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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16500-0.txt b/16500-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d8e2c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/16500-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3724 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of More Translations from the Chinese, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: More Translations from the Chinese + +Author: Various + +Translator: Arthur Waley + +Release Date: August 10, 2005 [EBook #16500] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Jonathan Niehof and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +_Translations by Arthur Waley_ +I A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY CHINESE POEMS +II MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE + + + MORE TRANSLATIONS + FROM THE CHINESE + BY + ARTHUR WALEY + + NEW YORK + ALFRED · A · KNOPF + MCMXIX + + +COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY +ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. + +PRINTED BY THE VAIL-BALLOU CO., BINGHAMTON, N.Y. +ON WARREN’S INDIA TINT OLD STYLE PAPER +BOUND BY THE PLIMPTON PRESS, NORWOOD, MASS + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE +INTRODUCTION 5 + +CH‘Ü YÜAN:-- + The Great Summons 13 + +WANG WEI:-- + Prose Letter 23 + +LI PO:-- + Drinking Alone by Moonlight 27 + In the Mountains on a Summer Day 29 + Waking from Drunkenness on a Spring Day 30 + Self-Abandonment 31 + To Tan Ch‘iu 32 + Clearing at Dawn 33 + +PO CHÜ-I:-- + Life of Po Chü-i 35 + After Passing the Examination 37 + Escorting Candidates to the Examination Hall 38 + In Early Summer Lodging in a Temple to Enjoy + the Moonlight 39 + Sick Leave 40 + Watching the Reapers 41 + Going Alone to Spend a Night at the Hsien-Yu + Temple 42 + Planting Bamboos 43 + To Li Chien 44 + At the End of Spring 45 + The Poem on the Wall 46 + Chu Ch‘ēn Village 47 + Fishing in the Wei River 50 + Lazy Man’s Song 51 + Illness and Idleness 52 + Winter Night 53 + The Chrysanthemums in the Eastern Garden 54 + Poems in Depression, at Wei Village 55 + To His Brother Hsing-Chien, Who was in Tung-Ch‘uan 56 + Starting Early from the Ch‘u-Ch‘ēng Inn 57 + Rain 58 + The Beginning of Summer 59 + Visiting the Hsi-Lin Temple 60 + Prose Letter to Yüan Chēn 61 + Hearing the Early Oriole 65 + Dreaming that I Went with Lu and Yu to Visit + Yüan Chēn 66 + The Fifteenth Volume 67 + Invitation to Hsiao Chü-Shih 68 + To Li Chien 69 + The Spring River 70 + After Collecting the Autumn Taxes 71 + Lodging with the Old Man of the Stream 72 + To His Brother Hsing-Chien 73 + The Pine-Trees in the Courtyard 74 + Sleeping on Horseback 76 + Parting from the Winter Stove 77 + Good-Bye to the People of Hangchow 78 + Written when Governor of Soochow 79 + Getting Up Early on a Spring Morning 80 + Losing a Slave-Girl 81 + The Grand Houses at Lo-Yang 82 + The Cranes 83 + On His Baldness 84 + Thinking of the Past 85 + A Mad Poem Addressed to My Nephews and Nieces 87 + Old Age 88 + To a Talkative Guest 89 + To Liu Yü-Hsi 90 + My Servant Wakes Me 91 + Since I Lay Ill 92 + Song of Past Feelings 93 + Illness 96 + Resignation 97 + +YÜAN CHĒN:-- + The Story of Ts‘ui Ying-Ying 101 + The Pitcher 114 + +PO HSING-CHIEN:-- + The Story of Miss Li 117 + +WANG CHIEN:-- + Hearing that His Friend was Coming Back from + the War 137 + The South 138 + +OU-YANG HSIU:-- + Autumn 141 + +APPENDIX 144 + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +This book is not intended to be representative of Chinese literature as +a whole. I have chosen and arranged chronologically various pieces which +interested me and which it seemed possible to translate adequately. + +An account of the history and technique of Chinese poetry will be found +in the introduction to my last book.[1] Learned reviewers must not +suppose that I have failed to appreciate the poets whom I do not +translate. Nor can they complain that the more famous of these poets are +inaccessible to European readers; about a hundred of Li Po’s poems have +been translated, and thirty or forty of Tu Fu’s. I have, as before, +given half my space to Po Chü-i, of whose poems I had selected for +translation a much larger number than I have succeeded in rendering. I +will give literal versions of two rejected ones: + +[1] “170 Chinese Poems,” New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + + +EVENING + +[_A.D. 835_] + + _Water’s colour at-dusk still white; + Sunsets glow in-the-dark gradually nil. + Windy lotus shakes [like] broken fan; + Wave-moon stirs [like] string [of] jewels. + Crickets chirping answer one another; + Mandarin-ducks sleep, not alone. + Little servant repeatedly announces night; + Returning steps still hesitate._ + + +IN EARLY SPRING ALONE CLIMBING THE T‘IEN-KUNG PAGODA + +[_A.D. 389_] + + _T‘ien-kung sun warm, pagoda door open; + Alone climbing, greet Spring, drink one cup. + Without limit excursion-people afar-off wonder at me; + What cause most old most first arrived!_ + +While many of the pieces in “170 Chinese Poems” aimed at literary form +in English, others did no more than give the sense of the Chinese in +almost as crude a way as the two examples above. It was probably because +of this inconsistency that no reviewer treated the book as an experiment +in English unrhymed verse, though this was the aspect of it which most +interested the writer. + +In the present work I have aimed more consistently at poetic form, but +have included on account of their biographical interest two or three +rather unsuccessful versions of late poems by Po Chü-i. + +For leave to reprint I am indebted to the editors of the _English +Review_, _Nation_, _New Statesman_, _Bulletin of School of Oriental +Studies_, and _Reconstruction_. + + + + +CH‘U YÜAN + +[_Fourth Century B.C._] + + + + +[1] THE GREAT SUMMONS + + +_When Ch‘ü Yüan had been exiled from the Court for nine years, he became +so despondent that he feared his soul would part from his body and he +would die. It was then that he made the poem called “The Great Summons,” +calling upon his soul not to leave him._ + + Green Spring receiveth + The vacant earth; + The white sun shineth; + Spring wind provoketh + To burst and burgeon + Each sprout and flower. + In those dark caves where Winter lurketh + Hide not, my Soul! + O Soul come back again! O, do not stray! + + O Soul come back again and go not east or west, or north or south! + For to the East a mighty water drowneth Earth’s other shore; + Tossed on its waves and heaving with its tides + The hornless Dragon of the Ocean rideth: + Clouds gather low and fogs enfold the sea + And gleaming ice drifts past. + O Soul go not to the East, + To the silent Valley of Sunrise! + + O Soul go not to the South + Where mile on mile the earth is burnt away + And poisonous serpents slither through the flames; + Where on precipitous paths or in deep woods + Tigers and leopards prowl, + And water-scorpions wait; + Where the king-python rears his giant head. + O Soul, go not to the South + Where the three-footed tortoise spits disease! + + O Soul go not to the West + Where level wastes of sand stretch on and on; + And demons rage, swine-headed, hairy-skinned, + With bulging eyes; + Who in wild laughter gnash projecting fangs. + O Soul go not to the West + Where many perils wait! + + O Soul go not to the North, + To the Lame Dragon’s frozen peaks; + Where trees and grasses dare not grow; + Where a river runs too wide to cross + And too deep to plumb, + And the sky is white with snow + And the cold cuts and kills. + O Soul seek not to fill + The treacherous voids of the north! + + O Soul come back to idleness and peace. + In quietude enjoy + The lands of Ching and Ch‘u. + There work your will and follow your desire + Till sorrow is forgot, + And carelessness shall bring you length of days. + O Soul come back to joys beyond all telling! + + Where thirty cubits high at harvest-time + The corn is stacked; + Where pies are cooked of millet and bearded-maize. + Guests watch the steaming bowls + And sniff the pungency of peppered herbs. + The cunning cook adds slices of bird-flesh, + Pigeon and yellow-heron and black-crane. + They taste the badger-stew. + O Soul come back to feed on foods you love! + + Next are brought + Fresh turtle, and sweet chicken cooked in cheese + Pressed by the men of Ch‘u. + And pickled sucking-pig + And flesh of whelps floating in liver-sauce + With salad of minced radishes in brine; + All served with that hot spice of southernwood + The land of Wu supplies. + O Soul come back to choose the meats you love! + + Roasted daw, steamed widgeon and grilled quail-- + On every fowl they fare. + Boiled perch and sparrow broth,--in each preserved + The separate flavour that is most its own. + O Soul come back to where such dainties wait! + + The four strong liquors are warming at the fire + So that they grate not on the drinker’s throat. + How fragrant rise their fumes, how cool their taste! + Such drink is not for louts or serving-men! + And wise distillers from the land of Wu + Blend unfermented spirit with white yeast + And brew the _li_ of Ch‘u. + O Soul come back and let your yearnings cease! + + Reed-organs from the lands of T‘ai and Ch‘in + And Wei and Chēng + Gladden the feasters, and old songs are sung: + The “Rider’s Song” that once + Fu-hsi, the ancient monarch, made; + And the harp-songs of Ch‘u. + Then after prelude from the flutes of Chao + The ballad-singer’s voice rises alone. + O Soul come back to the hollow mulberry-tree![1] + + Eight and eight the dancers sway, + Weaving their steps to the poet’s voice + Who speaks his odes and rhapsodies; + They tap their bells and beat their chimes + Rigidly, lest harp and flute + Should mar the measure. + Then rival singers of the Four Domains + Compete in melody, till not a tune + Is left unsung that human voice could sing. + O Soul come back and listen to their songs! + + Then women enter whose red lips and dazzling teeth + Seduce the eye; + But meek and virtuous, trained in every art; + Fit sharers of play-time, + So soft their flesh and delicate their bones. + O Soul come back and let them ease your woe! + + Then enter other ladies with laughing lips + And sidelong glances under moth-eye brows; + Whose cheeks are fresh and red; + Ladies both great of heart and long of limb, + Whose beauty by sobriety is matched. + Well-padded cheeks and ears with curving rim, + High-arching eyebrows, as with compass drawn, + Great hearts and loving gestures--all are there; + Small waists and necks as slender as the clasp + Of courtiers’ brooches. + O Soul come back to those whose tenderness + Drives angry thoughts away! + + Last enter those + Whose every action is contrived to please; + Black-painted eyebrows and white-powdered cheeks. + They reek with scent; with their long sleeves they brush + The faces of the feasters whom they pass, + Or pluck the coats of those who will not stay. + O Soul come back to pleasures of the night! + + A summer-house with spacious rooms + And a high hall with beams stained red; + A little closet in the southern wing + Reached by a private stair. + And round the house a covered way should run + Where horses might be trained. + And sometimes riding, sometimes going afoot + You shall explore, O Soul, the parks of spring; + Your jewelled axles gleaming in the sun + And yoke inlaid with gold; + Or amid orchises and sandal-trees + Shall walk in the dark woods. + O Soul come back and live for these delights! + + Peacocks shall fill your gardens; you shall rear + The roc and phœnix, and red jungle-fowl, + Whose cry at dawn assembles river storks + To join the play of cranes and ibises; + Where the wild-swan all day + Pursues the glint of idle king-fishers. + O Soul come back to watch the birds in flight! + + He who has found such manifold delights + Shall feel his cheeks aglow + And the blood-spirit dancing through his limbs. + Stay with me, Soul, and share + The span of days that happiness will bring; + See sons and grandsons serving at the Court + Ennobled and enriched. + O Soul come back and bring prosperity + To house and stock! + + The roads that lead to Ch‘u + Shall teem with travellers as thick as clouds, + A thousand miles away. + For the Five Orders of Nobility + Shall summon sages to assist the King + And with godlike discrimination choose + The wise in council; by their aid to probe + The hidden discontents of humble men + And help the lonely poor. + O Soul come back and end what we began! + + Fields, villages and lanes + Shall throng with happy men; + Good rule protect the people and make known + The King’s benevolence to all the land; + Stern discipline prepare + Their natures for the soft caress of Art. + O Soul come back to where the good are praised! + + Like the sun shining over the four seas + Shall be the reputation of our King; + His deeds, matched only in Heaven, shall repair + The wrongs endured by every tribe of men,-- + Northward to Yu and southward to Annam + To the Sheep’s Gut Mountain and the Eastern Seas. + O Soul come back to where the wise are sought! + + Behold the glorious virtues of our King + Triumphant, terrible; + Behold with solemn faces in the Hall + The Three Grand Ministers walk up and down,-- + None chosen for the post save landed-lords + Or, in default, Knights of the Nine Degrees. + At the first ray of dawn already is hung + The shooting-target, where with bow in hand + And arrows under arm, + Each archer does obeisance to each, + Willing to yield his rights of precedence. + O Soul come back to where men honour still + The name of the Three Kings.[2] + +[1] The harp. + +[2] Yü, T‘ang and Wēn, the three just rulers of antiquity. + + + + +WANG WEI + +[_A.D. 699-759_] + + + + +[2] PROSE LETTER + +_To the Bachelor-of-Arts P‘ei Ti_ + + +Of late during the sacrificial month, the weather has been calm and +clear, and I might easily have crossed the mountain. But I knew that you +were conning the classics and did not dare disturb you. So I roamed +about the mountain-side, rested at the Kan-p‘ei Temple, dined with the +mountain priests, and, after dinner, came home again. Going northwards, +I crossed the Yüan-pa, over whose waters the unclouded moon shone with +dazzling rim. When night was far advanced, I mounted Hua-tzü’s Hill and +saw the moonlight tossed up and thrown down by the jostling waves of +Wang River. On the wintry mountain distant lights twinkled and vanished; +in some deep lane beyond the forest a dog barked at the cold, with a cry +as fierce as a wolf’s. The sound of villagers grinding their corn at +night filled the gaps between the slow chiming of a distant bell. + +Now I am sitting alone. I listen, but cannot hear my grooms and servants +move or speak. I think much of old days: how hand in hand, composing +poems as we went, we walked down twisting paths to the banks of clear +streams. + +We must wait for Spring to come: till the grasses sprout and the trees +bloom. Then wandering together in the spring hills we shall see the +trout leap lightly from the stream, the white gulls stretch their wings, +the dew fall on the green moss. And in the morning we shall hear the cry +of curlews in the barley-fields. + +It is not long to wait. Shall you be with me then? Did I not know the +natural subtlety of your intelligence, I would not dare address to you +so remote an invitation. You will understand that a deep feeling +dictates this course. + +Written without disrespect by Wang Wei, a dweller in the mountains. + + + + +LI PO + +[_A.D. 701-762_] + + + + +[3-5] DRINKING ALONE BY MOONLIGHT + +[_Three Poems_] + + +I + + A cup of wine, under the flowering trees; + I drink alone, for no friend is near. + Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon, + For he, with my shadow, will make three men. + The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine; + Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side. + Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave + I must make merry before the Spring is spent. + To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams; + In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks. + While we were sober, three shared the fun; + Now we are drunk, each goes his way. + May we long share our odd, inanimate feast, + And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.[1] + + +II + + In the third month the town of Hsien-yang + Is thick-spread with a carpet of fallen flowers. + Who in Spring can bear to grieve alone? + Who, sober, look on sights like these? + Riches and Poverty, long or short life, + By the Maker of Things are portioned and disposed; + But a cup of wine levels life and death + And a thousand things obstinately hard to prove. + When I am drunk, I lose Heaven and Earth. + Motionless--I cleave to my lonely bed. + At last I forget that I exist at all, + And at _that_ moment my joy is great indeed. + + +III + + If High Heaven had no love for wine, + There would not be a Wine Star in the sky. + If Earth herself had no love for wine, + There would not be a city called Wine Springs.[2] + Since Heaven and Earth both love wine, + I can love wine, without shame before God. + Clear wine was once called a Saint;[3] + Thick wine was once called “a Sage.”[3] + + Of Saint and Sage I have long quaffed deep, + What need for me to study spirits and _hsien_?[4] + At the third cup I penetrate the Great Way; + A full gallon--Nature and I are one ... + But the things I feel when wine possesses my soul + I will never tell to those who are not drunk. + +[1] The Milky Way. + +[2] Ch‘iu-ch‘üan, in Kansuh. + +[3] “History of Wei Dynasty” (Life of Hsü Mo): “A drunken visitor said, +‘Clear wine I account a Saint: thick wine only a Sage.’” + +[4] The lore of Rishi, Immortals. + + + + +[6] IN THE MOUNTAINS ON A SUMMER DAY + + + Gently I stir a white feather fan, + With open shirt sitting in a green wood. + I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone; + A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head. + + + + +[7] WAKING FROM DRUNKENNESS ON A SPRING DAY + + + “Life in the World is but a big dream; + I will not spoil it by any labour or care.” + So saying, I was drunk all the day, + Lying helpless at the porch in front of my door. + When I woke up, I blinked at the garden-lawn; + A lonely bird was singing amid the flowers. + I asked myself, had the day been wet or fine? + The Spring wind was telling the mango-bird. + Moved by its song I soon began to sigh, + And as wine was there I filled my own cup. + Wildly singing I waited for the moon to rise; + When my song was over, all my senses had gone. + + + + +[8] SELF-ABANDONMENT + + + I sat drinking and did not notice the dusk, + Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress. + Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream; + The birds were gone, and men also few. + + + + +[9] TO TAN CH‘IU + + + My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range, + Dearly loving the beauty of valleys and hills. + At green Spring he lies in the empty woods, + And is still asleep when the sun shines on high. + A pine-tree wind dusts his sleeves and coat; + A pebbly stream cleans his heart and ears. + I envy you, who far from strife and talk + Are high-propped on a pillow of blue cloud. + + + + +[10] CLEARING AT DAWN + + + The fields are chill; the sparse rain has stopped; + The colours of Spring teem on every side. + With leaping fish the blue pond is full; + With singing thrushes the green boughs droop. + The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks; + The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist. + By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud + Blown by the wind slowly scatters away. + + + + +PO CHU-I + +LIFE OF PO CHU-I + + +772 Born on 20th of 1st month. +800 Passes his examinations. +806 Receives a minor post at Chou-chih, near the capital. +807 Made Scholar of the Han Lin Academy. +811 Retires to Wei River, being in mourning for his mother. +814 Returns to Court. +815 Banished to Hsün-yang. +818 Removed to Chung-chou. +820 Reprieved and returns to Court. +822 Governor of Hangchow. +825 Governor of Soochow. +826 Retires owing to illness. +827 Returns to Ch‘ang-an. +829 Settles permanently at Lo-yang. +831 Governor of Ho-nan, the province of which Lo-yang was capital. +833 Retires owing to illness. +839 Has paralytic stroke in tenth month. +846 Dies in the eighth month. + + + + +[11] AFTER PASSING THE EXAMINATION + +[_A.D. 800_] + + + For ten years I never left my books; + I went up ... and won unmerited praise. + My high place I do not much prize; + The joy of my parents will first make me proud. + Fellow students, six or seven men, + See me off as I leave the City gate. + My covered couch is ready to drive away; + Flutes and strings blend their parting tune. + Hopes achieved dull the pains of parting; + Fumes of wine shorten the long road.... + Shod with wings is the horse of him who rides + On a Spring day the road that leads to home. + + + + +[12] ESCORTING CANDIDATES TO THE EXAMINATION HALL + +[_A.D. 805_] + + + At dawn I rode to escort