Long, long ago there lived at the foot of the mountain a poor farmer and his aged mother. Their life was poor but peaceful, and happy.
Unfortunately, their cruel governor gave a strict order to immediately put to death all aged people. Those were cruel days, and the custom of abandoning old people to die was not uncommon. The poor farmer loved his aged mother, and the order filled his heart with sorrow. But no one ever thought twice about obeying the order of the cruel governor, so with many deep and hopeless sighs, the youth prepared for what at that time was considered the kindest way of death.
Just at sundown, he took a quantity of unwhitened rice, and he cooked, dried it, and tied it in a square cloth around his neck along with a bottle filled with cool, sweet water. Then he lifted his helpless old mother to his back and started on his painful journey up the mountain. On he went, climbing blindly upward—ever upward towards the top of what is known as Obatsuyama, the mountain of the “abandoning of the aged”.
The mother’s loving heart grew anxious. Her son did not know the mountain’s many paths and his return might be one of danger, so she stretched forth her hand, snapping the twigs (折断树枝) as they passed. She quietly dropped a handful every few steps of the way so that as they climbed, the narrow path behind them was dotted with tiny piles of twigs. At last the top was reached. Gathering fallen leaves, he made a soft cushion (坐垫) and tenderly lifted his old mother onto it. He wrapped her coat more closely and with tearful eyes and an aching heart he said goodbye.
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The trembling mother’s voice was full of unselfish love as she gave her last instruction.
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Once more he shouldered his burden (how light it seemed now) and walked down the path back to their shabby house.
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