people hear this song, they remember their own memories with mother and the preciousness of ordinary days spent together. This isn’t sadness, but warm gratitude for loving memories.

Sunrise from Ito, Shizuoka Prefecture　By Shift, CC BY-SA 3.0, Link

Maternal Love That Will Be Sung Forever

“Mikan no Hana Saku Oka” received the honor of being selected as one of Japan’s “100 Best Japanese Songs,” but its true value doesn’t lie in awards. The real meaning of this song is that it continues to sing about how maternal love supports the human heart and enriches life.

Even as times change and lifestyles evolve, maternal love and the pure heart of childhood remain unchanged. This song has been carefully passed down to this day, entrusting such universal forms of love to its beautiful melody. The hill where orange blossoms bloom will continue to gently illuminate many people’s hearts as a spiritual hometown where memories with mother bloom eternally.

Let’s look for the red dragonfly in the evening sky

“Akatombo” is a beautiful song that sings of the heart filled with nostalgia as one watches the red dragonflies that fly from early to mid-autumn, as if stained by the setting sun.

The image of the dragonflies glowing in the evening light has long been a symbol of Japan’s autumn, giving listeners a bittersweet reminder of childhood days and hometown landscapes.

A melody born from a poet’s window

The lyricist, MIKI Rofuu, is said to have been inspired by seeing a red dragonfly flying outside his window while teaching literature at the Hakodate Trappist Monastery.

Surrounded by the quiet of nature and the solemn atmosphere of the monastery, the sudden appearance of the delicate insect must have left a vivid impression, one that later took shape in his poignant lyrics.

Memories of a poor mountain village

The kanji for “akatombo” is written as follows.

About 100 years ago, in the early Showa period (early 20th century), mountain villages in Japan were very poor.

MIKI Rofuu’s mother ran away from home when he was five years old, and he was raised by a nanny girl. However, that “neeya” also married off at the age of 15.

In a time when food was scarce, this may have been part of the so-called “kuchiberashi,” a way of trying not to feed anyone other than the work force of the farm.

Loneliness entrusted to the song

Later, when the author left for the city, he no longer received letters from his hometown. How must Rofuu have felt when he lost his family?

Such loneliness was entrusted to “Akatombo,” a song widely loved as a representative Japanese song. However, although sentimental, this loneliness does not mean unhappiness. That is why it is widely sympathized with and has remained in the present age.

Still loved all over Japan

“Akatombo” won first place in the “Songs of Japan and Hometowns You Choose” conducted by the NHK National Executive Committee in a nationwide survey.

Monuments to “Akatombo” can be found all over Japan, which shows the popularity of the song.
The monument shown in the map below is one of them.

100 Best Japanese Songs

▼Jean=pierre rampal “Aka Tombo” flute

Moon-viewing is incomplete without offering rice dumplings. / By katorisi – Own work, CC BY 3.0, Link

The Custom of Admiring the Harvest Moon

In Japan, the 15th day of the 8th month of the lunar calendar (around late September today) is called Jyuugoya or Chuushuu no Meigetsu, and it is celebrated as the night when the moon is at its most beautiful of the year. On this evening, people place offerings of pampas grass, rice dumplings, and seasonal harvests, and enjoy gazing at the moon in the crisp autumn air. The sight of families and friends looking up at the bright moon, sometimes with a cup of sake in hand, conveys a uniquely Japanese autumn atmosphere.

Haiku and the Humor of the Full Moon

KOBAYASHI Issa, one of the representative haiku poets of the Edo period, composed the following verse:

Meigetsu wo totte kurero to naku ko kana
名月を取ってくれろと泣く子かな
(A child carried on his back points to the full moon and cries, “Please get it for me.”)

Yoshi Canopus – 自ら撮影, CC 表示-継承 3.0, リンクによる

This scene, humorous in tone yet full of seasonal elegance, is a well-known haiku even today. It reminds us of the cultural richness of the Meigetsu (harvest moon).