the Doctors of Art; + In the eastern quarter the sky was still grey. + I said to myself, “You have started far too soon,” + But horses and coaches already thronged the road. + High and low the riders’ torches bobbed; + Muffled or loud, the watchman’s drum beat. + Riders, when I see you prick + To your early levee, pity fills my heart. + When the sun rises and the hot dust flies + And the creatures of earth resume their great strife, + You, with your striving, what shall you each seek? + Profit and fame, for that is all your care. + But I, you courtiers, rise from my bed at noon + And live idly in the city of Ch‘ang-an. + Spring is deep and my term of office spent; + Day by day my thoughts go back to the hills. + + + + +[13] IN EARLY SUMMER LODGING IN A TEMPLE TO ENJOY THE MOONLIGHT + +[_A.D. 805_] + + + In early summer, with two or three more + That were seeking fame in the city of Ch‘ang-an, + Whose low employ gave them less business + Than ever they had since first they left their homes,-- + With these I wandered deep into the shrine of Tao, + For the joy we sought was promised in this place. + When we reached the gate, we sent our coaches back; + We entered the yard with only cap and stick. + Still and clear, the first weeks of May, + When trees are green and bushes soft and wet; + When the wind has stolen the shadows of new leaves + And birds linger on the last boughs that bloom. + Towards evening when the sky grew clearer yet + And the South-east was still clothed in red, + To the western cloister we carried our jar of wine; + While we waited for the moon, our cups moved slow. + Soon, how soon her golden ghost was born, + Swiftly, as though she had waited for us to come. + The beams of her light shone in every place, + On towers and halls dancing to and fro. + Till day broke we sat in her clear light + Laughing and singing, and yet never grew tired. + In Ch‘ang-an, the place of profit and fame, + Such moods as this, how many men know? + + + + +[14] SICK LEAVE + +[_While Secretary to the Deputy-Assistant-Magistrate of Chou-chih, near +Ch‘ang-an, in A.D. 806_] + + + Propped on pillows, not attending to business; + For two days I’ve lain behind locked doors. + I begin to think that those who hold office + Get no rest, except by falling ill! + For restful thoughts one does not need space; + The room where I lie is ten foot square. + By the western eaves, above the bamboo-twigs, + From my couch I see the White Mountain rise. + But the clouds that hover on its far-distant peak + Bring shame to a face that is buried in the World’s dust. + + + + +[15] WATCHING THE REAPERS + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + Tillers of the soil have few idle months; + In the fifth month their toil is double-fold. + A south-wind visits the fields at night: + Suddenly the hill is covered with yellow corn. + Wives and daughters shoulder baskets of rice; + Youths and boys carry the flasks of wine. + Following after they bring a wage of meat, + To the strong reapers toiling on the southern hill, + Whose feet are burned by the hot earth they tread, + Whose backs are scorched by flames of the shining sky. + Tired they toil, caring nothing for the heat, + Grudging the shortness of the long summer day. + A poor woman follows at the reapers’ side + With an infant child carried close at her breast. + With her right hand she gleans the fallen grain; + On her left arm a broken basket hangs. + And _I_ to-day ... by virtue of what right + Have I never once tended field or tree? + My government-pay is three hundred tons; + At the year’s end I have still grain in hand. + Thinking of this, secretly I grew ashamed; + And all day the thought lingered in my head. + + + + +[16] GOING ALONE TO SPEND A NIGHT AT THE HSIEN-YU TEMPLE + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + The crane from the shore standing at the top of the steps; + The moon on the pool seen at the open door; + Where these are, I made my lodging-place + And for two nights could not turn away. + I am glad I chanced on a place so lonely and still + With no companion to drag me early home. + Now that I have tasted the joy of being alone + I will never again come with a friend at my side. + + + + +[17] PLANTING BAMBOOS + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + Unrewarded, my will to serve the State; + At my closed door autumn grasses grow. + What could I do to ease a rustic heart? + I planted bamboos, more than a hundred shoots. + When I see their beauty, as they grow by the stream-side, + I feel again as though I lived in the hills, + And many a time on public holidays + Round their railing I walk till night comes. + Do not say that their roots are still weak, + Do not say that their shade is still small; + Already I feel that both in garden and house + Day by day a fresher air moves. + But most I love, lying near the window-side, + To hear in their branches the sound of the autumn-wind. + + + + +[18] TO LI CHIEN + +[_Part of a Poem_] + +[_A.D. 807_] + + + Worldly matters again draw my steps; + Worldly things again seduce my heart. + Whenever for long I part from Li Chien + Gradually my thoughts grow narrow and covetous. + I remember how once I used to visit you; + I stopped my horse and tapped at the garden-gate. + Often when I came you were still lying in bed; + Your little children were sent to let me in. + And you, laughing, ran to the front-door + With coat-tails flying and cap all awry. + On the swept terrace, green patterns of moss; + On the dusted bench, clean shadows of leaves. + To gaze at the hills we sat in the eastern lodge; + To wait for the moon we walked to the southern moor. + At your quiet gate only birds spoke; + In your distant street few drums were heard. + Opposite each other all day we talked, + And never once spoke of profit or fame. + Since we parted hands, how long has passed? + Thrice and again the full moon has shone. + For when we parted the last flowers were falling, + And to-day I hear new cicadas sing. + The scented year suddenly draws to its close, + Yet the sorrow of parting is still unsubdued. + + + + +[19] AT THE END OF SPRING + +_To Yüan Chēn._[1] [_A.D. 810_] + + + The flower of the pear-tree gathers and turns to fruit; + The swallows’ eggs have hatched into young birds. + When the Seasons’ changes thus confront the mind + What comfort can the Doctrine of Tao give? + It will teach me to watch the days and months fly + Without grieving that Youth slips away; + If the Fleeting World is but a long dream, + It does not matter whether one is young or old. + But ever since the day that my friend left my side + And has lived an exile in the City of Chiang-ling, + There is one wish I cannot quite destroy: + That from time to time we may chance to meet again. + +[1] Po Chü-i’s great friend. See Nos. 63 and 64. + + + + +[20] THE POEM ON THE WALL + +[_A.D. 810_] + +[_Yüan Chēn wrote that on his way to exile he had discovered a poem +inscribed by Po Chü-i, on the wall of the Lo-k‘ou Inn._] + + + My clumsy poem on the inn-wall none cared to see. + With bird-droppings and moss’s growth the letters were blotched away. + There came a guest with heart so full, that though a page to the + Throne, + He did not grudge with his broidered coat to wipe off the dust, and + read. + + + + +[21] CHU CH‘ĒN VILLAGE + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + In Hsü-chou, in the District of Ku-fēng + There lies a village whose name is Chu-ch‘ēn-- + A hundred miles away from the county-town, + Amid fields of hemp and green of mulberry-trees. + Click, click goes the sound of the spinning-wheel; + Mules and oxen pack the village-streets. + The girls go drawing the water from the brook; + The men go gathering fire-wood on the hill. + So far from the town Government affairs are few; + So deep in the hills, man’s ways are simple. + Though they have wealth, they do not traffic with it; + Though they reach the age, they do not enter the Army. + Each family keeps to its village trade; + Grey-headed, they have never left the gates. + + Alive, they are the people of Ch‘ēn Village; + Dead, they become the dust of Ch‘ēn Village. + Out in the fields old men and young + Gaze gladly, each in the other’s face. + In the whole village there are only two clans; + Age after age Chus have married Ch‘ēns. + Near or distant, they have kinsmen in every house; + Young or old, they have friends wherever they go. + On white wine and roasted fowl they fare + At joyful meetings more than “once a week.” + While they are alive, they have no distant partings; + To choose a wife they go to a neighbour’s house. + When they are dead,--no distant burial; + Round the village graves lie thick. + They are not troubled either about life or death; + They have no anguish either of body or soul. + And so it happens that they live to a ripe age + And great-great-grandsons are often seen. + + _I_ was born in the Realms of Etiquette; + In early years, unprotected and poor. + Alone, I learnt to distinguish between Evil and Good; + Untutored, I toiled at bitter tasks. + The World’s Law honours Learning and Fame; + Scholars prize marriages and Caps. + With these fetters I gyved my own hands; + Truly I became a much-deceived man. + At ten years old I learnt to read books; + At fifteen, I knew how to write prose. + At twenty I was made a Bachelor of Arts; + At thirty I became a Censor at the Court. + Above, the duty I owe to Prince and parents; + Below, the ties that bind me to wife and child. + The support of my family, the service of my country-- + For these tasks my nature is not apt. + I reckon the time that I first left my home; + From then till now,--fifteen Springs! + My lonely boat has thrice sailed to Ch‘u; + Four times through Ch‘in my lean horse has passed. + I have walked in the morning with hunger in my face; + I have lain at night with a soul that could not rest. + East and West I have wandered without pause, + Hither and thither like a cloud astray in the sky. + In the civil-war my old home was destroyed; + Of my flesh and blood many are scattered and lost. + North of the River, and South of the River-- + In both lands are the friends of all my life; + Life-friends whom I never see at all,-- + Whose deaths I hear of only after the lapse of years. + Sad at morning, I lie on my bed till dusk; + Weeping at night, I sit and wait for dawn. + The fire of sorrow has burnt my heart’s core; + The frost of trouble has seized my hair’s roots. + In such anguish has my whole life passed; + Long I have envied the people of Ch‘ēn Village. + + + + +[22] FISHING IN THE WEI RIVER + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + In waters still as a burnished mirror’s face, + In the depths of Wei, carp and grayling swim. + Idly I come with my bamboo fishing-rod + And hang my hook by the banks of Wei stream. + A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear + Softly shaking my ten feet of line. + Though my body sits waiting for fish to come, + My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness.[1] + Long ago a white-headed man[2] + Also fished at the same river’s side; + A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish, + At seventy years, he caught Wēn Wang.[2] + But _I_, when I come to cast my hook in the stream, + Have no thought either of fish or men. + Lacking the skill to capture either prey, + I can only bask in the autumn water’s light. + When I tire of this, my fishing also stops; + I go to my home and drink my cup of wine. + +[1] See “Chuang Tzŭ,” chap. i, end. + +[2] The Sage T‘ai-kung sat still till he was seventy, apparently +fishing, but really waiting for a Prince who would employ him. At last +Wēn Wang, Prince of Chou, happened to come that way and at once made him +his counsellor. + + + + +[23] LAZY MAN’S SONG + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it; + I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it. + My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it. + My clothes are torn; I am too lazy to darn them. + I have got wine, but am too lazy to drink; + So it’s just the same as if my cellar were empty. + I have got a harp, but am too lazy to play; + So it’s just the same as if it had no strings. + My wife tells me there is no more bread in the house; + I want to bake, but am too lazy to grind. + My friends and relatives write me long letters; + I should like to read them, but they’re such a bother to open. + I have always been told that Chi Shu-yeh[1] + Passed his whole life in absolute idleness. + But he played the harp and sometimes transmuted metals, + So even _he_ was not so lazy as I. + +[1] Also known as Chi K‘ang. A famous Quietist. + + + + +[24] ILLNESS AND IDLENESS + +[_Circa A.D. 812_] + + + Illness and idleness give me much leisure. + What do I do with my leisure, when it comes? + I cannot bring myself to discard inkstone and brush; + Now and then I make a new poem. + When the poem is made, it is slight and flavourless, + A thing of derision to almost every one. + Superior people will be pained at the flatness of the metre; + Common people will hate the plainness of the words. + I sing it to myself, then stop and think about it ... + + * * * * * + + The Prefects of Soochow and P‘ēng-tsē[1] + Would perhaps have praised it, but they died long ago. + Who else would care to hear it? + No one to-day except Yüan Chēn, + And _he_ is banished to the City of Chiang-ling, + For three years an usher in the Penal Court. + Parted from me by three thousand leagues + He will never know even that the poem was made. + +[1] Wei Ying-wu, eighth century A.D., and T‘ao Ch‘ien, A.D. 365-427. + + + + +[25] WINTER NIGHT + +[_Written during his retirement in 812_] + + + My house is poor; those that I love have left me; + My body sick; I cannot join the feast. + There is not a living soul before my eyes + As I lie alone locked in my cottage room. + My broken lamp burns with a feeble flame; + My tattered curtains are crooked and do not meet. + “Tsek, tsek” on the door-step and window-sill + Again I hear the new snow fall. + As I grow older, gradually I sleep less; + I wake at midnight and sit up straight in bed. + If I had not learned the “art of sitting and forgetting,”[1] + How could I bear this utter loneliness? + Stiff and stark my body cleaves to the earth; + Unimpeded my soul yields to Change.[2] + So has it been for four hateful years, + Through one thousand and three hundred nights! + +[1] Yen Hui told Confucius that he had acquired the “art of sitting and +forgetting.” Asked what that meant, Yen Hui replied, “I have learnt to +discard my body and obliterate my intelligence; to abandon matter and be +impervious to sense-perception. By this method I become one with the +All-Pervading.”--_Chuang Tzŭ_, chap. vi. + +[2] “Change” is the principle of endless mutation which governs the +Universe. + + + + +[26] THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS IN THE EASTERN GARDEN + +[_A.D. 812_] + + + The days of my youth left me long ago; + And now in their turn dwindle my years of prime. + With what thoughts of sadness and loneliness + I walk again in this cold, deserted place! + In the midst of the garden long I stand alone; + The sunshine, faint; the wind and dew chill. + The autumn lettuce is tangled and turned to seed; + The fair trees are blighted and withered away. + All that is left are a few chrysanthemum-flowers + That have newly opened beneath the wattled fence. + I had brought wine and meant to fill my cup, + When the sight of these made me stay my hand. + I remember, when I was young, + How easily my mood changed from sad to gay. + If I saw wine, no matter at what season, + Before I drank it, my heart was already glad. + But now that age comes, + A moment of joy is harder and harder to get. + And always I fear that when I am quite old + The strongest liquor will leave me comfortless. + Therefore I ask you, late chrysanthemum-flower + At this sad season why do you bloom alone? + Though well I know that it was not for my sake, + Taught by you, for a while I will open my face. + + + + +[27] POEMS IN DEPRESSION, AT WEI VILLAGE + +[_A.D. 812_] + + +[1] + + I hug my pillow and do not speak a word; + In my empty room no sound stirs. + Who knows that, all day a-bed, + I am not ill and am not even asleep? + + +[2] + + Turned to jade are the boy’s rosy cheeks; + To his sick temples the frost of winter clings.... + Do not wonder that my body sinks to decay; + Though my limbs are old, my heart is older yet. + + + + +[28] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN, WHO WAS SERVING IN TUNG-CH‘UAN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Sullen, sullen, my brows are ever knit; + Silent, silent, my lips will not move. + It is not indeed that I choose to sorrow thus; + If I lift my eyes, who would share my joy? + Last Spring _you_ were called to the West + To carry arms in the lands of Pa and Shu; + And this Spring _I_ was banished to the South + To nurse my sickness on the River’s oozy banks. + You are parted from me by six thousand leagues; + In another world, under another sky. + Of ten letters, nine do not reach; + What can I do to open my sad face? + Thirsty men often dream of drink; + Hungry men often dream of food. + Since Spring came, where do my dreams lodge? + Ere my eyes are closed, I have travelled to Tung-ch‘uan. + + + + +[29] STARTING EARLY FROM THE CH‘U-CH‘ĒNG INN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Washed by the rain, dust and grime are laid; + Skirting the river, the road’s course is flat. + The moon has risen on the last remnants of night; + The travellers’ speed profits by the early cold. + In the great silence I whisper a faint song; + In the black darkness are bred sombre thoughts. + On the lotus-banks hovers a dewy breeze; + Through the rice-furrows trickles a singing stream. + At the noise of our bells a sleeping dog stirs; + At the sight of our torches a roosting bird wakes. + Dawn glimmers through the shapes of misty trees ... + For ten miles, till day at last breaks. + + + + +[30] RAIN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Since I lived a stranger in the City of Hsün-yang + Hour by hour bitter rain has poured. + On few days has the dark sky cleared; + In listless sleep I have spent much time. + The lake has widened till it almost joins the sky; + The clouds sink till they touch the water’s face. + Beyond my hedge I hear the boatmen’s talk; + At the street-end I hear the fisher’s song. + Misty birds are lost in yellow air; + Windy sails kick the white waves. + In front of my gate the horse and carriage-way + In a single night has turned into a river-bed. + + + + +[31] THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + At the rise of summer a hundred beasts and trees + Join in gladness that the Season bids them thrive. + Stags and does frolic in the deep woods; + Snakes and insects are pleased by the rank grass. + Wingèd birds love the thick leaves; + Scaly fish enjoy the fresh weeds. + But to one place Summer forgot to come; + I alone am left like a withered straw ... + Banished to the world’s end; + Flesh and bone all in distant ways. + From my native-place no tidings come; + Rebel troops flood the land with war. + Sullen grief, in the end, what will it bring? + I am only wearing my own heart away. + Better far to let both body and mind + Blindly yield to the fate that Heaven made. + Hsün-yang abounds in good wine; + I will fill my cup and never let it be dry. + On Pēn River fish are cheap as mud; + Early and late I will eat them, boiled and fried. + With morning rice at the temple under the hill, + And evening wine at the island in the lake ... + Why should my thoughts turn to my native land? + For in this place one could well end one’s age. + + + + +[32] VISITING THE HSI-LIN TEMPLE + +[_Written during his exile_] + + + I dismount from my horse at the Hsi-lin Temple; + I throw the porter my slender riding-whip. + In the morning I work at a Government office-desk; + In the evening I become a dweller in the Sacred Hills. + In the second month to the north of Kuang-lu + The ice breaks and the snow begins to melt. + On the southern plantation the tea-plant thrusts its sprouts; + Through the northern sluice the veins of the spring ooze. + + * * * * * + + This year there is war in An-hui, + In every place soldiers are rushing to arms. + Men of learning have been summoned to the Council Board; + Men of action are marching to the battle-line. + Only I, who have no talents at all, + Am left in the mountains to play with the pebbles of the stream. + + + + +[33] PROSE LETTER TO YÜAN CHĒN + +[_A.D. 818_] + + +Night of the tenth day of the fourth month. Lo-t‘ien[1] says: O +Wei-chih,[2] Wei-chih, it is three years since I saw your face and +almost two years since I had a letter from you. Is man’s life so long +that he can afford such partings? Much less should hearts joined by glue +be set in bodies remote as Hu and Yüeh.