[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":29},["ShallowReactive",2],{"shinhanga-met-54135":3,"next-shinhanga-met-54135":24},{"id":4,"original_title":5,"artist":6,"date_created":7,"image_url":8,"neutral_story":9,"neutral_story_en":10,"affiliate_zone":11,"seo":12,"json_ld":18},"met-54135","Lacquer Inrō with Waterbirds and Ox-shaped Netsuke in a Box\r\nFrom the Spring Rain Collection (Harusame shū), vol. 3","Totoya Hokkei","probably 1817","\u002Fimages\u002Fshinhanga\u002Fmet-54135.webp","\u003Cp>紙上的紅色已經有些退了。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>可那只香袋，仍像剛從誰的袖中滑落。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>夜很靜。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>榻榻米吸滿潮氣，木窗外傳來遠遠的風聲，像有人正慢慢拉開障子。炭火快熄了，只剩一點暗紅，在房內呼吸。那個女人早已睡去，或者，她其實從未回來。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>香袋躺在散亂的藥草上。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>細細的繩結還維持著被手指長久摩挲後的弧度。兩隻鳥停在紅布中央，彼此背對，像一段沒有說出口的話。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>有人說，安樂館的小金藏總在深夜替人調香。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>她懂得如何把沉香磨得像雪，也懂得把人心裡那些不肯熄滅的東西，一點點封進布袋裡。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>相思、妒意、久病、亡魂。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>據說有些香，不能在雨夜打開。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>因為香氣一旦碰到濕氣，死去的人就會記起回家的路。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>紙角那團淡淡的影子，看起來像被遺忘的衣物，又像某種蜷伏的獸。沒有人知道那是什麼。江戶的人總習慣不把事情說破。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>因為真正可怕的東西，一旦被叫出名字，就會開始靠近。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>而那只香袋，直到現在，都還像在等待誰的體溫。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>這類小品浮世繪，在江戶後期常被稱作「摺物」或玩具繪的一部分。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>它們未必描繪英雄，也沒有名山大河。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>只是人們生活裡微小到幾乎會被忘記的東西。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>香袋、藥草、紙盒、女人的袖香。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>可江戶人相信——\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>真正殘留在人世的，不是刀劍，而是氣味。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>據說當時的茶屋與遊郭，經常會販售帶有護身、戀慕或驅邪意味的香囊。有人把頭髮藏進去，有人放入寫著名字的短箋。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>火一熄。\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>房間裡剩下的，就只有香氣與執念。\u003Cbr>\u003C\u002Fp>","\u003Cp>The red on the paper has already faded a little.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>But the sachet still looks warm,\r\u003Cbr>as if it had only just slipped from someone's sleeve.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>The night is quiet.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Tatami holds the dampness of rain.\r\u003Cbr>Somewhere beyond the wooden shutters,\r\u003Cbr>wind moves like fingers across paper doors.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>The charcoal fire is almost dead now.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Only a small red breath remains.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>The woman who owned the pouch is already gone.\r\u003Cbr>Or perhaps—\r\u003Cbr>she never returned at all.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>The sachet rests upon scattered medicinal herbs.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Its cords still carry the curve of hands\r\u003Cbr>that touched them too often.\r\u003Cbr>Two birds face away from one another on the fabric,\r\u003Cbr>like words left unsaid.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>They said a woman called Koganezō of Anrakukan\r\u003Cbr>mixed incense deep into the night.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>She knew how to grind aloeswood until it became softer than snow.\r\u003Cbr>She also knew how to seal human feelings inside cloth.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Longing.\r\u003Cbr>Jealousy.\r\u003Cbr>Illness.\r\u003Cbr>The memory of the dead.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Some incense, people whispered,\r\u003Cbr>must never be opened during rain.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Because once fragrance touches wet air,\r\u003Cbr>the dead begin remembering the road home.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>At the edge of the print,\r\u003Cbr>a pale shape sleeps beside the box.\r\u003Cbr>Cloth perhaps.\r\u003Cbr>Or an animal curled into itself.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>No one would ask.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>People in Edo preferred certain things unnamed.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Because once fear receives a name,\r\u003Cbr>it begins to move closer.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>And even now,\r\u003Cbr>that small sachet still seems to wait\r\u003Cbr>for the warmth of someone's hand.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>These quiet prints appeared often during the later Edo years,\r\u003Cbr>sometimes as surimono,\r\u003Cbr>sometimes as small private images passed between townspeople.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>No warriors.\r\u003Cbr>No famous rivers.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Only the forgotten objects of ordinary nights.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>Incense pouches.\r\u003Cbr>Herbs.\r\u003Cbr>Paper boxes.\r\u003Cbr>Perfume hidden inside kimono sleeves.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>But Edo people believed\r\u003Cbr>the things that remain in this world are not swords—\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>they are scents.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>In teahouses and pleasure quarters,\r\u003Cbr>protective sachets were sold for love, luck, and warding away spirits.\r\u003Cbr>Some hid strands of hair inside them.\r\u003Cbr>Others folded secret names into paper slips.\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>And when the final candle went out,\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>all that remained in the room\r\u003Cbr>was fragrance—\r\u003C\u002Fp>\u003Cp>and attachment.\u003Cbr>\u003C\u002Fp>",{},{"title":13,"description":14,"og_type":15,"og_locale":16,"og_locale_alternate":17},"Lacquer Inrō with Waterbirds and Ox-shaped Netsuke in a Box\r\nFrom the Spring Rain Collection (Harusame shū), vol. 3 | Totoya Hokkei - 浮世繪畫廊","探索大都會藝術博物館收藏的經典浮世繪《Lacquer Inrō with Waterbirds and Ox-shaped Netsuke in a Box\r\nFrom the Spring Rain Collection (Harusame shū), vol. 3》，由繪師 Totoya Hokkei 於 probably 1817 創作。","article","zh_TW","en_US",{"@context":19,"@type":20,"name":5,"image":8,"dateCreated":7,"artworkMedium":21,"description":14,"creator":22},"https:\u002F\u002Fschema.org","VisualArtwork","Woodblock print",{"@type":23,"name":6},"Person",{"id":25,"original_title":26,"seo_title":27,"image_url":28},"met-53314","Concert of European Music (Ōshū kangengaku gassō no zu)","Concert of European Music (Ōshū kangengaku gassō no zu) | Yōshū (Hashimoto) Chikanobu - 浮世繪畫廊","\u002Fimages\u002Fshinhanga\u002Fmet-53314.webp",1783762977113]