In this series of articles, I am attempting to translate and contextualise the dōka of Hasegawa Eishin-ryū. All articles in this series can be found here. This article covers the tanka for the fifth technique, Oroshi.

Gohon-me: Oroshi

Oroshi, or Yamaoroshi, is the fifth technique in Hasegawa Eishin-ryū. Like Ukigumo, this technique varies somewhat in execution between Musō Jikiden Eishin-ryū and Musō Shinden-ryū. However the essential point of the waza remains the same.

Another similarity between Oroshi and Ukigumo is that Oroshi also contains some clear grappling elements. As with most, if not all of the Eishin-ryū waza, Oroshi may be interpreted in a number of ways in order to adapt it to different situations. In particular, this applies to the grappling elements. Different sensei teach different interpretations of Oroshi as their “standard,” and some sensei (my own for example) will teach more than one version. For simplicity’s sake I will only describe general versions of the technique for both Jikiden and Shinden.

Oroshi – in the context of the waza – has a very specific meaning. It literally means ‘wind blowing down from the mountain,’ and it is an image that appears often in Japanese poetry and literature. It is a word linked to Autumn and Winter – although apparently not a kigo, or seasonal word – and it is implied that the wind is cold and brisk. In Japanese, there are a number of related words pronounced oroshi, the root of all of which is the verb orosu, ‘to lower.’ The character for oroshi in this case – 颪 – is unique. It is a kokuji; a ‘Chinese’ character that was in fact devised in Japan. The lower part of the character is 風, ‘wind.’ The upper part is 下, ‘descend, lower, beneath.’

Oroshi often appears appended to the names of mountains, in order to identify the winds that come from those mountains. Ibuki oroshi (伊吹颪) and Hie oroshi (比叡颪) are examples of this. The Hanshin Tigers baseball team even has a theme song called Rokko Oroshi (六甲おろし) – literally, ‘the wind blowing down from Mt. Rokko.’ A generic form is yama oroshi. This means the same thing as oroshi, but contains a neat five syllables – handy for Japanese poets!

The tanka for Oroshi, interestingly, doesn’t contain the word oroshi at all. However it clearly describes such a wind. The key image in the tanka is a powerful sweep from high to low, swiftly overwhelming any attack.

Below is the waza as it appears in Musō Shinden-ryū. Musō Shinden-ryū and some branches of Musō Jikiden Eishin-ryū call this waza ‘Yamaoroshi’ (see above).

As with Ukigumo, the execution and riai is slightly different for Jikiden and Shinden. As before, I will introduce a version of the waza for both schools, adapting my description of the Shinden waza from the Japanese edition of Musō Shinden-ryū Iaidō by Shigeyoshi Yamatsuta (Airyūdō, 2002). As I do not personally study Musō Shinden-ryū, I will mainly look at the tanka from a Jikiden perspective. However I hope that Shinden practitioners may also find something interesting here.

Musō Jikiden Eishin-ryū:

The practitioner is sitting to the left of his opponent. The opponent suddenly moves to grab the practitioner’s tsuka. The practitioner moves his tsuka out of the way in a circular motion and strikes the face of the opponent with the tsukagashira.* He then draws the sword and, dropping his hips, cuts migi kesa with the sword striking the point between the shoulder and neck of the opponent (the kataguchi). Placing his hand on the back of the sword, the practitioner pulls the opponent to the floor, face down. He then performs furikaburi into the same high hassō-like position as in Ukigumo, before straightening up, assuming jōdan and finishing off the downed opponent with a deep kirioroshi.

* As a brief example of the grappling variations mentioned above, the circular evading motion of the tsuka here can also be used to break the grip of an opponent who has grabbed the tsuka, or throw him.

Musō Shinden-ryū:

The practitioner is sitting to the left of his opponent. The opponent moves to draw his sword, and the practitioner turns to the right and strikes the opponent’s right hand with his tsuka before stamping on the opponent’s thigh. He then twists his hips and, with his foot still on the opponent’s thigh, draws his sword, striking the opponent across the chest with the blade. Placing his left hand on the back of the blade, he pulls the opponent to the floor, face up. Raising the blade so its tip is pointing upwards, the practitioner straightens up, assumes jōdan and makes a deep cut to the downed opponent’s body.