[3] In promotion we could not be +together; and in failure we cannot forget each other. Snatched and +wrenched apart, separately each of us grows grey. O Wei-chih, what is to +be done? But this is the work of Heaven and there is no use in speaking +of it. + +When I first arrived at Hsün-yang, Hsiung Ju-tēng[4] came with the +letter which you had written the year before, when you were so ill. +First you told me of the progress of your illness, next of your feelings +while you were ill and last you spoke of all our meetings and partings, +and of the occasion of your own difficulties and dangers. You had no +time to write more, but sent a bundle of your writings with a note +attached, which said, “Later on I will send a message by Po +Min-chung.[5] Ask him for news and that will do instead of a letter.” +Alas! Is it thus that Wei-chih treats me? But again, I read the poem you +wrote when you heard I had been banished: + + _The lamp had almost spent its light: shadows filled the room, + The night I heard that Lo-t‘ien was banished to Kiu-kiang. + And I that had lain sick to death sat up suddenly in bed; + A dark wind blowing rain entered at the cold window._ + +If even strangers’ hearts are touched by these lines, much more must +mine be; so that to this day I cannot recite them without pain. Of this +matter I will say no more, but tell you briefly what has passed of late. + +It is more than three years since I came to Kiu-kiang. All this time my +body has been strong and my heart much at peace. There has been no +sickness in my household, even among the servants. Last summer my elder +brother arrived from Hsü-chou, leading by the hand six or seven little +brothers and sisters, orphans of various households. So that I have +under my eyes all those who at present demand my care. They share with +me cold and heat, hunger and satiety. This is my first consolation. + +The climate of the River Province is somewhat cool, so that fevers and +epidemics are rare. And while snakes and mosquitoes are few, the fish in +the Pēn are remarkably fat, the River wine is exceedingly good, and +indeed for the most part the food is like that of the North Country. +Although the mouths within my doors are many and the salary of a +Sub-Prefect is small, by a thrifty application of my means, I am yet +able to provide for my household without seeking any man’s assistance to +clothe their backs or fill their bellies. This is my second consolation. + +In the autumn of last year I visited Lu Shan[6] for the first time. +Reaching a point between the Eastern Forest and Western Forest Temples, +beneath the Incense-Burner Peak, I was enamoured by the unequalled +prospect of cloud-girt waters and spray-clad rocks. Unable to leave +this place, I built a cottage here. Before it stand ten tall pines and a +thousand tapering bamboos. With green creepers I fenced my garden; with +white stones I made bridge and path. Flowing waters encircle my home; +flying spray falls between the eaves. Red pomegranate and white lotus +cluster on the steps of the pond. All is after this pattern, though I +cannot here name each delight. Whenever I come here alone, I am moved to +prolong my stay to ten days; for of the things that have all my life +most pleased me, not one is missing. So that not only do I forget to go +back, but would gladly end my days here. This is my third consolation. + +Remembering that not having had news of me for so long, you might be in +some anxiety with regard to me, I have hastened to set your mind at rest +by recording these three consolations. What else I have to tell shall be +set out in due order, as follows....[7] + +Wei-chih, Wei-chih! The night I wrote this letter I was sitting at the +mountain-window of my thatched hut. I let my brush run as my hand willed +and wrote at hazard as my thoughts came. When I folded it and addressed +it, I found that dawn had come. I raised my head and saw only a few +mountain-priests, some sitting, some sleeping. I heard the mournful +cries of mountain apes and the sad twitterings of valley birds. O friend +of all my life, parted from me by a thousand leagues, at such times as +this “dim thoughts of the World”[8] creep upon me for a while; so, +following my ancient custom, I send you these three couplets: + + _I remember how once I wrote you a letter sitting in the Palace at + night, + At the back of the Hall of Golden Bells, when dawn was coming in the + sky. + This night I fold your letter--in what place? + Sitting in a cottage on Lu Shan, by the light of a late lamp. + The caged bird and fettered ape are neither of them dead yet; + In the world of men face to face will they ever meet again?_ + +O Wei-chih, Wei-chih! This night, this heart--do you know them or not? +Lo-t‘ien bows his head. + +[1] Other name of Po Chü-i. + +[2] Other name of Yüan Chēn. + +[3] The extreme North and South of China. + +[4] A poet, several of whose short poems are well-known. + +[5] The son of Po Chü-i‘s uncle Po Ch‘i-k‘ang. + +[6] A famous mountain near Kiu-kiang. + +[7] What followed is omitted in the printed text. + +[8] This expression is used by Yüan Chēn in a poem addressed to Po +Chü-i. By “the World,” he means their life together at Court. + + + + +[34] HEARING THE EARLY ORIOLE + +[_Written in exile_] + + + When the sun rose I was still lying in bed; + An early oriole sang on the roof of my house. + For a moment I thought of the Royal Park at dawn + When the Birds of Spring greeted their Lord from his trees. + I remembered the days when I served before the Throne + Pencil in hand, on duty at the Ch‘ēng-ming;[1] + At the height of spring, when I paused an instant from work, + Morning and evening, was _this_ the voice I heard? + Now in my exile the oriole sings again + In the dreary stillness of Hsün-yang town ... + The bird’s note cannot really have changed; + All the difference lies in the listener’s heart. + If he could but forget that he lives at the World’s end, + The bird would sing as it sang in the Palace of old. + +[1] Name of a palace at Ch‘ang-an. + + + + +[35] DREAMING THAT I WENT WITH LU AND YU TO VISIT YÜAN CHĒN + +[_Written in exile_] + + + At night I dreamt I was back in Ch‘ang-an; + I saw again the faces of old friends. + And in my dreams, under an April sky, + They led me by the hand to wander in the spring winds. + Together we came to the village of Peace and Quiet; + We stopped our horses at the gate of Yüan Chēn. + Yüan Chēn was sitting all alone; + When he saw me coming, a smile came to his face. + He pointed back at the flowers in the western court; + Then opened wine in the northern summer-house. + He seemed to be saying that neither of us had changed; + He seemed to be regretting that joy will not stay; + That our souls had met only for a little while, + To part again with hardly time for greeting. + I woke up and thought him still at my side; + I put out my hand; there was nothing there at all. + + + + +[36] THE FIFTEENTH VOLUME + +[_Having completed the fifteenth volume of his works, the poet sends it +to his friends Yüan Chēn and Li Chien, with a jesting poem._] + +[_Written in 818_] + + + My long poem, the “Eternal Grief,”[1] is a beautiful and moving + work; + My ten “Songs of Shensi” are models of tunefulness. + I cannot prevent Old Yüan from stealing my best rhymes; + But I earnestly beg Little Li to respect my ballads and songs. + While I am alive riches and honour will never fall to my lot; + But well I know that after I am dead the fame of my books will live. + This random talk and foolish boasting forgive me, for to-day + I have added Volume Fifteen to the row that stands to my name. + +[1] See Giles, “Chinese Literature,” p. 169. + + + + +[37] INVITATION TO HSIAO CHÜ-SHIH[1] + +[_Written when Governor of Chung-Chou_] + + + Within the Gorges there is no lack of men; + They are people one meets, not people one cares for. + At my front door guests also arrive; + They are people one sits with, not people one knows. + When I look up, there are only clouds and trees; + When I look down--only my wife and child. + I sleep, eat, get up or sit still; + Apart from that, nothing happens at all. + But beyond the city Hsiao the hermit dwells; + And with _him_ at least I find myself at ease. + For _he_ can drink a full flagon of wine + And is good at reciting long-line poems. + Some afternoon, when the clerks have all gone home, + At a season when the path by the river bank is dry, + I beg you, take up your staff of bamboo-wood + And find your way to the parlour of the Government House. + +[1] Nos. 37, 38, 39, and 40 were written when the poet was Governor of a +remote part of Ssechuan,--in the extreme west of China. + + + + +[38] TO LI CHIEN + +[_A.D. 818_] + + + The province I govern is humble and remote; + Yet our festivals follow the Courtly Calendar. + At rise of day we sacrificed to the Wind God, + When darkly, darkly, dawn glimmered in the sky. + Officers followed, horsemen led the way; + They brought us out to the wastes beyond the town, + Where river mists fall heavier than rain, + And the fires on the hill leap higher than the stars. + + Suddenly I remembered the early levees at Court + When you and I galloped to the Purple Yard. + As we walked our horses up Dragon Tail Street + We turned our heads and gazed at the Southern Hills. + Since we parted, both of us have been growing old; + And our minds have been vexed by many anxious cares. + Yet even now I fancy my ears are full + Of the sound of jade tinkling on your bridle-straps. + + + + +[39] THE SPRING RIVER + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Heat and cold, dusk and dawn have crowded one upon the other; + Suddenly I find it is two years since I came to Chung-chou. + Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening + drum; + From my upper windows all I see is the ships that come and go.[1] + In vain the orioles tempt me with their song to stray beneath the + flowering trees; + In vain the grasses lure me by their colour to sit beside the pond. + There is one thing and one alone I never tire of watching-- + The spring river as it trickles over the stones and babbles past the + rocks. + +[1] “The Emperor Saga of Japan [reigned A.D. 810-23] one day quoted to +his Minister, Ono no Takamura, the couplet: + + ‘Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening + drum; + From my upper windows in the distance I see ships that come and go.’ + +Takamura, thinking these were the Emperor’s own verses, said: ‘If I may +venture to criticize an august composition, I would suggest that the +phrase “in the distance” be altered.’ The Emperor was delighted, for he +had purposely changed ‘all I see’ to ‘in the distance I see.’ At that +time there was only one copy of Po Chü-i’s poems in Japan and the +Emperor, to whom it belonged, had allowed no one to see it.”--From the +_Kōdanshō_ [twelfth century]. + + + + +[40] AFTER COLLECTING THE AUTUMN TAXES + + + From my high castle I look at the town below + Where the natives of Pa cluster like a swarm of flies. + How can I govern these people and lead them aright? + I cannot even understand what they say. + But at least I am glad, now that the taxes are in, + To learn that in my province there is no discontent. + I fear its prosperity is not due to me + And was only caused by the year’s abundant crops, + The papers that lie on my desk are simple and few; + My house by the moat is leisurely and still. + In the autumn rain the berries fall from the eaves; + At the evening bell the birds return to the wood. + A broken sunlight quavers over the southern porch + Where I lie on my couch abandoned to idleness. + + + + +[41] LODGING WITH THE OLD MAN OF THE STREAM + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Men’s hearts love gold and jade; + Men’s mouths covet wine and flesh. + Not so the old man of the stream; + He drinks from his gourd and asks nothing more. + South of the stream he cuts firewood and grass; + North of the stream he has built wall and roof. + Yearly he sows a single acre of land; + In spring he drives two yellow calves. + In these things he finds great repose; + Beyond these he has no wish or care. + By chance I met him walking by the water-side; + He took me home and lodged me in his thatched hut. + When I parted from him, to seek market and Court, + This old man asked my rank and pay. + Doubting my tale, he laughed loud and long: + “Privy Councillors do not sleep in barns.” + + + + +[42] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Can the single cup of wine + We drank this morning have made my heart so glad? + This is a joy that comes only from within, + Which those who witness will never understand. + I have but two brothers + And bitterly grieved that both were far away; + This Spring, back through the Gorges of Pa, + I have come to them safely, ten thousand leagues. + Two sisters I had + Who had put up their hair, but not twined the sash;[1] + Yesterday both were married and taken away + By good husbands in whom I may well trust. + I am freed at last from the thoughts that made me grieve, + As though a sword had cut a rope from my neck. + And limbs grow light when the heart sheds its care: + Suddenly I seem to be flying up to the sky! + + * * * * * + + Hsing-chien, drink your cup of wine + Then set it down and listen to what I say. + Do not sigh that your home is far away; + Do not mind if your salary is small. + Only pray that as long as life lasts, + You and I may never be forced to part. + +[1] I.e., got married. + + + + +[43] THE PINE-TREES IN THE COURTYARD + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Below the hall + The pine-trees grow in front of the steps, + Irregularly scattered,--not in ordered lines. + Some are tall and some are low: + The tallest of them is six roods high; + The lowest but ten feet. + They are like wild things + And no one knows who planted them. + They touch the walls of my blue-tiled house; + Their roots are sunk in the terrace of white sand. + Morning and evening they are visited by the wind and moon; + Rain or fine,--they are free from dust and mud. + In the gales of autumn they whisper a vague tune; + From the suns of summer they yield a cool shade. + At the height of spring the fine evening rain + Fills their leaves with a load of hanging pearls. + At the year’s end the time of great snow + Stamps their branches with a fret of glittering jade. + Of the Four Seasons each has its own mood; + Among all the trees none is like another. + Last year, when they heard I had bought this house, + Neighbours mocked and the World called me mad-- + That a whole family of twice ten souls + Should move house for the sake of a few pines! + Now that I have come to them, what have they given me? + They have only loosened the buckles of my care. + Yet even so, they are “profitable friends,”[1] + And fill my need of “converse with wise men.” + Yet when I consider how, still a man of the world, + In belt and cap I scurry through dirt and dust, + From time to time my heart twinges with shame + That I am not fit to be master of my pines! + +[1] See “Analects of Confucius” 4 and 5, where three kinds of +“profitable friends” and three kinds of “profitable pleasures” are +described; the third of the latter being “plenty of intelligent +companions.” + + + + +[44] SLEEPING ON HORSEBACK + +[_A.D. 822_] + + + We had rode long and were still far from the inn; + My eyes grew dim; for a moment I fell asleep. + Under my right arm the whip still dangled; + In my left hand the reins for an instant slackened. + Suddenly I woke and turned to question my groom: + “We have gone a hundred paces since you fell asleep.” + Body and spirit for a while had exchanged place; + Swift and slow had turned to their contraries. + For these few steps that my horse had carried me + Had taken in my dream countless aeons of time! + True indeed is that saying of Wise Men + “A hundred years are but a moment of sleep.” + + + + +[45] PARTING FROM THE WINTER STOVE + +[_A.D. 822_] + + + On the fifth day after the rise of Spring, + Everywhere the season’s gracious altitudes! + The white sun gradually lengthening its course, + The blue-grey clouds hanging as though they would fall; + The last icicle breaking into splinters of jade; + The new stems marshalling red sprouts. + The things I meet are all full of gladness; + It is not only _I_ who love the Spring. + To welcome the flowers I stand in the back garden; + To enjoy the sunlight I sit under the front eaves. + Yet still in my heart there lingers one regret; + Soon I shall part with the flame of my red stove! + + + + +[46] GOOD-BYE TO THE PEOPLE OF HANGCHOW + +[_A.D. 824_] + + + Elders and officers line the returning road; + Wine and soup load the parting table. + I have not ruled you with the wisdom of Shao Kung;[1] + What is the reason your tears should fall so fast? + My taxes were heavy, though many of the people were poor; + The farmers were hungry, for often their fields were dry. + All I did was to dam the water of the Lake[2] + And help a little in a year when things were bad. + +[1] A legendary ruler who dispensed justice sitting under a wild +pear-tree. + +[2] Po Chü-i built the dam on the Western Lake which is still known as +“Po’s dam.” + + + + +[47] WRITTEN WHEN GOVERNOR OF SOOCHOW + +[_A.D. 825_] + + + A Government building, not my own home. + A Government garden, not my own trees. + But at Lo-yang I have a small house + And on Wei River I have built a thatched hut. + I am free from the ties of marrying and giving in marriage; + If I choose to retire, I have somewhere to end my days. + And though I have lingered long beyond my time, + To retire now would be better than not at all! + + + + +[48] GETTING UP EARLY ON A SPRING MORNING + +[_Part of a poem written when Governor of Soochow in 825_] + + + The early light of the rising sun shines on the beams of my house; + The first banging of opened doors echoes like the roll of a drum. + The dog lies curled on the stone step, for the earth is wet with dew; + The birds come near to the window and chatter, telling that the day + is fine. + With the lingering fumes of yesterday’s wine my head is still heavy; + With new doffing of winter clothes my body has grown light. + + + + +[49] LOSING A SLAVE-GIRL + +[_Date uncertain_] + + + Around my garden the little wall is low; + In the bailiff’s lodge the lists are seldom checked. + I am ashamed to think we were not always kind; + I regret your labours, that will never be repaid. + The caged bird owes no allegiance; + The wind-tossed flower does not cling to the tree. + + * * * * * + + Where to-night she lies none can give us news; + Nor any knows, save the bright watching moon. + + + + +[50] THE GRAND HOUSES AT LO-YANG + +[_Circa A.D. 829_] + + + By woods and water, whose houses are these + With high gates and wide-stretching lands? + From their blue gables gilded fishes hang; + By their red pillars carven coursers run. + Their spring arbours, warm with caged mist; + Their autumn yards with locked moonlight cold. + To the stem of the pine-tree amber beads cling; + The bamboo-branches ooze ruby-drops. + Of lake and terrace who may the masters be? + Staff-officers, Councillors-of-State. + All their lives they have never come to see, + But know their houses only from the bailiff’s map! + + + + +[51] THE CRANES + +[_A.D. 830_] + + + The western wind has blown but a few days; + Yet the first leaf already flies from the bough. + On the drying paths I walk in my thin shoes; + In the first cold I have donned my quilted coat. + Through shallow ditches the floods are clearing away; + Through sparse bamboos trickles a slanting light. + In the early dusk, down an alley of green moss, + The garden-boy is leading the cranes home. + + + + +[52] ON HIS BALDNESS + +[_A.D. 832_] + + + At dawn I sighed to see my hairs fall; + At dusk I sighed to see my hairs fall. + For I dreaded the time when the last lock should go ... + They are all gone and I do not mind at all! + I have done with that cumbrous washing and getting dry; + My tiresome comb for ever is laid aside. + Best of all, when the weather is hot and wet, + To have no top-knot weighing down on one’s head! + I put aside my dusty conical cap; + And loose my collar-fringe. + In a silver jar I have stored a cold stream; + On my bald pate I trickle a ladle-full. + Like one baptized with the Water of Buddha’s Law, + I sit and receive this cool, cleansing joy. + _Now_ I know why the priest who seeks Repose + Frees his heart by first shaving his head. + + + + +[53] THINKING OF THE PAST + +[_A.D. 833_] + + + In an idle hour I thought of former days; + And former friends seemed to be standing in the room. + And then I wondered “Where are they now?” + Like fallen leaves they have tumbled to the Nether Springs. + Han Yü[1] swallowed his sulphur pills, + Yet a single illness carried him straight to the grave. + Yüan Chēn smelted autumn stone[2] + But before he was old, his strength crumbled away. + Master Tu possessed the “Secret of Health”: + All day long he fasted from meat and spice. + The Lord Ts‘ui, trusting a strong drug, + Through the whole winter wore his summer coat. + Yet some by illness and some by sudden death ... + All vanished ere their middle years were passed. + + Only I, who have never dieted myself + Have thus protracted a tedious span of age, + I who in