Come out, come out

On the journey north, Oku no Hosomichi
Obanazawa, ancient Dewa Province,
The last week of May, Genroku 2, 1689

這ひ出でよ . 飼屋が下の . 蟇の声
hai ideyo . kaiya ga shita no . hiki no koe
come out, come out!
beneath the shed
you croaking toad

Finding One’s Voice

It is one month into the journey that would become immortalized in Oku no Hosomichi (a tarvelogue on a journey into Japan’s northern interior and along the coast). Matsuo Basho and his traveling companion Sora arrive in Obanazawa where they rest for ten days. Basho hears a croaking toad beneath a shed. Basho commands that he show his face.

But is he speaking of himself?

“Come out, come out where ever you are.”

“Come out,” the good witch Glenda sang in the Wizard of Oz. And so, the Munchkins came out of hiding to meet Dorothy from Kansas.

Playing hide and seek as a kid, there came the point when someone was caught and now, he or she was “it.” So, the call went out, “Come out, come out wherever you are!” and “ollie, ollie, in come free.”

Before his untimely death, Jim Croce, wrote and sang “I’ve got a name,” which also spoke of the croaking toad.

Basho is my name

Matsuo Basho already had a name, Basho. His pen name was taken from the banana tree that grew outside his cottage in the Fukagawa District of Edo. A banana tree, useless for the most part, since it did not bear fruit, nevertheless resilient for it weathered the storms, and occasionally providing shade.

Basho was, still, just finding his voice.

Better yet

Let us go one better. Three years earlier, when his disciples were gathered at his house, Basho wrote a haiku about a frog, a pond, and the sound of water.

An old pond,
a frog jumps in,
ah, the sound of water
Matsuo Basho, Basho-an, Spring 1686

Everyone and everything,
has a voice,
do you know yours?