颪

高嶺より吹き下す風強ければ
麓の木々に雪もたまらず

Oroshi

Takane yori
Fukiorosu kaze
Tsuyokereba
Fumoto no kigi ni
Yuki mo tamarazu

The powerful wind
Blowing down from the high peak
Is so powerful
No snow can settle upon
The trees at the mountain’s base

This is a relatively straightforward tanka. The image is very clear: a powerful wind blows down from the mountain, clearing the snow from the trees at the base. We can see the winter imagery here too – as one might reasonably assume, ‘snow’ is a seasonal word (kigo) for winter. The image of the oroshi scattering or dispersing things may be found in other Japanese poems. The following is from the chapter ‘Yūgiri’ in The Tale of Genji:

山おろしいと烈しう、木の葉の隠ろへなくなりて

Yamaoroshi ito hageshiu, ko no ha no kakuroe nakunarite

A powerful wind blowing down from the mountain stripped the trees bare of their leaves.

The yamaoroshi stripping leaves from trees is a common image in Japanese poetry. The chapter Yūgiri takes place in autumn, and as mentioned above oroshi is an autumn or winter wind. In this case, the dying leaves are all swept away on the wind. The Eishin-ryū tanka contains a similar image, but rather than the leaves being scattered, it is the winter snow. Other classical Japanese poems might feature pine needles, or fallen autumn leaves being scattered by the wind.

Another famous example of this image may be found in the following tanka from the Shinkokin Wakashū (591), written by Minamoto no Saneakira in the 10th century:

ほのぼのと有明の月の月影に
紅葉吹きおろす山おろしの風

Honobono to
Ariake no tsuki no
Tsukikage ni
Momiji fukiorosu
Yamaoroshi no kaze

In the faint glow from the wan morning moon;
Autumn leaves are blown down
By the mountain wind

This poem uses the same imagery of scattered leaves as the Genji poem above (although the poem pre-dates The Tale of Genji). This poem has a lonely feeling, and the wind here does not come across as such a mighty force. In the following poem, however, written by Fujiwara no Masatsune (1170-1221), the mountain wind – specifically the mountain wind blowing from Mt. Hira down to Lake Biwa – is a little closer to that of the Eishin-ryū tanka:

 

峰寒き比良の山おろし雪散りて　
汀吹きしく比良の山風

Mine samuki
Hira no yamaoroshi
Yuki chirite
Migiwa fukishiku
Hira no yamakaze

A great wind blows down
From Mount Hira’s freezing summit
Scattering the snow;
The breeze at the water’s edge
Is the wind of Mount Hira

In the context of Eishin-ryū, the Oroshi tanka seems quite straightforward to interpret. The waza begins with the practitioner raising his hips and ‘floating’ them. After striking the opponent, the practitioner then sweeps forward and down, dropping the hips low and putting pressure on the opponent with his sword. There is a very definite movement downwards, pressing onto the opponent with the body weight. This hip movement from high to low may be seen in the photos to the left.

The speed and power of the practitioner’s movement, smashing into the opponent and disrupting his offensive before it has time to form, may be seen in the mountain wind blowing aside the snow.

Pulling the opponent to the floor might be seen as a continuation of this. Like the metaphor of clouds settling on the mountain peaks and smothering them in Ukigumo, the blowing away of the snow could easily extend to the dragging of the opponent to the ground (the snow cannot remain on the trees; it is carried away by the wind).

A very simple interpretation, yes: but the image of the mountain wind has great power. It is a mighty force that sweeps the snow ahead of it, just as the practitioner blasts down into – and through – the opponent in this waza.

This is only a very basic, beginner’s translation and contextualisation. As always, I leave it to those more experienced and knowledgeable than myself to find the deeper meaning in the poem.

Comments and constructive criticisms are very welcome.