young days + Yielded lightly to every lust and greed; + Whose palate craved only for the richest meat + And knew nothing of bismuth or calomel. + When hunger came, I gulped steaming food; + When thirst came, I drank from the frozen stream. + With verse I served the spirits of my Five Guts;[3] + With wine I watered the three Vital Spots. + Day by day joining the broken clod + I have lived till now almost sound and whole. + There is no gap in my two rows of teeth; + Limbs and body still serve me well. + Already I have opened the seventh book of years; + Yet I eat my fill and sleep quietly; + I drink, while I may, the wine that lies in my cup, + And all else commit to Heaven’s care. + +[1] The famous poet, d. 824 A.D. + +[2] Carbamide crystals. + +[3] Heart, liver, stomach, lungs and kidney. + + + + +[54] A MAD POEM ADDRESSED TO MY NEPHEWS AND NIECES + +[_A.D. 835_] + + + The World cheats those who cannot read; + _I_, happily, have mastered script and pen. + The World cheats those who hold no office; + _I_ am blessed with high official rank. + The old are often ill; + _I_, at this day have not an ache or pain. + They are often burdened with ties; + But _I_ have finished with marriage and giving in marriage. + No changes happen to disturb the quiet of my mind; + No business comes to impair the vigour of my limbs. + Hence it is that now for ten years + Body and soul have rested in hermit peace. + And all the more, in the last lingering years + What I shall need are very few things. + A single rug to warm me through the winter; + One meal to last me the whole day. + It does not matter that my house is rather small; + One cannot sleep in more than one room! + It does not matter that I have not many horses; + One cannot ride in two coaches at once! + As fortunate as me among the people of the world + Possibly one would find seven out of ten. + As contented as me among a hundred men + Look as you may, you will not find one. + In the affairs of others even fools are wise; + In their own business even sages err. + To no one else would I dare to speak my heart, + So my wild words are addressed to my nephews and nieces. + + + + +[55] OLD AGE + +[_Addressed to Liu Yü-hsi, who was born in the same year_] + +[_A.D. 835_] + + + We are growing old together, you and I, + Let us ask ourselves, what is age like? + The dull eye is closed ere night comes; + The idle head, still uncombed at noon. + Propped on a staff, sometimes a walk abroad; + Or all day sitting with closed doors. + One dares not look in the mirror’s polished face; + One cannot read small-letter books. + Deeper and deeper, one’s love of old friends; + Fewer and fewer, one’s dealings with young men. + One thing only, the pleasure of idle talk, + Is great as ever, when you and I meet. + + + + +[56] TO A TALKATIVE GUEST + +[_A.D. 836_] + + + The town visitor’s easy talk flows in an endless stream; + The country host’s quiet thoughts ramble timidly on. + “I beg you, Sir, do not tell me about things at Ch‘ang-an; + For you entered just when my harp was tuned and lying balanced on + my knees.” + + + + +[57] TO LIU YU-HSI + +[_A.D. 838_] + + + In length of days and soundness of limb you and I are one; + Our eyes are not wholly blind, nor our ears quite deaf. + Deep drinking we lie together, fellows of a spring day; + Or gay-hearted boldly break into gatherings of young men. + When, seeking flowers, we borrowed his horse, the river-keeper was + vexed; + When, to play on the water, we stole his boat, the Duke Ling was sore. + I hear it said that in Lo-yang, people are all shocked, + And call us by the name of “Liu and Po, those two mad old men.” + + + + +[58] MY SERVANT WAKES ME + +[_A.D. 839_] + + + My servant wakes me: “Master, it is broad day. + Rise from bed; I bring you bowl and comb. + Winter comes and the morning air is chill; + To-day your Honour must not venture abroad.” + When I stay at home, no one comes to call; + What must I do with the long, idle hours? + Setting my chair where a faint sunshine falls + I have warmed wine and opened my poetry-books. + + + + +[59] SINCE I LAY ILL + +[_A.D. 840_] + + + Since I lay ill, how long has passed? + Almost a hundred heavy-hanging days. + The maids have learnt to gather my medicine-herbs; + The dog no longer barks when the doctor comes. + The jars in my cellar are plastered deep with mould; + My singer’s carpets are half crumbled to dust. + How can I bear, when the Earth renews her light, + To watch from a pillow the beauty of Spring unfold? + + + + +[60] SONG OF PAST FEELINGS [With Preface] + +[_Circa A.D. 840_] + + +When Lo-t‘ien[1] was old, he fell ill of a palsy. So he made a list of +his possessions and examined his expenses, that he might reject whatever +had become superfluous. He had in his employ a girl about twenty years +old called Fan Su, whose postures delighted him when she sang or danced. +But above all she excelled in singing the “Willow-Branch,” so that many +called her by the name of this song, and she was well known by this name +in the town of Lo-yang. But she was on the list of unnecessary expenses +and was to be sent away. + +He had too a white horse with black mane, sturdy and sure-footed, which +he had ridden for many years. It stood on the list of things which could +be dispensed with, and was to be sold. When the groom led the horse +through the gate, it tossed its head and looked back, neighing once with +a sound in its voice that seemed to say: “I know I am leaving you and +long to stay.” Su, when she heard the horse neigh, rose timidly, bowed +before me and spoke sweetly, as shall hereafter be shown. When she had +done speaking her tears fell. + +When first I heard Su’s words, I was too sad to speak and could not +answer her. But in a little while I ordered the bridle to be turned and +the sleeve reversed.[1] Then I gave her wine and drank a cup myself, and +in my happiness sang a few score notes. And these notes turned into a +poem, a poem without fixed measure, for the measure followed my +irregular tune. In all there were 255 words. + +Alas! I am no Sage. I could neither forget past feelings nor show such +sensibility as this beast reputed incapable of feeling! Things that +happen lay hold of my heart, and when my heart is moved, I cannot +control it. Therefore, smiling at myself, I called this song “A Song of +Past Feelings Unforgotten.” + +The Song says: + + _I was selling my white horse + And sending Willow Branch away. + She covered her dark eyebrows; + He trailed his golden halter. + The horse, for want of speech, + Neighed long and turned his head; + And Willow Branch, twice bowing, + Knelt long and spoke to me: + “Master, you have ridden this horse five years, + One thousand eight hundred days; + Meekly he has borne the bit, + Without shying, without bolting. + And I have served you for ten years, + Three thousand and six hundred days; + Patient carrier of towel and comb,[2] + Without complaint, without loss. + And now, though my shape is lowly, + I am still fresh and strong. + And the colt is still in his prime, + Without lameness or fault. + Why should you not use the colt’s strength + To replace your sick legs? + Why should you not use my song to gladden your casual cup? + Need you in one morning send both away, + Send them away never to return? + This is what Su would say to you before she goes, + And this is what your horse meant also + When he neighed at the gate. + Seeing my distress, who am a woman, + And hearing its cries, that is but a horse, + Shall our master alone remain pitiless?”_ + +I looked up and sighed: I looked down and laughed. Then I said: + + _“Dear horse, stop your sad cries! + Sweet Su, dry your bitter tears! + For you shall go back to your stall; + And you to the women’s room. + For though I am ill indeed, + And though my years are at their close, + The doom of Hsiang Chi[3] has not befallen me yet. + Must I in a single day + Lose the horse I rode and the lady I loved? + Su, O Su! + Sing once again the Song of the Willow Branch! + And I will pour you wine in that golden cup + And take you with me to the Land of Drunkenness.”_ + +[1] I.e., Po Chü-i himself. + +[2] I.e., performing the functions of a wife. + +[3] Who, surrounded at the battle of Kai-hsia (202 B.C.), gave his horse +to a boatman, lest it should fall into the hands of the enemy. + + + + +[61] ILLNESS + +[_Written circa 842, when he was paralyzed_] + + + Dear friends, there is no cause for so much sympathy. + I shall certainly manage from time to time to take my walks abroad. + All that matters is an active mind, what is the use of feet? + By land one can ride in a carrying-chair; by water, be rowed in a boat. + + + + +[62] RESIGNATION + + + Keep off your thoughts from things that are past and done; + For thinking of the past wakes regret and pain. + Keep off your thoughts from thinking what will happen; + To think of the future fills one with dismay. + Better by day to sit like a sack in your chair; + Better by night to lie a stone in your bed. + When food comes, then open your mouth; + When sleep comes, then close your eyes. + + + + +YÜAN CHEN + +[_A.D. 799-831_] + + + + +[63] THE STORY OF TS‘UI YING-YING + + +During the Chēng-Yüan[1] period of the T‘ang dynasty there lived a +man called Chang.[2] His nature was gentle and refined, and his person +of great beauty. But his deeper feelings were resolutely held in +restraint, and he would indulge in no license. Sometimes his friends +took him to a party and he would try to join their frolics; but when the +rest were shouting and scuffling their hardest, Chang only pretended to +take his share. For he could never overcome his shyness. So it came +about that though already twenty-three, he had not yet enjoyed a woman’s +beauty. To those who questioned him he answered, “It is not such as +Master Tēng-t’u[3] who are true lovers of beauty; for they are merely +profligates. I consider myself a lover of beauty, who happens never to +have met with it. And I am of this opinion because I know that, in other +things, whatever is beautiful casts its spell upon me; so that I cannot +be devoid of feeling.” His questioners only laughed. + +[1] A.D. 785-805. + +[2] I.e., Yüan Chēn himself. + +[3] Type of the indiscriminate lover, fourth century B.C. + +About this time Chang went to Puchow. Some two miles east of the town +there is a temple called the P‘-u-chiu-ssŭ, and here he took up his +lodging. Now it happened that at this time the widow of a certain Ts‘ui +was returning to Ch‘ang-an.[4] She passed through Puchow on her way and +stayed at the same temple. + +[4] The capital of China at that time; now called Hsi-an-fu. + +This lady was born of the Chēng family and Chang’s mother was also a +Chēng. He unravelled their relationship and found that they were +second-cousins. + +This year General Hun-Chan[5] died at Puchow. There was a certain +Colonel Ting Wēn-ya who ill-treated his troops. The soldiers +accordingly made Hun Chan’s funeral the occasion of a mutiny, and began +to plunder the town. The Ts‘ui family had brought with them much +valuable property and many slaves. Subjected to this sudden danger when +far from home, they had no one from whom they could seek protection. + +[5] B. A.D. 735; d. 799. Famous for his campaigns against the Tibetans +and Uighurs. + +Now it happened that Chang had been friendly with the political party to +which the commander at Puchow belonged. At his request a guard was sent +to the temple and no disorder took place there. A few days afterwards +the Civil Commissioner Tu Chio was ordered by the Emperor to take over +the command of the troops. The mutineers then laid down their arms. + +The widow Chēng was very sensible of the service which Chang had +rendered. She therefore provided dainties and invited him to a banquet +in the middle hall. At table she turned to him and said, “I, your +cousin, a lonely and widowed relict, had young ones in my care. If we +had fallen into the hands of the soldiery, I could not have helped them. +Therefore the lives of my little boy and young daughter were saved by +your protection, and they owe you eternal gratitude. I will now cause +them to kneel before you, their merciful cousin, that they may thank you +for your favours.” First she sent for her son, Huan-lang, who was about +ten years old, a handsome and gentle child. Then she called to her +daughter, Ying-ying: “Come and bow to your cousin. Your cousin saved +your life.” For a long while she would not come, saying that she was +not well. The widow grew angry and cried: “Your cousin saved your life. +But for his help, you would now be a prisoner. How can you treat him so +rudely?” + +At last she came in, dressed in everyday clothes, with a look of deep +unhappiness in her face. She had not put on any ornaments. Her hair hung +down in coils, the black of her two eyebrows joined, her cheeks were not +rouged. But her features were of exquisite beauty and shone with an +almost dazzling lustre. + +Chang bowed to her, amazed. She sat down by her mother’s side and looked +all the time towards her, turning from him with a fixed stare of +aversion, as though she could not endure his presence. + +He asked how old she was. The widow answered, “She was born in the year +of the present Emperor’s reign that was a year of the Rat, and now it is +the year of the Dragon in the period Chēng-yüan.[6] So she must be +seventeen years old.” + +[6] I.e., A.D. 800. + +Chang tried to engage her in conversation, but she would not answer, and +soon the dinner was over. He was passionately in love with her and +wanted to tell her so, but could find no way. + +Ying-ying had a maid-servant called Hung-niang, whom Chang sometimes met +and greeted. Once he stopped her and was beginning to tell her of his +love for her mistress; but she was frightened and ran away. Then Chang +was sorry he had not kept silence. + +Next day he met Hung-niang again, but was ashamed and did not say what +was in his mind. But this time the maid herself broached the subject and +said to Chang, “Master, I dare not tell her what you told me, or even +hint at it. But since your mother was a kinswoman of the Ts‘uis, why do +you not seek my mistress’s hand on that plea?” + +Chang said, “Since I was a child in arms, my nature has been averse to +intimacy. Sometimes I have idled with wearers of silk and gauze, but my +fancy was never once detained. I little thought that in the end I should +be entrapped. + +“Lately at the banquet I could scarcely contain myself; and since then, +when I walk, I forget where I am going and when I eat, I forget to +finish my meal, and do not know how to endure the hours from dawn to +dusk. + +“If we were to get married through a matchmaker and perform the +ceremonies of Sending Presents and Asking Names, it would take many +months, and by that time you would have to look for me ‘in the +dried-fish shop.’ What is the use of giving me such advice as that?” + +The maid replied, “My mistress clings steadfastly to her chastity, and +even an equal could not trip her with lewd talk. Much less may she be +won through the stratagems of a maid-servant. But she is skilled in +composition, and often when she has made a poem or essay, she is +restless and dissatisfied for a long while after. You must try to +provoke her by a love-poem. There is no other way.” + +Chang was delighted and at once composed two Spring Poems to send her. +Hung-niang took them away and came back the same evening with a coloured +tablet, which she gave to Chang, saying, “This is from my mistress.” It +bore the title “The Bright Moon of the Fifteenth Night.” The words ran: + + _To wait for the moon I am sitting in the western parlour; + To greet the wind, I have left the door ajar. + When a flower’s shadow stirred and brushed the wall, + For a moment I thought it the shadow of a lover coming._ + +Chang could not doubt her meaning. That night was the fourth after the +first decade of the second month. Beside the eastern wall of Ts‘ui’s +apartments there grew an apricot-tree; by climbing it one could cross +the wall. On the next night (which was the night of the full moon) Chang +used the tree as a ladder and crossed the wall. He went straight to the +western parlour and found the door ajar. Hung-niang lay asleep on the +bed. He woke her, and she cried in a voice of astonishment, “Master +Chang, what are you doing here?” Chang answered, half-truly: “Ts‘ui’s +letter invited me. Tell her I have come.” Hung-niang soon returned, +whispering, “She is coming, she is coming.” Chang was both delighted and +surprised, thinking that his salvation was indeed at hand. + +At last Ts‘ui entered. + +Her dress was sober and correct, and her face was stern. She at once +began to reprimand Chang, saying, “I am grateful for the service which +you rendered to my family. You gave support to my dear mother when she +was at a loss how to save her little boy and young daughter. How came +you to send me a wicked message by the hand of a low maid-servant? In +protecting me from the license of others, you acted nobly. But now that +you wish to make me a partner to your own licentious desires, you are +asking me to accept one wrong in exchange for another. + +“How was I to repel this advance? I would gladly have hidden your +letter, but it would have been immoral to harbour a record of illicit +proposals. Had I shown it to my mother, I should ill have requited the +debt we owe you. Were I to entrust a message of refusal to a servant or +concubine, I feared it might not be truly delivered. I thought of +writing a letter to tell you what I felt; but I was afraid I might not +be able to make you understand. So I sent those trivial verses, that I +might be sure of your coming. I have no cause to be ashamed of an +irregularity which had no other object but the preservation of my +chastity.” + +With these words she vanished. Chang remained for a long while petrified +with astonishment. At last he climbed back over the wall and went home +in despair. + +Several nights after this he was lying asleep near the verandah, when +some one suddenly woke him. He rose with a startled sigh and found that +Hung-niang was there, with bedclothes under her arm and a pillow in her +hand. She shook Chang, saying, “She is coming, she is coming. Why are +you asleep?” Then she arranged the bedclothes and pillow and went away. + +Chang sat up and rubbed his eyes. For a long while he thought he must be +dreaming, but he assumed a respectful attitude and waited. + +Suddenly Hung-niang came back, bringing her mistress with her. Ts‘ui, +this time, was languid and flushed, yielding and wanton in her air, as +though her strength could scarcely support her limbs. Her former +severity had utterly disappeared. + +That night was the eighth of the second decade. The crystal beams of the +sinking moon twinkled secretly across their bed. Chang, in a strange +exaltation, half-believed that a fairy had come to him, and not a child +of mortal men. + +At last the temple bell sounded, dawn glimmered in the sky and +Hung-niang came back to fetch her mistress away. Ts‘ui turned on her +side with a pretty cry, and followed her maid to the door. + +The whole night she had not spoken a word. + +Chang rose when it was half-dark, still thinking that perhaps it had +been a dream. But when it grew light, he saw her powder on his arm and +smelt her perfume in his clothes. A tear she had shed still glittered on +the mattress. + +For more than ten days afterwards he did not see her again. During this +time he began to make a poem called “Meeting a Fairy,” in thirty +couplets. It was not yet finished, when he chanced to meet Hung-niang in +the road. He asked her to take the poem to Ts‘ui. + +After this Ts‘ui let him come to her, and for a month or more he crept +out at dawn and in at dusk, the two of them living together in that +western parlour of which I spoke before. + +Chang often asked her what her mother thought of him. Ts‘ui said, “I +know she would not oppose my will. So why should we not get married at +once?” + +Soon afterwards, Chang had to go to the capital. Before starting, he +tenderly informed her of his departure. She did not reproach him, but +her face showed pitiable distress. On the night before he started, he +was not able to see her. + +After spending a few months in the west, Chang returned to Puchow and +again lodged for several months in the same building as the Ts‘uis. He +made many attempts to see Ying-ying alone, but she would not let him do +so. Remembering that she was fond of calligraphy and verse, he +frequently sent her his own compositions, but she scarcely glanced at +them. + +It was characteristic of her that when any situation was at its acutest +point, she appeared quite unconscious of it. She talked glibly, but +would seldom answer a question. She expected absolute devotion, but +herself gave no encouragement. + +Sometimes when she was in the depth of despair, she would affect all the +while to be quite indifferent. It was rarely possible to know from her +face whether she was pleased or sorry. + +One night Chang came upon her unawares when she was playing on the harp, +with a touch full of passion. But when she saw him coming, she stopped +playing. This incident increased his infatuation. + +Soon afterwards, it became time for him to compete in the Literary +Examinations, and he was obliged once more to set out for the western +capital. + +The evening before his departure, he sat in deep despondency by Ts‘ui’s +side, but did not try again to tell her of his love. Nor had he told her +that he was going away, but she seemed to have guessed it, and with +submissive face and gentle voice, she said to him softly: “Those whom a +man leads astray, he will in the end abandon. It must be so, and I will +not reproach you. You deigned to corrupt me and now you deign to leave +me. That is all. And your vows of ‘faithfulness till death’--they too +are cancelled. There is no need for you to grieve at this parting, but +since I see you so sad and can give you no other comfort--you once +praised my harp-playing; but I was bashful and would not play to you. +Now I am bolder, and if you choose, I will play you a tune.” + +She took her harp and began the prelude to “Rainbow Skirts and Feather +Jackets.”