The Poetic Eye of NOGUCHI Ujyou

The lyrics of Jyuugoya Otsukisan were written by NOGUCHI Ujyou, a renowned poet of children’s songs. He is also the author of lyrics for masterpieces such as “Nanatsu no Ko” and “Akai Kutsu”. NOGUCHI’s strength lay in his ability to depict the world through the innocent eyes of children, while subtly weaving in the realities of the society of his time. In this song, too, beneath the simple words of a child addressing the moon lies a heartfelt longing for the mother he misses.

Hidden Social Realities of the Taishou Period

At first glance, the lyrics of Jyuugoya Otsukisan may sound like an innocent child’s monologue to the moon. Yet, in reality, they reflect the social struggles of the Taishou era. After experiencing an economic boom during World War I, Japan plunged into a postwar recession. Many factory workers in the cities lost their jobs and were forced to return to the countryside, placing heavy economic burdens on farming households.

Family Separation and the Cry of a Child’s Heart

Because of this hardship, many rural households had to let go of their housekeepers (baaya), and poverty forced them to send their younger daughters away for work. In this context, the child singing longs for his absent mother, perhaps never to see her again, entrusting his sorrow to the moon. Simple though the lyrics may be, they are imbued with the deep sadness of family separation in that era.

The Power of MOTOORI Nagayo’s Melody

The melody was composed by MOTOORI Nagayo. His music, at once beautiful and tinged with melancholy, brought out the sorrow of the child’s heart and the shadow of society hidden behind the lyrics. The harmony of the moon’s beauty with this sadness made the song unforgettable, leaving a deep impression on Japanese hearts.

Beautiful Memories in Ancient Words

“Hamabe no uta” is a song that captures the melancholic mood of walking aimlessly along the shoreline while reminiscing about days gone by. One of the song’s greatest charms lies in the beauty of its lyrics, written in classical Japanese literary style. However, because it’s composed in archaic language, even modern Japanese speakers find it challenging to fully grasp the true meaning of its words. It has the same appeal as deciphering classical literature, and this linguistic barrier paradoxically adds to the song’s profound allure.
The lyrics were penned by HAYASHI Kokei, a Japanese literature scholar born in 1875. Interestingly, he had quite an unconventional background—he entered the Buddhist priesthood at a young age. However, driven by his passion for learning, he left the temple to pursue an academic career, becoming a teacher of Japanese and Chinese literature. Then, after turning 30, he made an unusual career change by enrolling in a music school, which was quite rare for someone of his age in those days.

A Beautiful Score Adorned by TAKEHISA Yumeji

When the musical score was published in 1918, its cover was graced by artwork from Takehisa Yumeji, renowned for his exquisite paintings of beautiful women. Yumeji’s elegant and lyrical artistic style harmonized perfectly with the melancholic atmosphere of “Hamabe no uta,” transforming the sheet music itself into a work of art. Indeed, this cover continues to be beloved by many to this day and is considered one of the iconic works of the Taisho Romantic movement.
The music itself is extraordinarily beautiful and lyrical, with a melodic line that possesses the delicacy to touch the heartstrings of the Japanese people. The melody, reminiscent of ocean waves and sea breezes, evokes nostalgic memories in listeners’ hearts, which explains why it continues to be cherished across generations.

The Mystery of the Lost Third Verse and Its Cinematic Legacy

“Hamabe no uta” originally consisted of three verses, according to historical accounts. However, the third verse that we might know today differs from what Kokei originally wrote. Remarkably, someone had altered the latter half of the lyrics without permission. When Kokei discovered this unauthorized change, he was reportedly furious, exclaiming, “This makes no sense!” Unfortunately, he couldn’t recall his original lyrics, and as a result, only the first and second verses are sung today. This episode about the phantom third verse remains one of the enduring mysteries surrounding the song.

Twenty-Four Eyes (1954) poster. By The poster art can or could be obtained from the distributor. Fair use, via Wikimedia Commons

Later, “Hamabe no uta” was effectively featured in the acclaimed film “Twenty-Four Eyes” (1954). This movie portrayed the tragedy of war through the bond between a new female teacher assigned to an impoverished village in the Setonaikai region and her students, depicting both the tragedy of conflict and the resilience of human spirit. When the song plays in the film, it resonates with the characters’ emotions and leaves a profound impact on audiences. In this way, the song transcended its individual appeal to gain greater cultural significance by connecting with other artistic works.