Mountain Moon Record

author: Atsushi Nakajima

Li Zheng of Longxi, a man of great learning and talent, was listed on the Tiger Roll at a young age at the end of the Tianbao era, and was then appointed as the Commandant of Jiangnan. However, his nature was obstinate and he had a very high opinion of himself. He did not consider it acceptable to serve as a lowly official. Before long, after resigning from his post, he returned to his hometown in the mountains, secluded himself, and devoted himself solely to writing poetry. He preferred to leave a name as a poet for a hundred years after his death than to spend a long time as a subordinate, kneeling before vulgar high officials. However, his literary fame did not easily rise, and his life became more difficult day by day. Li Zheng gradually became driven by impatience. Around this time, his appearance also became gaunt, with flesh falling away and bones protruding, and only his eyes shone restlessly. The beauty of the plump-cheeked young man from the time he passed the Jinshi examination was nowhere to be found. After several years, unable to bear poverty, he finally yielded to the need to provide for his wife and children, and went east again to take a position as a local government official. On the one hand, this was also because he had become half-desperate about his poetic career. His former colleagues had already advanced to much higher positions, and the fact that he had to receive orders from those he had once considered dullards and unworthy of consideration deeply wounded the self-esteem of Li Zheng, the former brilliant talent. He was discontented and unhappy, and his rebellious nature became increasingly difficult to suppress. A year later, while on a business trip, when he stayed overnight by the Ru River, he finally went insane. One night, in the middle of the night, he suddenly changed his expression, got out of bed, and while shouting something incomprehensible, jumped down and ran off into the darkness. He never returned. Despite searching the nearby mountains and fields, there was no clue. No one knew what happened to Li Zheng after that.

The following year, a Surveillance Censor named Yuan of Chen Commandery, under imperial decree, was on a mission to Lingnan and stayed overnight in Shangyu. As he was about to depart early the next morning, while it was still dark, the station master told him that because man-eating tigers appeared on the road ahead, travelers could not pass except in broad daylight. Since it was still early in the morning, it would be better to wait a little longer. Yuan, however, trusting in the large number of his attendants, dismissed the station master's words and set off. As he was passing through a grassy area in the forest relying on the light of the waning moon, a ferocious tiger leaped out of the bushes. The tiger seemed about to pounce on Yuan, but suddenly turned around and hid back in the bushes. From the bushes, a human voice was heard repeatedly muttering, "That was a close call." Yuan recognized the voice. Even amidst his surprise and fear, he suddenly realized and shouted, "Is that voice not my friend, Li Zheng?" Yuan had passed the Jinshi examination in the same year as Li Zheng, and for Li Zheng, who had few friends, he was his closest friend. This was probably because Yuan's gentle nature did not clash with Li Zheng's stern disposition.

There was no reply from the bushes for a while. Only faint sounds that seemed like suppressed weeping were occasionally heard. After a while, a low voice replied, "Indeed, I am Li Zheng of Longxi."

Yuan forgot his fear, got off his horse, approached the bushes, and affectionately greeted him after their long separation. Then he asked why he didn’t come out of the bushes. Li Zheng’s voice replied, saying that he was now in the form of a different species. How could he shamelessly expose his wretched appearance before his old friend? Moreover, if he were to show his face, he would surely cause fear and disgust in Yuan. However, now, having unexpectedly encountered his old friend, he was so nostalgic that he had even forgotten his shame. Would Yuan, if only for a while, not mind his hideous current appearance, and talk to him, who was once his friend Li Zheng?

Looking back on it later, it was strange, but at that time, Yuan simply accepted this supernatural phenomenon and did not doubt it at all. He ordered his subordinates to halt the procession, and he stood by the bushes and conversed with the unseen voice. They spoke of the rumors of the capital, the news of old friends, Yuan’s current position, and Li Zheng’s congratulations. After these things were spoken in the same informal tone as when they were close friends in their youth, Yuan asked how Li Zheng had come to his current state. The voice from the grass spoke as follows.