[7] But after a few bars the tune broke off into a wild and +passionate dirge. + +[7] A gay, court tune of the eighth century. + +All who were present caught their breath; but in a moment she stopped +playing, threw down her harp and, weeping bitterly, ran to her mother’s +room. + +She did not come back. + +Next morning Chang left. The following year he failed in his +examinations and could not leave the capital. So, to unburden his heart, +he wrote a letter to Ts‘ui. She answered him somewhat in this fashion: +“I have read your letter and cherish it dearly. It has filled my heart +half with sorrow, half with joy. You sent with it a box of garlands and +five sticks of paste, that I may decorate my head and colour my lips. + +“I thank you for your presents; but there is no one now to care how I +look. Seeing these things only makes me think of you and grieve the +more. + +“You say that you are prospering in your career at the capital, and I am +comforted by that news. But it makes me fear you will never come back +again to one who is so distant and humble. But _that_ is settled +forever, and it is no use talking of it. + +“Since last autumn I have lived in a dazed stupor. Amid the clamour of +the daytime, I have sometimes forced myself to laugh and talk; but alone +at night I have done nothing but weep. Or, if I have fallen asleep my +dreams have always been full of the sorrows of parting. Often I dreamt +that you came to me as you used to do, but always before the moment of +our joy your phantom vanished from my side. Yet, though we are still +bedfellows in my dreams, when I wake and think of it the time when we +were together seems very far off. For since we parted, the old year has +slipped away and a new year has begun.... + +“Ch‘ang-an is a city of pleasure, where there are many snares to catch a +young man’s heart. How can I hope that you will not forget one so +sequestered and insignificant as I? And indeed, if you were to be +faithful, so worthless a creature could never requite you. But our vows +of unending love--those _I_ at least can fulfil. + +“Because you are my cousin, I met you at the feast. Lured by a +maid-servant, I visited you in private. A girl’s heart is not in her own +keeping. You ‘tempted me by your ballads’[8] and I could not bring +myself to ‘throw the shuttle.’[9] + +[8] As Ssŭ-ma tempted Cho Wēn-chün, second century B.C. + +[9] As the neighbour’s daughter did to Hsieh Kun (A.D. fourth century), +in order to repel his advances. + +“Then came the sharing of pillow and mat, the time of perfect loyalty +and deepest tenderness. And I, being young and foolish, thought it would +never end. + +“Now, having ‘seen my Prince,’[10] I cannot love again; nor, branded by +the shame of self-surrender, am I fit to perform ‘the service of towel +and comb’;[11] and of the bitterness of the long celibacy which awaits +me, what need is there to speak? + +[10] Odes I. 1., X. 2. + +[11] = become a bride. + +“The good man uses his heart; and if by chance his gaze has fallen on +the humble and insignificant, till the day of his death, he continues +the affections of his life. The cynic cares nothing for people’s +feelings. He will discard the small to follow the great, look upon a +former mistress merely as an accomplice in sin, and hold that the most +solemn vows are made only to be broken. He will reverse all natural +laws--as though Nature should suddenly let bone dissolve, while cinnabar +resisted the fire. The dew that the wind has shaken from the tree still +looks for kindness from the dust; and such, too, is the sum of _my_ +hopes and fears. + +“As I write, I am shaken by sobs and cannot tell you all that is in my +heart. My darling, I am sending you a jade ring that I used to play with +when I was a child. I want you to wear it at your girdle, that you may +become firm and flawless as this jade, and, in your affections, unbroken +as the circuit of this ring. + +“And with it I am sending a skein of thread and a tea-trough of flecked +bamboo. There is no value in these few things. I send them only to +remind you to keep your heart pure as jade and your affection unending +as this round ring. The bamboo is mottled as if with tears, and the +thread is tangled as the thoughts of those who are in sorrow. By these +tokens I seek no more than that, knowing the truth, you may think kindly +of me for ever. + +“Our hearts are very near, but our bodies are far apart. There is no +time fixed for our meeting; yet a secret longing can unite souls that +are separated by a thousand miles. + +“Protect yourself against the cold spring wind, eat well--look after +yourself in all ways and do not worry too much about your worthless +handmaid, + + TS‘UI YING-YING.” + +Chang showed this letter to his friends and so the story became known to +many who lived at that time. All who heard it were deeply moved; but +Chang, to their disappointment, declared that he meant to break with +Ts‘ui. Yüan Chēn, of Honan, who knew Chang well, asked him why he had +made this decision. + +Chang answered: + +“I have observed that in Nature whatever has perfect beauty is either +itself liable to sudden transformations or else is the cause of them in +others. If Ts‘ui were to marry a rich gentleman and become his pet, she +would forever be changing, as the clouds change to rain, or as the scaly +dragon turns into the horned dragon. I, for one, could never keep pace +with her transformations. + +“Of old, Hsin of the Yin dynasty and Yu of the Chou dynasty ruled over +kingdoms of many thousand chariots, and their strength was very great. +Yet a single woman brought them to ruin, dissipating their hosts and +leading these monarchs to the assassin’s knife. So that to this day they +are a laughing-stock to all the world. I know that my constancy could +not withstand such spells, and that is why I have curbed my passion.” + +At these words all who were present sighed deeply. + +A few years afterwards Ts‘ui married some one else and Chang also found +a wife. Happening once to pass the house where Ts‘ui was living, he +called on her husband and asked to see her, saying he was her cousin. +The husband sent for her, but she would not come. Chang’s vexation +showed itself in his face. Some one told Ts‘ui of this and she secretly +wrote the poem: + + _Since I have grown so lean, my face has lost its beauty. + I have tossed and turned so many times that I am too tired to leave + my bed. + It is not that I mind the others seeing + How ugly I have grown; + It is _you_ who have caused me to lose my beauty, + Yet it is _you_ I am ashamed should see me!_ + + +Chang went away without meeting her, and a few days afterwards, when he +was leaving the town, wrote a poem of final farewell, which said: + + _You cannot say that you are abandoned and deserted; + For you have found some one to love you. + Why do you not convert your broodings over the past + Into kindness to your present husband?_ + +After that they never heard of one another again. Many of Chang’s +contemporaries praised the skill with which he extricated himself from +this entanglement. + + + + +[64] THE PITCHER + +[_A.D. 779-831_] + + + I dreamt I climbed to a high, high plain; + And on the plain I found a deep well. + My throat was dry with climbing and I longed to drink; + And my eyes were eager to look into the cool shaft. + I walked round it; I looked right down; + I saw my image mirrored on the face of the pool. + An earthen pitcher was sinking into the black depths; + There was no rope to pull it to the well-head. + I was strangely troubled lest the pitcher should be lost, + And started wildly running to look for help. + From village to village I scoured that high plain; + The men were gone: the dogs leapt at my throat. + I came back and walked weeping round the well; + Faster and faster the blinding tears flowed-- + Till my own sobbing suddenly woke me up; + My room was silent; no one in the house stirred; + The flame of my candle flickered with a green smoke; + The tears I had shed glittered in the candle-light. + A bell sounded; I knew it was the midnight-chime; + I sat up in bed and tried to arrange my thoughts: + The plain in my dream was the graveyard at Ch‘ang-an, + Those hundred acres of untilled land. + The soil heavy and the mounds heaped high; + And the dead below them laid in deep troughs. + Deep are the troughs, yet sometimes dead men + Find their way to the world above the grave. + And to-night my love who died long ago + Came into my dream as the pitcher sunk in the well. + That was why the tears suddenly streamed from my eyes, + Streamed from my eyes and fell on the collar of my dress. + + + + +PO HSING-CHIEN + +[_A.D. 799-831_] + +[_Brother_ of Po-Chü-i] + + + + +[65] THE STORY OF MISS LI + + +Miss Li, ennobled with the title “Lady of Ch‘ien-kuo,” was once a +prostitute in Ch‘ang-an. The devotion of her conduct was so remarkable +that I have thought it worth while to record her story. In the T‘ien-pao +era[1] there was a certain nobleman, Governor of Ch‘ang-chou and Lord of +Jung-yang, whose name and surname I will omit. He was a man of great +wealth and highly esteemed by all. He had passed his fiftieth year and +had a son who was close on twenty, a boy who in literary talent +outstripped all his companions. His father was proud of him and had +great hopes of his future. “This,” he would say, “is the +‘thousand-league colt’ of our family.” When the time came for the lad to +compete at the Provincial Examinations, his father gave him fine clothes +and a handsome coach with richly caparisoned horses for the journey; and +to provide for his expense at the Capital, he gave him a large sum of +money, saying, “I am sure that your talent is such that you will succeed +at the first attempt; but I am giving you two years’ supply, that you +may pursue your career free from all anxiety.” The young man was also +quite confident and saw himself getting the first place as clearly as he +saw the palm of his own hand. + +[1] A.D. 742-56. + +Starting from P‘i-ling[2] he reached Ch‘ang-an in a few weeks and took a +house in the Pu-chēng quarter. One day he was coming back from a +visit to the Eastern Market. He entered the City by the eastern gate of +P‘ing-k‘ang and was going to visit a friend who lived in the +south-western part of the town. When he reached the Ming-k‘o Bend, he +saw a house of which the gate and courtyard were rather narrow; but the +house itself was stately and stood well back from the road. One of the +double doors was open, and at it stood a lady, attended by her +maid-servant. She was of exquisite, bewitching beauty, such as the world +has seldom produced. + +[2] In Kiang-su, near Ch‘ang-chou. + +When he saw her, the young man unconsciously reined in his horse and +hesitated. Unable to leave the spot, he purposely let his whip fall to +the ground and waited for his servant to pick it up, all the time +staring at the lady in the doorway. She too was staring and met his gaze +with a look that seemed to be an answer to his admiration. But in the +end he went away without daring to speak to her. + +But he could not put the thought of her out of his mind and secretly +begged those of his friends who were most expert in the pleasures of +Ch‘ang-an to tell him what they knew of the girl. He learnt from them +that the house belonged to a low and unprincipled woman named Li. When +he asked what chance he had of winning the daughter, they answered: “The +woman Li is possessed of considerable property, for her previous +dealings have been with wealthy and aristocratic families, from whom she +has received enormous sums. Unless you are willing to spend many +thousand pounds, the daughter will have nothing to do with you.” + +The young man answered: “All I care about is to win her. I do not mind +if she costs a million pounds.” The next day he set out in his best +clothes, with many servants riding behind him, and knocked at the door +of Mrs. Li’s house. Immediately a page-boy drew the bolt. The young man +asked, “Can you tell me whose house this is?” The boy did not answer, +but ran back into the house and called out at the top of his voice, +“Here is the gentleman who dropped his whip the other day!” + +Miss Li was evidently very much pleased. He heard her saying, “Be sure +not to let him go away. I am just going to do my hair and change my +clothes; I will be back in a minute.” The young man, in high spirits, +followed the page-boy into the house. A white-haired old lady was going +upstairs, whom he took to be the girl’s mother. Bowing low, the young +man addressed her as follows: “I am told that you have a vacant plot of +land, which you would be willing to let as building-ground. Is that +true?” The old lady answered, “I am afraid the site is too mean and +confined; it would be quite unsuitable for a gentleman’s house. I should +not like to offer it to you.” She then took him into the guest-room, +which was a very handsome one, and asked him to be seated, saying, “I +have a daughter who has little either of beauty or accomplishment, but +she is fond of seeing strangers. I should like you to meet her.” + +So saying, she called for her daughter, who presently entered. Her eyes +sparkled with such fire, her arms were so dazzling white and there was +in her movements such an exquisite grace that the young man could only +leap to his feet in confusion and did not dare raise his eyes. When +their salutations were over, he began to make a few remarks about the +weather; and realized as he did so that her beauty was of a kind he had +never encountered before. + +They sat down again. Tea was made and wine poured out. The vessels used +were spotlessly clean. He lingered till the day was almost over; the +curfew-drum sounded its four beats. The old lady asked if he lived far +away. He answered untruthfully, “Several leagues beyond the Yen-p‘ing +Gate,” hoping that they would ask him to stay. The old lady said, “The +drum has sounded. You will have to go back at once, unless you mean to +break the law.” + +The young man answered, “I was being so agreeably entertained that I did +not notice how rapidly the day had fled. My house is a long way off and +in the city I have no friends or relations. What am I to do?” Miss Li +then interposed, saying, “If you can forgive the meanness of our poor +home, what harm would there be in your spending the night with us?” He +looked doubtfully at the girl’s mother, but met with no discouragement. + +Calling his servants, he gave them money and told them to buy provisions +for the night. But the girl laughingly stopped him, saying, “That is not +the way guests are entertained. Our humble house will provide for your +wants to-night, if you are willing to partake of our simple fare and +defer your bounty to another occasion.” He tried to refuse, but in the +end she would not allow him to, and they all moved to the western hall. +The curtains, screens, blinds and couches were of dazzling splendour; +while the toilet-boxes, rugs, and pillows were of the utmost elegance. +Candles were lighted and an excellent supper was served. + +After supper the old lady retired, leaving the lovers engaged in the +liveliest conversation, laughing and chattering completely at their +ease. + +After a while the young man said: “I passed your house the other day and +you happened to be standing at the door. And after that, I could think +of nothing but you; whether I lay down to rest or sat down to eat, I +could not stop thinking of you.” She laughed and answered: “It was just +the same with me.” He said: “You must know that I did not come to-day +simply to look for building-land. I came hoping that you would fulfil +my lifelong desire; but I was not sure how you would welcome me. What--” + +He had not finished speaking when the old woman came back and asked what +they were saying. When they told her, she laughed and said, “Has not +Mencius written that ‘the relationship between men and women is the +ground-work of society’? When lovers are agreed, not even the mandate of +a parent will deter them. But my daughter is of humble birth. Are you +sure that she is fit to ‘present pillow and mat’ to a great man?” + +He came down from the daïs and, bowing low, begged that she would accept +him as her slave. Henceforward the old lady regarded him as her +son-in-law; they drank heavily together and finally parted. Next morning +he had all his boxes and bags brought round to Mrs. Li’s house and +settled there permanently. Henceforward he shut himself up with his +mistress and none of his friends ever heard of him. He consorted only +with actors and dancers and low people of that kind, passing the time in +wild sports and wanton feasting. When his money was all spent, he sold +his horses and men-servants. In about a year his money, property, +servants and horses were all gone. + +For some time the old lady’s manner towards him had been growing +gradually colder, but his mistress remained as devoted as ever. One day +she said to him, “We have been together a year, but I am still not with +child. They say that the spirit of the Bamboo Grove answers a woman’s +prayers as surely as an echo. Let us go to his temple and offer a +libation.” + +The young man, not suspecting any plot, was delighted to take her to the +temple, and having pawned his coat to buy sweet wine for the libation, +he went with her and performed the ceremony of prayer. They stayed one +night at the temple and came back next day. Whipping up their donkey, +they soon arrived at the north gate of the P‘ing-k‘ang quarter. At this +point his mistress turned to him and said, “My aunt’s house is in a +turning just near here. How would it be if we were to go there and rest +for a little?” + +He drove on as she directed him, and they had not gone more than a +hundred paces, when he saw the entrance to a spacious carriage-drive. A +servant who belonged to the place came out and stopped the cart, saying, +“This is the entrance.” The young man got down and was met by some one +who came out and asked who they were. When told that it was Miss Li, he +went back and announced her. Presently a married lady came out who +seemed to be about forty. She greeted him, saying, “Has my niece +arrived?” Miss Li then got out of the cart and her aunt said to her: +“Why have you not been to see me for so long?” At which they looked at +one another and laughed. Then Miss Li introduced him to her aunt and +when that was over they all went into a side garden near the Western +Halberd Gate. In the middle of the garden was a pagoda, and round it +grew bamboos and trees of every variety, while ponds and summer-houses +added to its air of seclusion. He asked Miss Li if this were her aunt’s +estate; she laughed, but did not answer and spoke of something else. + +Tea of excellent quality was served; but when they had been drinking it +for a little while, a messenger came galloping up on a huge Fergana +horse, saying that Miss Li’s mother had suddenly been taken very ill and +had already lost consciousness, so that they had better come back as +quickly as possible. + +Miss Li said to her aunt: “I am very much upset. I think I had better +take the horse and ride on ahead. Then I will send it back, and you and +my husband can come along later.” The young man was anxious to go with +her, but the aunt and her servants engaged him in conversation, +flourishing their hands in front of him and preventing him from leaving +the garden. The aunt said to him: “No doubt my sister is dead by this +time. You and I ought to discuss together what can be done to help with +the expenses of the burial. What is the use of running off like that? +Stay here and help me to make a plan for the funeral and mourning +ceremonies.” + +It grew late; but the messenger had not returned. The aunt said: “I am +surprised he has not come back with the horse. You had better go there +on foot as quickly as possible and see what has