27 arrived in Kyoto on July twentieth, making it a thirteen day solo jour-ney. Taking lodgings near Kyoto Station, Enryō wrote of his first impressions. ing, and the bustle of people coming and going was dizzying. It really is the most city-like of cities. I took an evening stroll through the streets, and their warp and woof was straight like a found their words and manners refined and beautiful. Their be-havior was graceful and elegant. I realized that this truly was the cultural inheritance of an imperial capital—a capital that lasted for hundreds of years. As we can see, Enryō experienced culture shock when first arriving in Kyoto. After having settled in to some degree, he wrote the fol-lowing poem. old capital, and the tears of sorrow are flowing so fast they soon eye that it brings on melancholy, and the magnificent sight of the city streets hurts my heart. The inn’s rooms are all filled with travelers from the provinces, and there is not one from my home. I am alone all day, with no one coming to comfort me. I sit in the shade of the bamboo, with only my books as friends. Here we can see that Enryō was feeling homesick. The sound of people and goods being transported was deafen-whetstone or an arrow. Observing the customs of the people, I Already thirty days have passed since I traveled to stay in the wet my handkerchief. The beautiful scenery is so pleasing to the
元のページ ../index.html#33