About a year ago, when I was traveling and stayed overnight by the Ru River, I woke up after a nap and suddenly heard someone calling my name outside. Responding to the voice, I went outside, and the voice repeatedly beckoned me from the darkness. Without realizing it, I started running after the voice. As I ran in a daze, I somehow entered the mountains and forests, and before I knew it, I was running, grabbing the ground with both hands. I felt like my body was filled with strength, and I lightly leapt over rocks. When I noticed, I seemed to have hair growing on my hands and elbows. When I looked at my reflection in the stream after it had become a little brighter, I was already a tiger. At first, I didn’t believe my eyes. Then, I thought it must be a dream. I had had dreams before where I knew I was dreaming. When I finally had to realize that it was not a dream, I was dumbfounded. And then I was afraid. I was deeply afraid, thinking that absolutely anything could happen. But why did this happen? I don’t know. We don't know anything at all. It is our fate as living beings to accept what is imposed on us without knowing the reason and to live without understanding why. I immediately thought of death. But then, as soon as I saw a rabbit running in front of me, the human in me instantly disappeared. When the human in me woke up again, my mouth was covered in rabbit blood, and rabbit fur was scattered around me. This was my first experience as a tiger. Since then, I cannot bear to speak of the things I have continued to do. However, for a few hours each day, the human mind returns. At those times, I can speak human language, engage in complex thought, and even recite passages from the classics, just as I used to. It is when I see the aftermath of my brutal acts as a tiger with that human mind, and reflect on my fate, that I feel the most miserable, frightened, and angry. But those few hours of being human are gradually becoming shorter with each passing day. Until now, I had been wondering how I had turned into a tiger, but recently I suddenly realized I had started thinking about how I had been a human before. This is frightening. If this continues, the human mind in me will be completely buried and extinguished by the habits of a beast. Just like the foundations of an old palace gradually being buried in the earth and sand. If that happens, I will eventually forget my past and roam around as a tiger, and even if I meet you like today, I will not recognize you as my old friend and would tear you apart and eat you without feeling any remorse. Whether beast or human, it must have originally been something else. At first, we remember it, but gradually we forget it, and we are convinced that we have been in our current form from the beginning, aren’t we? No, it doesn’t matter. If the human mind in me completely disappears, perhaps I will be happier. But the human in me feels this to be the most terrifying thing. Oh, how terribly, sadly, and poignantly I feel! That I will lose the memory of being human. No one understands this feeling. No one understands it except for someone who is in the same situation as I am. By the way, yes. Before I completely cease to be human, there is one thing I would like to ask of you.

Yuan and his party were holding their breath, listening intently to the strange tale told by the voice in the bushes. The voice continued to speak.

It is nothing more than this. I originally intended to make a name for myself as a poet. Yet, before my work could be accomplished, I have reached this fate. I have written hundreds of poems, but of course, they have not yet been published. The location of my unpublished works will probably be unknown by now. However, among them, there are a few dozen that I can still recite. I would like you to write them down and pass them on for my sake. It is not that I want to appear as a great poet because of this. I do not know if my work is good or bad, but I cannot die in peace without passing on even a part of what I was obsessed with throughout my life, even if it led to bankruptcy and madness.

Yuan ordered his subordinates to take up their brushes and write down what the voice in the bushes was reciting. Li Zheng's voice resonated loudly from the bushes. There were about thirty poems, both long and short, all with elegant style and extraordinary ideas, immediately revealing the author's exceptional talent. However, while marveling, Yuan vaguely felt the following: indeed, the author's talent was undoubtedly in the first rank. However, in their current state, there was something (at a very subtle point) lacking for them to be considered first-rate works.

After reciting his old poems, Li Zheng’s voice suddenly changed its tone and spoke as if mocking himself.

It’s embarrassing, but even now, in this wretched state, I sometimes dream of my collection of poems being placed on the desks of the elegant people of Chang’an. In a dream I have while lying in a cave. Laugh at me. A pitiful man who failed to become a poet and became a tiger. (Yuan listened sadly, remembering Li Zheng’s self-deprecating habit from his youth.) That’s right. Just for laughs, let me express my current feelings in an impromptu poem. As a sign that the former Li Zheng still lives within this tiger.

Yuan ordered his subordinate to write it down as well. The poem said:

I became a strange creature due to a sudden madness, disasters and calamities follow each other without escape.

Today, who dares to oppose my claws and fangs? Back then, my fame and talents rose with yours.

I am a beast beneath the thatch, while you are already riding the clouds with power and influence.

Tonight, facing the bright moon in the mountains and streams, I do not growl, only shed tears.

At that time, the waning moon was shining coldly, the white dew was thick on the ground, and the cool breeze blowing through the trees was already heralding the approach of dawn. The people had already forgotten the strangeness of the situation and silently lamented the ill-fatedness of the poet. Li Zheng’s voice continued again.