happened. I will come on +later.” + +The young man set out on foot for Mrs. Li’s house. When he got there he +found the gate firmly bolted, locked and sealed. Astounded, he +questioned the neighbors, who told him that the house had only been let +to Mrs. Li and that, the lease having expired, the landlord had now +resumed possession. The old lady, they said, had gone to live elsewhere. +They did not know her new address. + +At first he thought of hurrying back to Hsüan-yang and questioning the +aunt; but he found it was too late for him to get there. So he pawned +some of his clothes, and, with the proceeds, bought himself supper and +hired a bed. But he was too angry and distressed to sleep, and did not +once close his eyes from dusk till dawn. Early in the morning he dragged +himself away and went to the “aunt’s house.” He knocked on the door +repeatedly, but it was breakfast-time and no one answered. At last, when +he had shouted several times at the top of his voice, a footman walked +majestically to the door. The young man nervously mentioned the aunt’s +name and asked whether she was at home. The footman replied: “No one of +that name here.” “But she lived here yesterday evening,” the young man +protested; “why are you trying to deceive me? If she does not live here, +who _does_ the house belong to?” The footman answered: “This is the +residence of His Excellency Mr. Ts‘ui. I believe that yesterday some +persons hired a corner of the grounds. I understand that they wished to +entertain a cousin who was coming from a distance. But they were gone +before nightfall.” + +The young man, perplexed and puzzled to the point of madness, was +absolutely at a loss what to do next. The best he could think of was to +go to the quarters in Pu-chēng, where he had installed himself when +he first arrived at Ch‘ang-an. The landlord was sympathetic and offered +to feed him. But the young man was too much upset to eat, and having +fasted for three days fell seriously ill. He rapidly grew worse, and the +landlord, fearing he would not recover, had him moved straight to the +undertaker’s shop. In a short time the whole of the undertaker’s staff +was collected round him, offering sympathy and bringing him food. +Gradually he got better and was able to walk with a stick. + +The undertaker now hired him by the day to hold up the curtains of fine +cloth, by which he earned just enough to support himself. In a few +months he grew quite strong again, but whenever he heard the mourners’ +doleful songs, in which they regretted that they could not change places +with the corpse, burst into violent fits of sobbing and shed streams of +tears over which they lost all control, then he used to go home and +imitate their performance. + +Being a man of intelligence, he very soon mastered the art and finally +became the most expert mourner in Ch‘ang-an. It happened that there were +two undertakers at this time between whom there was a great rivalry. The +undertaker of the east turned out magnificent hearses and biers, and in +this respect his superiority could not be contested. But the mourners he +provided were somewhat inferior. Hearing of our young man’s skill, he +offered him a large sum for his services. The eastern undertaker’s +supporters, who were familiar with the repertoire of his company, +secretly taught the young man several fresh tunes and showed him how to +fit the words to them. The lessons went on for several weeks, without +any one being allowed to know of it. At the end of that time the two +undertakers agreed to hold a competitive exhibition of their wares in +T‘ien-mēn Street. The loser was to forfeit 50,000 cash to cover the +cost of the refreshments provided. Before the exhibition an agreement +was drawn up and duly signed by witnesses. + +A crowd of several thousand people collected to watch the competition. +The mayor of the quarter got wind of the proceedings and told the chief +of police. The chief of police told the governor of the city. Very soon +all the gentlemen of Ch‘ang-an were hurrying to the spot and every house +in the town was empty. The exhibition lasted from dawn till midday. +Coaches, hearses and all kinds of funeral trappings were successively +displayed, but the undertaker of the west could establish no +superiority. Filled with shame, he set up a platform in the south corner +of the square. Presently a man with a long beard came forward, carrying +a hand-bell and attended by several assistants. He wagged his beard, +raised his eyebrows, folded his arms across his chest and bowed. Then, +mounting the platform, he sang the “Dirge of the White Horse.” When it +was over, confident of an easy victory, he glared round him, as if to +imply that his opponents had all vanished. He was applauded on every +side and was himself convinced that his talents were a unique product of +the age and could not possibly be called into question. + +After a while the undertaker of the east put together some benches in +the north corner of the square, and a young man in a black hat came +forward, attended by five assistants and carrying a bunch of +hearse-plumes in his hand. It was the young man of our story. + +He adjusted his clothes, looked timidly up and down, and then cleared +his throat and began his tune with an air of great diffidence. + +He sang the dirge “Dew on the Garlic.”[3] His voice rose so shrill and +clear that “its echoes shook the forest trees.” Before he had finished +the first verse, all who heard were sobbing and hiding their tears. + +[3] See p. 58, “170 Chinese Poems,” Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + +When the performance was over, every one made fun of the western +undertaker, and he was so much put out that he immediately removed his +exhibits and retired from the contest. The audience was amazed by the +collapse of the western undertaker and could not imagine where his rival +had procured so remarkable a singer. + +It happened that the Emperor had recently issued an order commanding the +governors of outside provinces to confer with him at the capital at +least once a year. + +At this time the young man’s father, who was governor of Ch‘ang-chou, +had recently arrived at the capital to make his report. Hearing of the +competition, he and some of his colleagues discarded their official +robes and insignia, and slipped away to join the crowd. With them was an +old servant, who was the husband of the young man’s foster-nurse. +Recognizing his foster-son’s way of moving and speaking, he was on the +point of accosting him, but not daring to do so, he stood weeping +silently. The father asked him why he was crying, and the servant +replied, “Sir, the young man who is singing reminds me of your lost +son.” The father answered: “My son became the prey of robbers, because I +gave him too much money. This cannot be he.” So saying, he also began to +weep and, leaving the crowd, returned to his lodging. + +But the old servant went about among the members of the troupe, asking +who it was that had just sung with such skill. They all told him it was +the son of such a one; and when he asked the young man’s own name, that +too was unfamiliar, for he was living under an _alias_. The old servant +was so much puzzled that he determined to put the matter to the test for +himself. But when the young man saw his old friend walking towards him, +he winced, turned away his face, and tried to hide in the crowd. The old +man followed him and catching his sleeve, said: “Surely it is you!” Then +they embraced and wept. Presently they went back together to his +father’s lodging. But his father abused him, saying: “Your conduct has +disgraced the family. How dare you show your face again?” So saying, he +took him out of the house and led him to the ground between the +Ch‘ü-chiang Pond and the Apricot Gardens. Here he stripped him naked and +thrashed him with his horse-whip, till the young man succumbed to the +pain and collapsed. The father then left him and went away. + +But the young man’s singing-master had told some of his friends to +watch what happened to him. When they saw him stretched inanimate on the +ground, they came back and told the other members of the troupe. + +The news occasioned universal lamentation, and two men were despatched +with a reed mat to cover up the body. When they got there they found his +heart still warm, and when they had held him in an upright posture for +some time, his breathing recommenced. So they carried him home between +them and administered liquid food through a reed-pipe. Next morning, he +recovered consciousness; but after several months he was still unable to +move his hands and feet. Moreover, the sores left by his thrashing +festered in so disgusting a manner that his friends found him too +troublesome, and one night deposited him in the middle of the road. +However, the passers-by, harrowed by his condition, never failed to +throw him scraps of food. + +So copious was his diet that in three months he recovered sufficiently +to hobble with a stick. Clad in a linen coat,--which was knotted +together in a hundred places, so that it looked as tattered as a quail’s +tail,--and carrying a broken saucer in his hand, he now went about the +idle quarters of the town, earning his living as a professional beggar. + +Autumn had now turned to winter. He spent his nights in public +lavatories and his days haunting the markets and booths. + +One day when it was snowing hard, hunger and cold had driven him into +the streets. His beggar’s cry was full of woe and all who heard it were +heart-rent. But the snow was so heavy that hardly a house had its outer +door open, and the streets were empty. + +When he reached the eastern gate of An-i, about the seventh or eighth +turning north of the Hsün-li Wall, there was a house with the +double-doors half open. + +It was the house where Miss Li was then living, but the young man did +not know. + +He stood before the door, wailing loud and long. + +Hunger and cold had given such a piteous accent to his cry that none +could have listened unmoved. + +Miss Li heard it from her room and at once said to her servant, “That is +so-and-so. I know his voice.” She flew to the door and was horrified to +see her old lover standing before her so emaciated by hunger and +disfigured by sores that he seemed scarcely human. “Can it be you?” she +said. But the young man was so overcome by bewilderment and excitement +that he could not speak, but only moved his lips noiselessly. + +She threw her arms round his neck, then wrapped him in her own +embroidered jacket and led him to the parlour. Here, with quavering +voice, she reproached herself, saying, “It is my doing that you have +been brought to this pass.” And with these words she swooned. + +Her mother came running up in great excitement, asking who had arrived. +Miss Li, recovering herself, said who it was. The old woman cried out in +rage: “Send him away! What did you bring him in here for?” + +But Miss Li looked up at her defiantly and said: “Not so! This is the +son of a noble house. Once he rode in grand coaches and wore golden +trappings on his coat. But when he came to our house, he soon lost all +he had; and then we plotted together and left him destitute. Our conduct +has indeed been inhuman! We have ruined his career and robbed him even +of his place in the category of human relationships. For the love of +father and son is implanted by Heaven; yet we have hardened his +father’s heart, so that he beat him with a stick and left him on the +ground. + +“Every one in the land knows that it is I who have reduced him to his +present plight. The Court is full of his kinsmen. Some day one of them +will come into power. Then an inquiry will be set afoot, and disaster +will overtake us. And since we have flouted Heaven and defied the laws +of humanity, neither spirits nor divinities will be on our side. Let us +not wantonly incur a further retribution! + +“I have lived as your daughter for twenty years. Reckoning what I have +cost you in that time, I find it must be close on a thousand pieces of +gold. You are now aged sixty, so that by the price of twenty more years’ +food and clothing, I can buy my freedom. I intend to live separately +with this young man. We will not go far away; I shall see to it that we +are near enough to pay our respects to you both morning and evening.” + +The “mother” saw that she was not to be gainsaid and fell in with the +arrangement. When she had paid her ransom, Miss Li had a hundred pieces +of gold left over; and with them she hired a vacant room, five doors +away. Here she gave the young man a bath, changed his clothes, fed him +with hot soup to relax his stomach, and later on fattened him up with +cheese and milk. + +In a few weeks she began to place before him all the choicest delicacies +of land and sea; and she clothed him with cap, shoes and stockings of +the finest quality. In a short time he began gradually to put on flesh, +and by the end of the year, he had entirely recovered his former health. + +One day Miss Li said to him: “Now your limbs are stout again and your +will strong! Sometimes, when deeply pondering in silent sorrow, I wonder +to myself how much you remember of your old literary studies?” He +thought and answered: “Of ten parts I remember two or three.” + +Miss Li then ordered the carriage to be got ready and the young man +followed her on horseback. When they reached the classical bookshop at +the side-gate south of the Flag tower, she made him choose all the books +he wanted, till she had laid out a hundred pieces of gold. Then she +packed them in the cart and drove home. She now made him dismiss all +other thoughts from his mind and apply himself only to study. All the +evening he toiled at his books, with Miss Li at his side, and they did +not retire till midnight. If ever she found that he was too tired to +work, she made him lay down his classics and write a poem or ode. + +In two years he had thoroughly mastered his subjects and was admired by +all the scholars of the realm. He said to Miss Li, “_Now_, surely, I am +ready for the examiners!” but she would not let him compete and made him +revise all he had learnt, to prepare for the “hundredth battle.” At the +end of the third year she said, “Now you may go.” He went in for the +examination and passed at the first attempt. His reputation spread +rapidly through the examination rooms and even older men, when they saw +his compositions, were filled with admiration and respect, and sought +his friendship. + +But Miss Li would not let him make friends with them, saying, “Wait a +little longer! Nowadays when a bachelor of arts has passed his +examination, he thinks himself fit to hold the most advantageous posts +at Court and to win a universal reputation. But your unfortunate conduct +and disreputable past put you at a disadvantage beside your +fellow-scholars. You must ‘grind, temper and sharpen’ your attainments, +that you may secure a second victory. Then you will be able to match +yourself against famous scholars and contend with the illustrious.” + +The young man accordingly increased his efforts and enhanced his value. +That year it happened that the Emperor had decreed a special examination +for the selection of candidates of unusual merit from all parts of the +Empire. The young man competed, and came out top in the “censorial +essay.” He was offered the post of Army Inspector at Ch‘ēng-tu Fu. +The officers who were to escort him were all previous friends. + +When he was about to take up his post, Miss Li said to him, “Now that +you are restored to your proper station in life, I will not be a burden +to you. Let me go back and look after the old lady till she dies. You +must ally yourself with some lady of noble lineage, who will be worthy +to carry the sacrificial dishes in your Ancestral Hall. Do not injure +your prospects by an unequal union. Good-bye, for now I must leave you.” + +The young man burst into tears and threatened to kill himself if she +left him, but she obstinately refused to go with him. He begged her +passionately not to desert him, and she at last consented to go with him +across the river as far as Chien-mēn.[4] “There,” she said, “you must +part with me.” The young man consented and in a few weeks they reached +Chien-mēn. Before he had started out again, a proclamation arrived +announcing that the young man’s father, who had been Governor of +Ch‘ang-chou, had been appointed Governor of Ch‘ēng-tu and Intendant +of the Chien-nan Circuit. Next morning the father arrived, and the young +man sent in his card and waited upon him at the posting-station. His +father did not recognize him, but the card bore the names of the young +man’s father and grandfather, with their ranks and titles. When he read +these, he was astounded, and bidding his son mount the steps he caressed +him and wept. After a while he said: “Now we two are father and son once +more,” and bade him tell his story. When he heard of the young man’s +adventures, he was amazed. Presently he asked: “And where is Miss Li?” +He replied: “She came with me as far as here, but now she is going back +again.” + +[4] The “Sword-gate”: commanding the pass which leads into Szechuan from +the north. + +“I cannot allow it,” the father said. Next day he ordered a carriage for +his son and sent him on to report himself at Ch‘ēng-tu; but he +detained Miss Li at Chien-mēn, found her a suitable lodging and +ordered a match-maker to perform the initial ceremonies for uniting the +two families and to accomplish the six rites of welcome. The young man +came back from Ch‘ēng-tu and they were duly married. In the years +that followed their marriage, Miss Li showed herself a devoted wife and +competent housekeeper, and was beloved by all her relations. + +Some years later both the young man’s parents died, and in his mourning +observances he showed unusual piety. As a mark of divine favour, magic +toadstools grew on the roof of his mourning-hut,[5] each stem bearing +three plants. The report of his virtue reached even the Emperor’s ears. +Moreover a number of white swallows nested in the beams of his roof, an +omen which so impressed the Emperor that he raised his rank immediately. + +[5] See “Book or Rites,” xxxii, 3. On returning from his father’s burial +a son must not enter the house; he should live in an “out-house,” +mourning for his father’s absence. + +When the three years of mourning were over, he was successively +promoted to various distinguished posts and in the course of ten years +was Governor of several provinces. Miss Li was given the fief of +Chien-kuo, with the title “The Lady of Chien-kuo.” + +He had four sons who all held high rank. Even the least successful of +them became Governor of T‘ai-yüan, and his brothers all married into +great families, so that his good fortune both in public and private life +was without parallel. + +How strange that we should find in the conduct of a prostitute a degree +of constancy rarely equalled even by the heroines of history! Surely the +story is one which cannot but provoke a sigh! + +My great-uncle was Governor of Chin-chou; subsequently he joined the +Ministry of Finance and became Inspector of Waterways, and finally +Inspector of Roads. In all these three offices he had Miss Li’s husband +as his colleague, so that her story was well known to him in every +particular. During the Chēng-yüan period[6] I was sitting one day +with Li Kung-tso[7] of Lung-hai; we fell to talking of wives who had +distinguished themselves by remarkable conduct. I told him the story of +Miss Li. He listened with rapt attention, and when it was over, asked me +to write it down for him. So I took up my brush, wetted the hairs and +made this rough outline of the story. + +[6] A.D. 785-805. + +[7] A writer. + +_[Dated] autumn, eighth month of the year Yi-hai, (A.D. +795), written by Po-Hsing-chien of T‘ai-yüan._ + + + + +WANG CHIEN + +[_c. A.D. 830_] + + + + +[66] HEARING THAT HIS FRIEND WAS COMING BACK FROM THE WAR + + + In old days those who went to fight + In three years had one year’s leave. + But in _this_ war the soldiers are never changed; + They must go on fighting till they die on the battle-field. + I thought of you, so weak and indolent, + Hopelessly trying to learn to march and drill. + That a young man should ever come home again + Seemed about as likely as that the sky should fall. + Since I got the news that you were coming back, + Twice I have mounted to the high hall of your home. + I found your brother mending your horse’s stall; + I found your mother sewing your new clothes. + I am half afraid; perhaps it is not true; + Yet I never weary of watching for you on the road. + Each day I go out at the City Gate + With a flask of wine, lest you should come thirsty. + Oh that I could shrink the surface of the World, + So that suddenly I might find you standing at my side. + + + + +[67] THE SOUTH + + + In the southern land many birds sing; + Of towns and cities half are unwalled. + The country markets are thronged by wild tribes; + The mountain-villages bear river-names. + Poisonous