英語訳
**[Right Page]**
△ A man by the name of Shinozaki, of Nagakura-chō in Honjo, was fond of fishing. On the night of the second day of the tenth month, he went out to catch loach (*zuzuko*), searching along the waterways here and there. However, catfish (*namazu*) were thrashing about incessantly, and he could not catch a single eel; he obtained only three catfish. Reflecting carefully, he recalled the saying that "when catfish grow restless, there will surely be an earthquake," and, taking heed of this, he stopped his fishing, returned home, spread a straw mat in the garden, brought his household goods outside, and made preparations for a calamity. His wife thought this suspicious behavior and secretly laughed at him. Yet that very night, the earthquake struck, and the dwelling was utterly destroyed — and yet not a single household item was damaged. Furthermore, that same night, a neighbor had likewise gone out fishing, and seeing the catfish in an uproar, had nevertheless not returned home. Having caught little to begin with, he then had all of his household possessions swept away in the collapse — and greatly lamented it afterward. This Shinozaki was quick-witted and thereby escaped one great peril. Whether it be mere popular gossip or common talk, the person who told me this story said: "Taking good heed was a virtue in itself, while letting one's guard down was one's own fault." This is all in accordance with natural principle: when a disturbance is about to occur in the earth, the catfish will first grow restless. It is for this reason that people also call the earthquake (*jishin*) the catfish, and it is said that images of catfish are even drawn on this account. In any case, seeing this clear evidence of what was foretold, I record it here so that it may serve as a lesson for posterity.
**[Left Page]**
△ In Benten-kōji, Nakanogō, Honjo, there lived a greengrocer named Shinsuke. More than half a chō of the neighborhood collapsed in the earthquake, and Shinsuke's house collapsed as well. He managed to pull his three children out alive, but his wife, a woman named Yasu, was trapped beneath a fallen beam and could not move freely. Like one gone mad, he was flinging aside planks, timbers, earth, and roof tiles in an effort to rescue her, when a fire broke out at a firewood merchant's shop in the same neighborhood. The flames grew steadily fiercer, and sparks fell like rain. His wife Yasu said to him: "If time passes while you try to rescue me, you yourself and our three children will all be in danger. I am prepared for what must come. But I find it deeply distressing to die with the fire in sight." Shinsuke, understanding her, placed an old *hanten* jacket over her head, and with tears streaming down his face, said to her: "Though it be an act of heaven, it is most grievous to let you die so untimely a death. I will raise our three children well, so do not worry about them in the least. From here on, rely upon Lord Makino of Warikesui. Recite the sutras and attain Buddhahood in peace." With these words, he left her and withdrew. That night, at the hour of the ninth bell (*kokonotsu*, approximately midnight), someone came to the Makino residence seeking them out. Her hair had completely burned away; from her head to half her body she was blackened with soot and scorched raw — her appearance was truly that of a ghost. When Shinsuke questioned her in detail, his wife Yasu said: "The fire crept closer and closer, and burned away the beam up to its midpoint, so the thing pressing down on me became extremely light. I managed, just barely, to escape through the flames." These were people whose fate had not yet run its course, and it is truly a matter for rejoicing. In all, amid the upheaval of this disaster, there are numerous extraordinary accounts — of people escaping in just such a manner, or of people who fell into wells and thereby escaped the fires, and many other curious tales besides. However, as matters are so numerous, I shall here set forth only one or two of them.