Kukai, the revered monk, strides through a bamboo forest. He pauses, sensing a sacred energy. He proclaims, “Here, a temple shall rise! Aizen-in, it shall be called!” This, my friends, is not the Aizen-in we stand before, but the echo of its first incarnation, centuries ago. The Aizen-in in Tokyo’s Shinjuku ward has a history as tangled as the roots of an ancient tree. Some claim its founding by Kukai himself between 810 and 824 AD. Others insist a monk named Jōshō established it in 1611. Jōshō, they say, revitalized Kukai’s forgotten temple. Aizen-in originally stood near present-day Mabushō Zenfuku-ji Temple. Later, Jōshō moved it to Koishikawa. Finally, in 1634, it found its current home. Within Aizen-in’s serene grounds lies a surprise. The grave of Matsuo Bashō, the celebrated haiku master. Yet, it holds not his body, but a lock of his hair. Bashō died in Osaka in 1694, his body laid to rest near Lake Biwa. His devoted disciples, however, wished a part of him to remain with his ancestors. They brought a lock of his hair to Aizen-in. Look around the graveyard. You’ll find a banana tree (bashō), the poet’s namesake. A camellia also stands, representing the wood of his walking stick. Stones inscribed with Bashō’s poignant verses line the path to his memorial. Aizen-in, a quiet sanctuary, holds the whispers of history and the legacy of a haiku master.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to