mists rise from the damp sands; + Strange fires gleam through the night-rain. + And none passes but the lonely fisher of pearls. + Year by year on his way to the South Sea. + + + + +OU-YANG HSIU + +[_b. 1007; d. 1072_] + + + + +[68] AUTUMN + + +Master Ou-yang was reading his books[1] at night when he heard a strange +sound coming from the north-west. He paused and listened intently, +saying to himself: “How strange, how strange!” First there was a +pattering and rustling; but suddenly this broke into a great churning +and crashing, like the noise of waves that wake the traveller at night, +when wind and rain suddenly come; and where they lash the ship, there is +a jangling and clanging as of metal against metal. + +[1] The poem was written in 1052, when Ou-yang was finishing his “New +History of the T‘ang Dynasty.” + +Or again, like the sound of soldiers going to battle, who march swiftly +with their gags[2] between their teeth, when the captain’s voice cannot +be heard, but only the tramp of horses and men moving. + +[2] Pieces of wood put in their mouths to prevent their talking. + +I called to my boy, bidding him go out and see what noise this could be. +The boy said: “The moon and stars are shining; the Milky Way glitters in +the sky. Nowhere is there any noise of men. The noise must be in the +trees.” + +“I-hsi! alas!” I said, “this must be the sound of Autumn. Oh, why has +Autumn come? For as to Autumn’s form, her colours are mournful and pale. +Mists scatter and clouds withdraw. Her aspect is clean and bright. The +sky is high and the sunlight clear as crystal. Her breath is shivering +and raw, pricking men’s skin and bones; her thoughts are desolate, +bringing emptiness and silence to the rivers and hills. And hence it is +that her whisperings are sorrowful and cold, but her shouts are wild and +angry. Pleasant grasses grew soft and green, vying in rankness. Fair +trees knit their shade and gave delight. Autumn swept the grasses and +their colour changed; she met the trees, and their boughs were stripped. +And because Autumn’s being is compounded of sternness, therefore it was +that they withered and perished, fell and decayed. For Autumn is an +executioner,[3] and her hour is darkness. She is a warrior, and her +element is metal. Therefore she is called ‘the doom-spirit of heaven and +earth’;[4] for her thoughts are bent on stern destruction. + +[3] Executions took place in autumn. See _Chou Li_, Book xxxiv (Biot’s +translation, tom. ii, p. 286). + +[4] “Book of Rites,” I. 656 (Couvreur’s edition). + +“In Spring, growth; in Autumn, fruit: that is Heaven’s plan. Therefore +in music the note _shang_ is the symbol of the West and _I-tsē_ is +the pitch-pipe of the seventh month. For _shang_ means ‘_to strike_’; +when things grow old they are stricken by grief. And _I_ means ‘_to +slay_’; things that have passed their prime must needs be slain. Plants +and trees have no feelings; when their time comes they are blown down. +But man moves and lives and is of creatures most divine. A hundred +griefs assail his heart, ten thousand tasks wear out his limbs, and each +inward stirring shakes the atoms of his soul. And all the more, when he +thinks of things that his strength cannot achieve or grieves at things +his mind cannot understand, is it strange that cheeks that were steeped +in red should grow withered as an old stick, and hair that was black as +ebony should turn as spangled as a starry sky? How should ought else but +what is fashioned of brass or stone strive to outlast the splendour of a +tree? Who but man himself is the slayer of his youth? Why was I angered +at Autumn’s voice?” + +The boy made no answer: he was sleeping with lowered head. I could hear +nothing but the insects chirping shrilly on every side as though they +sought to join in my lamentation. + + + + +APPENDIX + + +An essay on Po Chü-i, whose poems occupy most of this book, will be +found in “170 Chinese Poems.” The fullest account of Li Po’s life (with +translations) is given in a paper read by me to the China Society, and +published in the _Asiatic Review_, July, 1919. Notices of Ch‘ü Yüan, +Wang Wei, Yüan Chēn, Wang Chien and Ou-yang Hsiu will be found in +Giles’s “Biographical Dictionary.” To Wang Chieh Po Chü-i addressed +several poems. + +Of the 68 pieces in this book, 55 are now translated for the first time. +Of the eight poems by Li Po, all but Number 6 have been translated +before, some of them by several hands. + +Among the poems by Po Chü-i, three (Nos. 11, 12, and 44) have been +translated by Woitsch[1] and one, (No. 43), very incorrectly, by +Pfizmaier. Another (No. 21) was translated into rhymed verse by Prof. +Giles in “Adversaria Sinica” (1914), p. 323. Ou-yang Hsiu’s “Autumn” was +translated by Giles (with great freedom in many places) in his “Chinese +Literature,” p. 215. + +[1] Aus den Gedichten Po Chü-i’s. Peking, 1908. + +[Transcriber’s Note: The following apparent misprints have been +corrected for this electronic edition: +Patient carrier of towel and comb,[2] + --as printed, cited footnote 1, which is inapplicable and not on page + +“Because you are my cousin, +“Then came the sharing of pillow and mat, +“Now, having ‘seen my Prince,’ + --as printed, all were missing opening “ + +Footnote 3: See p. 58, “170 Chinese Poems,” Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + --as printed, See p, 58, + +with bedclothes under her arm + --as printed, bed-clothes] + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's More Translations from the Chinese, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE *** + +***** This file should be named 16500-0.txt or 16500-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/0/16500/ + +Produced by David Starner, Jonathan Niehof and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/16500-0.zip b/16500-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f44bf7c --- /dev/null +++ b/16500-0.zip diff --git a/16500-8.txt b/16500-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..465d6d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/16500-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3730 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of More Translations from the Chinese, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: More Translations from the Chinese + +Author: Various + +Translator: Arthur Waley + +Release Date: August 10, 2005 [EBook #16500] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Jonathan Niehof and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: Accented Chinese words have been represented with +the appropriate Pinyin tone number. The macron is marked as tone 1. +U-with-breve is rendered without the breve, as it carries no information. +Japanese long vowels are represented with circumflexes instead of macrons. +UTF-8 and HTML versions of this text, with the original accents, are also +available.] + +_Translations by Arthur Waley_ +I A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY CHINESE POEMS +II MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE + + + MORE TRANSLATIONS + FROM THE CHINESE + BY + ARTHUR WALEY + + NEW YORK + ALFRED A KNOPF + MCMXIX + + +COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY +ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. + +PRINTED BY THE VAIL-BALLOU CO., BINGHAMTON, N.Y. +ON WARREN'S INDIA TINT OLD STYLE PAPER +BOUND BY THE PLIMPTON PRESS, NORWOOD, MASS + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE +INTRODUCTION 5 + +CH` YAN:-- + The Great Summons 13 + +WANG WEI:-- + Prose Letter 23 + +LI PO:-- + Drinking Alone by Moonlight 27 + In the Mountains on a Summer Day 29 + Waking from Drunkenness on a Spring Day 30 + Self-Abandonment 31 + To Tan Ch`iu 32 + Clearing at Dawn 33 + +PO CH-I:-- + Life of Po Ch-i 35 + After Passing the Examination 37 + Escorting Candidates to the Examination Hall 38 + In Early Summer Lodging in a Temple to Enjoy + the Moonlight 39 + Sick Leave 40 + Watching the Reapers 41 + Going Alone to Spend a Night at the Hsien-Yu + Temple 42 + Planting Bamboos 43 + To Li Chien 44 + At the End of Spring 45 + The Poem on the Wall 46 + Chu Ch`en1 Village 47 + Fishing in the Wei River 50 + Lazy Man's Song 51 + Illness and Idleness 52 + Winter Night 53 + The Chrysanthemums in the Eastern Garden 54 + Poems in Depression, at Wei Village 55 + To His Brother Hsing-Chien, Who was in Tung-Ch`uan 56 + Starting Early from the Ch`u-Ch`eng1 Inn 57 + Rain 58 + The Beginning of Summer 59 + Visiting the Hsi-Lin Temple 60 + Prose Letter to Yan Chen1 61 + Hearing the Early Oriole 65 + Dreaming that I Went with Lu and Yu to Visit + Yan Chen1 66 + The Fifteenth Volume 67 + Invitation to Hsiao Ch-Shih 68 + To Li Chien 69 + The Spring River 70 + After Collecting the Autumn Taxes 71 + Lodging with the Old Man of the Stream 72 + To His Brother Hsing-Chien 73 + The Pine-Trees in the Courtyard 74 + Sleeping on Horseback 76 + Parting from the Winter Stove 77 + Good-Bye to the People of Hangchow 78 + Written when Governor of Soochow 79 + Getting Up Early on a Spring Morning 80 + Losing a Slave-Girl 81 + The Grand Houses at Lo-Yang 82 + The Cranes 83 + On His Baldness 84 + Thinking of the Past 85 + A Mad Poem Addressed to My Nephews and Nieces 87 + Old Age 88 + To a Talkative Guest 89 + To Liu Y-Hsi 90 + My Servant Wakes Me 91 + Since I Lay Ill 92 + Song of Past Feelings 93 + Illness 96 + Resignation 97 + +YAN CHEN1:-- + The Story of Ts`ui Ying-Ying 101 + The Pitcher 114 + +PO HSING-CHIEN:-- + The Story of Miss Li 117 + +WANG CHIEN:-- + Hearing that His Friend was Coming Back from + the War 137 + The South 138 + +OU-YANG HSIU:-- + Autumn 141 + +APPENDIX 144 + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +This book is not intended to be representative of Chinese literature as +a whole. I have chosen and arranged chronologically various pieces which +interested me and which it seemed possible to translate adequately. + +An account of the history and technique of Chinese poetry will be found +in the introduction to my last book.[1] Learned reviewers must not +suppose that I have failed to appreciate the poets whom I do not +translate. Nor can they complain that the more famous of these poets are +inaccessible to European readers; about a hundred of Li Po's poems have +been translated, and thirty or forty of Tu Fu's. I have, as before, +given half my space to Po Ch-i, of whose poems I had selected for +translation a much larger number than I have succeeded in rendering. I +will give literal versions of two rejected ones: + +[1] "170 Chinese Poems," New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + + +EVENING + +[_A.D. 835_] + + _Water's colour at-dusk still white; + Sunsets glow in-the-dark gradually nil. + Windy lotus shakes [like] broken fan; + Wave-moon stirs [like] string [of] jewels. + Crickets chirping answer one another; + Mandarin-ducks sleep, not alone. + Little servant repeatedly announces night; + Returning steps still hesitate._ + + +IN EARLY SPRING ALONE CLIMBING THE T`IEN-KUNG PAGODA + +[_A.D. 389_] + + _T`ien-kung sun warm, pagoda door open; + Alone climbing, greet Spring, drink one cup. + Without limit excursion-people afar-off wonder at me; + What cause most old most first arrived!_ + +While many of the pieces in "170 Chinese Poems" aimed at literary form +in English, others did no more than give the sense of the Chinese in +almost as crude a way as the two examples above. It was probably because +of this inconsistency that no reviewer treated the book as an experiment +in English unrhymed verse, though this was the aspect of it which most +interested the writer. + +In the present work I have aimed more consistently at poetic form, but +have included on account of their biographical interest two or three +rather unsuccessful versions of late poems by Po Ch-i. + +For leave to reprint I am indebted to the editors of the _English +Review_, _Nation_, _New Statesman_, _Bulletin of School of Oriental +Studies_, and _Reconstruction_. + + + + +CH`U YAN + +[_Fourth Century B.C._] + + + + +[1] THE GREAT SUMMONS + + +_When Ch` Yan had been exiled from the Court for nine years, he became +so despondent that he feared his soul would part from his body and he +would die. It was then that he made the poem called "The Great Summons," +calling upon his soul not to leave him._ + + Green Spring receiveth + The vacant earth; + The white sun shineth; + Spring wind provoketh + To burst and burgeon + Each sprout and flower. + In those dark caves where Winter lurketh + Hide not, my Soul! + O Soul come back again! O, do not stray! + + O Soul come back again and go not east or west, or north or south! + For to the East a mighty water drowneth Earth's other shore; + Tossed on its waves and heaving with its tides + The hornless Dragon of the Ocean rideth: + Clouds gather low and fogs enfold the sea + And gleaming ice drifts past. + O Soul go not to the East, + To the silent Valley of Sunrise! + + O Soul go not to the South + Where mile on mile the earth is burnt away + And poisonous serpents slither through the flames; + Where on precipitous paths or in deep woods + Tigers and leopards prowl, + And water-scorpions wait; + Where the king-python rears his giant head. + O Soul, go not to the South + Where the three-footed tortoise spits disease! + + O Soul go not to the West + Where level wastes of sand stretch on and on; + And demons rage, swine-headed, hairy-skinned, + With bulging eyes; + Who in wild laughter gnash projecting fangs. + O Soul go not to the West + Where many perils wait! + + O Soul go not to the North, + To the Lame Dragon's frozen peaks; + Where trees and grasses dare not grow; + Where a river runs too wide to cross + And too deep to plumb, + And the sky is white with snow + And the cold cuts and kills. + O Soul seek not to fill + The treacherous voids of the north! + + O Soul come back to idleness and peace. + In quietude enjoy + The lands of Ching and Ch`u. + There work your will and follow your desire + Till sorrow is forgot, + And carelessness shall bring you length of days. + O Soul come back to joys beyond all telling! + + Where thirty cubits high at harvest-time + The corn is stacked; + Where pies are cooked of millet and bearded-maize. + Guests watch the steaming bowls + And sniff the pungency of peppered herbs. + The cunning cook adds slices of bird-flesh, + Pigeon and yellow-heron and black-crane. + They taste the badger-stew. + O Soul come back to feed on foods you love! + + Next are brought + Fresh turtle, and sweet chicken cooked in cheese + Pressed by the men of Ch`u. + And pickled sucking-pig + And flesh of whelps floating in liver-sauce + With salad of minced radishes in brine; + All served with that hot spice of southernwood + The land of Wu supplies. + O Soul come back to choose the meats you love! + + Roasted daw, steamed widgeon and grilled quail-- + On every fowl they fare. + Boiled perch and sparrow broth,--in each preserved + The separate flavour that is most its own. + O Soul come back to where such dainties wait! + + The four strong liquors are warming at the fire + So that they grate not on the drinker's throat. + How fragrant rise their fumes, how cool their taste! + Such drink is not for louts or serving-men! + And wise distillers from the land of Wu + Blend unfermented spirit with white yeast + And brew the _li_ of Ch`u. + O Soul come back and let your yearnings cease! + + Reed-organs from the lands of T`ai and Ch`in + And Wei and Cheng1 + Gladden the feasters, and old songs are sung: + The "Rider's Song" that once + Fu-hsi, the ancient monarch, made; + And the harp-songs of Ch`u. + Then after prelude from the flutes of Chao + The ballad-singer's voice rises alone. + O Soul come back to the hollow mulberry-tree![1] + + Eight and eight the dancers sway, + Weaving their steps to the poet's voice + Who speaks his odes and rhapsodies; + They tap their bells and beat their chimes + Rigidly, lest harp and flute + Should mar the measure. + Then rival singers of the Four Domains + Compete in melody, till not a tune + Is left unsung that human voice could sing. + O Soul come back and listen to their songs! + + Then women enter whose red lips and dazzling teeth + Seduce the eye; + But meek and virtuous, trained in every art; + Fit sharers of play-time, + So soft their flesh and delicate their bones. + O Soul come back and let them ease your woe! + + Then enter other ladies with laughing lips + And sidelong glances under moth-eye brows; + Whose cheeks are fresh and red; + Ladies both great of heart and long of limb, + Whose beauty by sobriety is matched. + Well-padded cheeks and ears with curving rim, + High-arching eyebrows, as with compass drawn, + Great hearts and loving gestures--all are there; + Small waists and necks as slender as the clasp + Of courtiers' brooches. + O Soul come back to those whose tenderness + Drives angry thoughts away! + + Last enter those + Whose every action is contrived to please; + Black-painted eyebrows and white-powdered cheeks. + They reek with scent; with their long sleeves they brush + The faces of the feasters whom they pass, + Or pluck the coats of those who will not stay. + O Soul come back to pleasures of the night! + + A summer-house with spacious rooms + And a high hall with beams stained red; + A little closet in the southern wing + Reached by a private stair. + And round the house a covered way should run + Where horses might be trained. + And sometimes riding, sometimes going afoot + You shall explore, O Soul, the parks of spring; + Your jewelled axles gleaming in the sun + And yoke inlaid with gold; + Or amid orchises and sandal-trees + Shall walk in the dark woods. + O Soul come back and live for these delights! + + Peacocks shall fill your gardens; you shall rear + The roc and phoenix, and red jungle-fowl, + Whose cry at dawn assembles river storks + To join the play of cranes and ibises; + Where the wild-swan all day + Pursues the glint of idle king-fishers. + O Soul come back to watch the birds in flight! + + He who has found such manifold delights + Shall feel his cheeks aglow + And the blood-spirit dancing through his limbs. + Stay with me, Soul, and share + The span of days that happiness will bring; + See sons and grandsons serving at the Court + Ennobled and enriched. + O Soul come back and bring prosperity + To house and stock! + + The roads that lead to Ch`u + Shall teem with travellers as thick as clouds, + A thousand miles away. + For the Five Orders of Nobility + Shall summon sages to assist the King + And with godlike discrimination choose + The wise in council; by their aid to probe + The hidden discontents of humble men + And help the lonely poor. + O Soul come back and end what we began! + + Fields, villages and lanes + Shall throng with happy men; + Good rule protect the people and make known + The King's benevolence to all the land; + Stern discipline prepare + Their natures for the soft caress of Art. + O Soul come back to where the good are praised! + + Like the sun shining over the four seas + Shall be the reputation of our King; + His deeds, matched only in Heaven, shall repair + The wrongs endured by every tribe of men,-- + Northward to Yu and southward to Annam + To the Sheep's Gut Mountain and the Eastern Seas. + O Soul come back to where the wise are sought! + + Behold the glorious virtues of our King + Triumphant, terrible; + Behold with solemn faces in the Hall + The Three Grand Ministers walk up and down,-- + None chosen for the post save landed-lords + Or, in default, Knights of the Nine Degrees. + At the first ray of dawn already is hung + The shooting-target, where with bow in hand + And arrows under arm, + Each archer does obeisance to each, + Willing to yield his rights of precedence. + O Soul come back to where men honour still + The name of the Three Kings.