I said earlier that I didn’t know why I was in this situation, but if I think about it, there are things that I can think of. When I was human, I tried to avoid associating with people. People called me arrogant and haughty. In fact, I was almost ashamed, but they didn't know it. Of course, I won't say that I, who was once called a genius of the region, had no self-esteem. But it was what could be called a cowardly self-esteem. While I wanted to make a name for myself through poetry, I did not seek out a teacher or try to improve myself by associating with fellow poets. Nor, did I consider it acceptable to mingle with the common people. Both were caused by my cowardly self-esteem and haughty sense of shame. Because I was afraid of not being a jewel, I dared not diligently polish myself, and because I half-believed that I should be a jewel, I was unable to mingle with the mediocre. I gradually distanced myself from the world and grew further apart from people, and as a result, I increasingly fed and fattened the cowardly self-esteem within me through resentment and anger. It is said that every human is a beast tamer, and that the beast is each person’s nature. In my case, this arrogant sense of shame was the beast. It was the tiger. It ruined me, caused my wife and children suffering, hurt my friends, and ultimately changed my external form into something fitting for my internal self. Looking back now, I realize that I have completely wasted my little talent. Life is too long to do nothing, but too short to accomplish something, and while I spouted such clichéd aphorisms, the truth is that my cowardice of perhaps exposing my lack of talent, along with my laziness that shied away from hard work, were all I was. There are many who have become great poets because they single-mindedly honed their talents, even though their talents were far more meager than mine. Now that I have become a tiger, I have finally realized this. When I think about it, I still feel a burning regret. I can no longer live as a human. Even if I were to compose a great poem in my mind now, how could I publish it? Moreover, my mind is becoming more tiger-like each day. What should I do? What about my wasted past? I can’t bear it. At times like these, I climb to the top of the rock on the mountain over there and roar into the empty valley. I want someone to understand this burning sorrow. Last night, I roared at the moon over there. Hoping that someone would understand my suffering. But the beasts only hear my voice, are afraid, and prostrate themselves. The mountains, trees, moon, and dew all think that a tiger is simply roaring and raging madly. Even if I jump into the sky or fall to the ground in lament, no one understands my feelings. Just like when I was human, no one understood my easily hurt inner self. The fact that my fur is wet is not just from the night dew.

Gradually, the darkness around them began to lighten. From somewhere through the trees, the mournful sound of the dawn horn began to resonate.

It is time to say goodbye. The time is approaching when I must become drunk (the time when I must return to being a tiger), said Li Zheng’s voice. But, before we part, there is one more request. It is about my wife and children. They are still in my hometown. Of course, they should not know of my fate. When you return from the south, could you please tell them that I have already died? Please never reveal today’s events. It is a presumptuous request, but if you could take pity on their isolation and weakness and make sure that they do not go hungry and cold, there would be no greater kindness for me.

After he finished speaking, a wail was heard from the bushes. Yuan also shed tears and happily replied that he would gladly fulfill Li Zheng's wishes. However, Li Zheng’s voice suddenly returned to its earlier self-deprecating tone and said.

Actually, if I were human, I should have asked for this favor first. Because I am a man who cares more about his meager poetic career than about his wife and children who are about to go hungry and cold, I am descending to this beastly form.

And, he added that Yuan should not pass this way on his return from Lingnan, as he might be drunk at that time and attack his old friend without recognizing him. Also, he asked Yuan to climb the hill about a hundred paces ahead after they part and look back this way. He would show him his current form again. Not to boast of his courage, but to show him his hideous appearance, so that he would not have the urge to pass this way again and meet him.

Yuan said farewell to the bushes with a sincere expression and mounted his horse. From the bushes, a sound of unbearable weeping was heard again. Yuan, also looking back at the bushes several times, departed in tears.

When the party reached the top of the hill, they looked back at the grassy area in the forest as they had been told. Suddenly, they saw a tiger leap out of the bushes onto the path. The tiger, after looking up at the moon that had already lost its white light, roared two or three times before jumping back into the bushes and disappearing from sight again.

Source text: "Li Ling and Mountain Moon Record", Shinchosha Bunko, Shinchosha

Published September 20, 1969 (Showa 44)

Input: Daiki Hiramatsu

Proofreading: Megumi Hayashi

Released November 12, 1998

Revised November 2, 2010

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This file was created by Aozora Bunko, an internet library (http://www.aozora.gr.jp/). The input, proofreading, and production were done by volunteers.

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