“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.

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.

This song for elementary school students was published in the early Taisho period.

As with all shouka of this era, neither the lyricist nor the composer has been made public and remains unknown to this day.

The place where the lyrics were set has also not been identified.
And surprisingly, it has not been selected for inclusion in the “100 Best Japanese Songs,” making it difficult to understand the literary lyrics,
The lyrics are no longer included in textbooks, perhaps because of the difficulty of understanding the literary lyrics.
However, the original scenery of the summer sea in Japan, which is being forgotten, can be found here.

Passing through a forest of pine trees, perhaps a windbreak, one comes to a stretch of beach.
At a nearby fishing port, nets are drying and the smell of the sea is in the air.
All that can be heard is the charming voices of children and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.
As dusk approaches, more and more boats with fishing lights (fish-collecting lights) are seen offshore.

Nowadays, the summer sea is a beach resort with elaborate performances for young people,
However, until around the 1970s and 1980s, the sea was known as “Kaisui Yokujyou (bathing beach).
And there were only a few huts selling yakisoba (fried noodles), uninspired ramen, curry and rice, and shaved ice.
That was the scenery of the summer sea.

Just like the song, beautiful time passed slowly and unobtrusively.

Even now, you might be able to enjoy such a scene at a beach near a not-so-famous local fishing port.

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.

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.