[2] + +[1] The harp. + +[2] Y, T`ang and Wen1, the three just rulers of antiquity. + + + + +WANG WEI + +[_A.D. 699-759_] + + + + +[2] PROSE LETTER + +_To the Bachelor-of-Arts P`ei Ti_ + + +Of late during the sacrificial month, the weather has been calm and +clear, and I might easily have crossed the mountain. But I knew that you +were conning the classics and did not dare disturb you. So I roamed +about the mountain-side, rested at the Kan-p`ei Temple, dined with the +mountain priests, and, after dinner, came home again. Going northwards, +I crossed the Yan-pa, over whose waters the unclouded moon shone with +dazzling rim. When night was far advanced, I mounted Hua-tz's Hill and +saw the moonlight tossed up and thrown down by the jostling waves of +Wang River. On the wintry mountain distant lights twinkled and vanished; +in some deep lane beyond the forest a dog barked at the cold, with a cry +as fierce as a wolf's. The sound of villagers grinding their corn at +night filled the gaps between the slow chiming of a distant bell. + +Now I am sitting alone. I listen, but cannot hear my grooms and servants +move or speak. I think much of old days: how hand in hand, composing +poems as we went, we walked down twisting paths to the banks of clear +streams. + +We must wait for Spring to come: till the grasses sprout and the trees +bloom. Then wandering together in the spring hills we shall see the +trout leap lightly from the stream, the white gulls stretch their wings, +the dew fall on the green moss. And in the morning we shall hear the cry +of curlews in the barley-fields. + +It is not long to wait. Shall you be with me then? Did I not know the +natural subtlety of your intelligence, I would not dare address to you +so remote an invitation. You will understand that a deep feeling +dictates this course. + +Written without disrespect by Wang Wei, a dweller in the mountains. + + + + +LI PO + +[_A.D. 701-762_] + + + + +[3-5] DRINKING ALONE BY MOONLIGHT + +[_Three Poems_] + + +I + + A cup of wine, under the flowering trees; + I drink alone, for no friend is near. + Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon, + For he, with my shadow, will make three men. + The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine; + Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side. + Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave + I must make merry before the Spring is spent. + To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams; + In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks. + While we were sober, three shared the fun; + Now we are drunk, each goes his way. + May we long share our odd, inanimate feast, + And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.[1] + + +II + + In the third month the town of Hsien-yang + Is thick-spread with a carpet of fallen flowers. + Who in Spring can bear to grieve alone? + Who, sober, look on sights like these? + Riches and Poverty, long or short life, + By the Maker of Things are portioned and disposed; + But a cup of wine levels life and death + And a thousand things obstinately hard to prove. + When I am drunk, I lose Heaven and Earth. + Motionless--I cleave to my lonely bed. + At last I forget that I exist at all, + And at _that_ moment my joy is great indeed. + + +III + + If High Heaven had no love for wine, + There would not be a Wine Star in the sky. + If Earth herself had no love for wine, + There would not be a city called Wine Springs.[2] + Since Heaven and Earth both love wine, + I can love wine, without shame before God. + Clear wine was once called a Saint;[3] + Thick wine was once called "a Sage."[3] + + Of Saint and Sage I have long quaffed deep, + What need for me to study spirits and _hsien_?[4] + At the third cup I penetrate the Great Way; + A full gallon--Nature and I are one ... + But the things I feel when wine possesses my soul + I will never tell to those who are not drunk. + +[1] The Milky Way. + +[2] Ch`iu-ch`an, in Kansuh. + +[3] "History of Wei Dynasty" (Life of Hs Mo): "A drunken visitor said, +'Clear wine I account a Saint: thick wine only a Sage.'" + +[4] The lore of Rishi, Immortals. + + + + +[6] IN THE MOUNTAINS ON A SUMMER DAY + + + Gently I stir a white feather fan, + With open shirt sitting in a green wood. + I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone; + A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head. + + + + +[7] WAKING FROM DRUNKENNESS ON A SPRING DAY + + + "Life in the World is but a big dream; + I will not spoil it by any labour or care." + So saying, I was drunk all the day, + Lying helpless at the porch in front of my door. + When I woke up, I blinked at the garden-lawn; + A lonely bird was singing amid the flowers. + I asked myself, had the day been wet or fine? + The Spring wind was telling the mango-bird. + Moved by its song I soon began to sigh, + And as wine was there I filled my own cup. + Wildly singing I waited for the moon to rise; + When my song was over, all my senses had gone. + + + + +[8] SELF-ABANDONMENT + + + I sat drinking and did not notice the dusk, + Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress. + Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream; + The birds were gone, and men also few. + + + + +[9] TO TAN CH`IU + + + My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range, + Dearly loving the beauty of valleys and hills. + At green Spring he lies in the empty woods, + And is still asleep when the sun shines on high. + A pine-tree wind dusts his sleeves and coat; + A pebbly stream cleans his heart and ears. + I envy you, who far from strife and talk + Are high-propped on a pillow of blue cloud. + + + + +[10] CLEARING AT DAWN + + + The fields are chill; the sparse rain has stopped; + The colours of Spring teem on every side. + With leaping fish the blue pond is full; + With singing thrushes the green boughs droop. + The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks; + The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist. + By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud + Blown by the wind slowly scatters away. + + + + +PO CHU-I + +LIFE OF PO CHU-I + + +772 Born on 20th of 1st month. +800 Passes his examinations. +806 Receives a minor post at Chou-chih, near the capital. +807 Made Scholar of the Han Lin Academy. +811 Retires to Wei River, being in mourning for his mother. +814 Returns to Court. +815 Banished to Hsn-yang. +818 Removed to Chung-chou. +820 Reprieved and returns to Court. +822 Governor of Hangchow. +825 Governor of Soochow. +826 Retires owing to illness. +827 Returns to Ch`ang-an. +829 Settles permanently at Lo-yang. +831 Governor of Ho-nan, the province of which Lo-yang was capital. +833 Retires owing to illness. +839 Has paralytic stroke in tenth month. +846 Dies in the eighth month. + + + + +[11] AFTER PASSING THE EXAMINATION + +[_A.D. 800_] + + + For ten years I never left my books; + I went up ... and won unmerited praise. + My high place I do not much prize; + The joy of my parents will first make me proud. + Fellow students, six or seven men, + See me off as I leave the City gate. + My covered couch is ready to drive away; + Flutes and strings blend their parting tune. + Hopes achieved dull the pains of parting; + Fumes of wine shorten the long road.... + Shod with wings is the horse of him who rides + On a Spring day the road that leads to home. + + + + +[12] ESCORTING CANDIDATES TO THE EXAMINATION HALL + +[_A.D. 805_] + + + At dawn I rode to escort the Doctors of Art; + In the eastern quarter the sky was still grey. + I said to myself, "You have started far too soon," + But horses and coaches already thronged the road. + High and low the riders' torches bobbed; + Muffled or loud, the watchman's drum beat. + Riders, when I see you prick + To your early levee, pity fills my heart. + When the sun rises and the hot dust flies + And the creatures of earth resume their great strife, + You, with your striving, what shall you each seek? + Profit and fame, for that is all your care. + But I, you courtiers, rise from my bed at noon + And live idly in the city of Ch`ang-an. + Spring is deep and my term of office spent; + Day by day my thoughts go back to the hills. + + + + +[13] IN EARLY SUMMER LODGING IN A TEMPLE TO ENJOY THE MOONLIGHT + +[_A.D. 805_] + + + In early summer, with two or three more + That were seeking fame in the city of Ch`ang-an, + Whose low employ gave them less business + Than ever they had since first they left their homes,-- + With these I wandered deep into the shrine of Tao, + For the joy we sought was promised in this place. + When we reached the gate, we sent our coaches back; + We entered the yard with only cap and stick. + Still and clear, the first weeks of May, + When trees are green and bushes soft and wet; + When the wind has stolen the shadows of new leaves + And birds linger on the last boughs that bloom. + Towards evening when the sky grew clearer yet + And the South-east was still clothed in red, + To the western cloister we carried our jar of wine; + While we waited for the moon, our cups moved slow. + Soon, how soon her golden ghost was born, + Swiftly, as though she had waited for us to come. + The beams of her light shone in every place, + On towers and halls dancing to and fro. + Till day broke we sat in her clear light + Laughing and singing, and yet never grew tired. + In Ch`ang-an, the place of profit and fame, + Such moods as this, how many men know? + + + + +[14] SICK LEAVE + +[_While Secretary to the Deputy-Assistant-Magistrate of Chou-chih, near +Ch`ang-an, in A.D. 806_] + + + Propped on pillows, not attending to business; + For two days I've lain behind locked doors. + I begin to think that those who hold office + Get no rest, except by falling ill! + For restful thoughts one does not need space; + The room where I lie is ten foot square. + By the western eaves, above the bamboo-twigs, + From my couch I see the White Mountain rise. + But the clouds that hover on its far-distant peak + Bring shame to a face that is buried in the World's dust. + + + + +[15] WATCHING THE REAPERS + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + Tillers of the soil have few idle months; + In the fifth month their toil is double-fold. + A south-wind visits the fields at night: + Suddenly the hill is covered with yellow corn. + Wives and daughters shoulder baskets of rice; + Youths and boys carry the flasks of wine. + Following after they bring a wage of meat, + To the strong reapers toiling on the southern hill, + Whose feet are burned by the hot earth they tread, + Whose backs are scorched by flames of the shining sky. + Tired they toil, caring nothing for the heat, + Grudging the shortness of the long summer day. + A poor woman follows at the reapers' side + With an infant child carried close at her breast. + With her right hand she gleans the fallen grain; + On her left arm a broken basket hangs. + And _I_ to-day ... by virtue of what right + Have I never once tended field or tree? + My government-pay is three hundred tons; + At the year's end I have still grain in hand. + Thinking of this, secretly I grew ashamed; + And all day the thought lingered in my head. + + + + +[16] GOING ALONE TO SPEND A NIGHT AT THE HSIEN-YU TEMPLE + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + The crane from the shore standing at the top of the steps; + The moon on the pool seen at the open door; + Where these are, I made my lodging-place + And for two nights could not turn away. + I am glad I chanced on a place so lonely and still + With no companion to drag me early home. + Now that I have tasted the joy of being alone + I will never again come with a friend at my side. + + + + +[17] PLANTING BAMBOOS + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + Unrewarded, my will to serve the State; + At my closed door autumn grasses grow. + What could I do to ease a rustic heart? + I planted bamboos, more than a hundred shoots. + When I see their beauty, as they grow by the stream-side, + I feel again as though I lived in the hills, + And many a time on public holidays + Round their railing I walk till night comes. + Do not say that their roots are still weak, + Do not say that their shade is still small; + Already I feel that both in garden and house + Day by day a fresher air moves. + But most I love, lying near the window-side, + To hear in their branches the sound of the autumn-wind. + + + + +[18] TO LI CHIEN + +[_Part of a Poem_] + +[_A.D. 807_] + + + Worldly matters again draw my steps; + Worldly things again seduce my heart. + Whenever for long I part from Li Chien + Gradually my thoughts grow narrow and covetous. + I remember how once I used to visit you; + I stopped my horse and tapped at the garden-gate. + Often when I came you were still lying in bed; + Your little children were sent to let me in. + And you, laughing, ran to the front-door + With coat-tails flying and cap all awry. + On the swept terrace, green patterns of moss; + On the dusted bench, clean shadows of leaves. + To gaze at the hills we sat in the eastern lodge; + To wait for the moon we walked to the southern moor. + At your quiet gate only birds spoke; + In your distant street few drums were heard. + Opposite each other all day we talked, + And never once spoke of profit or fame. + Since we parted hands, how long has passed? + Thrice and again the full moon has shone. + For when we parted the last flowers were falling, + And to-day I hear new cicadas sing. + The scented year suddenly draws to its close, + Yet the sorrow of parting is still unsubdued. + + + + +[19] AT THE END OF SPRING + +_To Yan Chen1._[1] [_A.D. 810_] + + + The flower of the pear-tree gathers and turns to fruit; + The swallows' eggs have hatched into young birds. + When the Seasons' changes thus confront the mind + What comfort can the Doctrine of Tao give? + It will teach me to watch the days and months fly + Without grieving that Youth slips away; + If the Fleeting World is but a long dream, + It does not matter whether one is young or old. + But ever since the day that my friend left my side + And has lived an exile in the City of Chiang-ling, + There is one wish I cannot quite destroy: + That from time to time we may chance to meet again. + +[1] Po Ch-i's great friend. See Nos. 63 and 64. + + + + +[20] THE POEM ON THE WALL + +[_A.D. 810_] + +[_Yan Chen1 wrote that on his way to exile he had discovered a poem +inscribed by Po Ch-i, on the wall of the Lo-k`ou Inn._] + + + My clumsy poem on the inn-wall none cared to see. + With bird-droppings and moss's growth the letters were blotched away. + There came a guest with heart so full, that though a page to the + Throne, + He did not grudge with his broidered coat to wipe off the dust, and + read. + + + + +[21] CHU CH`EN1 VILLAGE + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + In Hs-chou, in the District of Ku-feng1 + There lies a village whose name is Chu-ch`en1-- + A hundred miles away from the county-town, + Amid fields of hemp and green of mulberry-trees. + Click, click goes the sound of the spinning-wheel; + Mules and oxen pack the village-streets. + The girls go drawing the water from the brook; + The men go gathering fire-wood on the hill. + So far from the town Government affairs are few; + So deep in the hills, man's ways are simple. + Though they have wealth, they do not traffic with it; + Though they reach the age, they do not enter the Army. + Each family keeps to its village trade; + Grey-headed, they have never left the gates. + + Alive, they are the people of Ch`en1 Village; + Dead, they become the dust of Ch`en1 Village. + Out in the fields old men and young + Gaze gladly, each in the other's face. + In the whole village there are only two clans; + Age after age Chus have married Ch`ens1. + Near or distant, they have kinsmen in every house; + Young or old, they have friends wherever they go. + On white wine and roasted fowl they fare + At joyful meetings more than "once a week." + While they are alive, they have no distant partings; + To choose a wife they go to a neighbour's house. + When they are dead,--no distant burial; + Round the village graves lie thick. + They are not troubled either about life or death; + They have no anguish either of body or soul. + And so it happens that they live to a ripe age + And great-great-grandsons are often seen. + + _I_ was born in the Realms of Etiquette; + In early years, unprotected and poor. + Alone, I learnt to distinguish between Evil and Good; + Untutored, I toiled at bitter tasks. + The World's Law honours Learning and Fame; + Scholars prize marriages and Caps. + With these fetters I gyved my own hands; + Truly I became a much-deceived man. + At ten years old I learnt to read books; + At fifteen, I knew how to write prose. + At twenty I was made a Bachelor of Arts; + At thirty I became a Censor at the Court. + Above, the duty I owe to Prince and parents; + Below, the ties that bind me to wife and child. + The support of my family, the service of my country-- + For these tasks my nature is not apt. + I reckon the time that I first left my home; + From then till now,--fifteen Springs! + My lonely boat has thrice sailed to Ch`u; + Four times through Ch`in my lean horse has passed. + I have walked in the morning with hunger in my face; + I have lain at night with a soul that could not rest. + East and West I have wandered without pause, + Hither and thither like a cloud astray in the sky. + In the civil-war my old home was destroyed; + Of my flesh and blood many are scattered and lost. + North of the River, and South of the River-- + In both lands are the friends of all my life; + Life-friends whom I never see at all,-- + Whose deaths I hear of only after the lapse of years. + Sad at morning, I lie on my bed till dusk; + Weeping at night, I sit and wait for dawn. + The fire of sorrow has burnt my heart's core; + The frost of trouble has seized my hair's roots. + In such anguish has my whole life passed; + Long I have envied the people of Ch`en1 Village. + + + + +[22] FISHING IN THE WEI RIVER + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + In waters still as a burnished mirror's face, + In the depths of Wei, carp and grayling swim. + Idly I come with my bamboo fishing-rod + And hang my hook by the banks of Wei stream. + A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear + Softly shaking my ten feet of line. + Though my body sits waiting for fish to come, + My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness.[1] + Long ago a white-headed man[2] + Also fished at the same river's side; + A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish, + At seventy years, he caught Wen1 Wang.[2] + But _I_, when I come to cast my hook in the stream, + Have no thought either of fish or men. + Lacking the skill to capture either prey, + I can only bask in the autumn water's light. + When I tire of this, my fishing also stops; + I go to my home and drink my cup of wine. + +[1] See "Chuang Tzu," chap. i, end. + +[2] The Sage T`ai-kung sat still till he was seventy, apparently +fishing, but really waiting for a Prince who would employ him. At last +Wen1 Wang, Prince of Chou, happened to come that way and at once made +him his counsellor. + + + + +[23] LAZY MAN'S SONG + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it; + I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it. + My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it. + My clothes are torn; I am too lazy to darn them. + I have got wine, but am too lazy to drink; + So it's just the same as if my cellar were empty. + I have got a harp, but am too lazy to play; + So it's just the same as if it had no strings. + My wife tells me there is no more bread in the house; + I want to bake, but am too lazy to grind. + My friends and relatives write me long letters; + I should like to read them, but they're such a bother to open. + I have always been told that Chi Shu-yeh[1] + Passed his whole life in absolute idleness. + But he played the harp and sometimes transmuted metals, + So even _he_ was not so lazy as I. + +[1] Also known as Chi K`ang. A famous Quietist. + + + + +[24] ILLNESS AND IDLENESS + +[_Circa A.D. 812_] + + + Illness and idleness give me much leisure. + What do I do with my leisure, when it comes? + I cannot bring myself to discard inkstone and brush; + Now and then I make a new poem. + When the poem is made, it is slight and flavourless, + A thing of derision to almost every one. + Superior people will be pained at the flatness of the metre; + Common people will hate the plainness of the words. + I sing it to myself, then stop and think about it ... + + * * * * * + + The Prefects of Soochow and P`eng1-tse1[1] + Would perhaps have praised it, but they died long ago. + Who else would care to hear it? + No one to-day except Yan Chen1, + And _he_ is banished to the City of Chiang-ling, + For three years an usher in the Penal Court. + Parted from me by three thousand leagues + He will never know even that the poem was made. + +[1] Wei Ying-wu, eighth century A.D., and T`ao Ch`ien, A.D. 365-427. + + + + +[25] WINTER NIGHT + +[_Written during his retirement in 812_] + + + My house is poor; those that I love have left me; + My body sick; I cannot join the feast. + There is not a living soul before my eyes + As I lie alone locked in my cottage room. + My broken lamp burns with a feeble flame; + My tattered curtains are crooked and do not meet. + "Tsek, tsek" on the door-step and window-sill + Again I hear the new snow fall. + As I grow older, gradually I sleep less; + I wake at midnight and sit up straight in bed. + If I had not learned the "art of sitting and forgetting,"[1] + How could I bear this utter loneliness? + Stiff and stark my body cleaves to the earth; + Unimpeded my soul yields to Change.[2] + So has it been for four hateful years, + Through one thousand and three hundred nights! + +[1] Yen Hui told Confucius that he had acquired the "art of sitting and +forgetting." Asked what that meant, Yen Hui replied, "I have learnt to +discard my body and obliterate my intelligence; to abandon matter and be +impervious to sense-perception. By this method I become one with the +All-Pervading."--_Chuang Tzu_, chap. vi. + +[2] "Change" is the principle of endless mutation which governs the +Universe. + + + + +[26] THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS IN THE EASTERN GARDEN + +[_A.D. 812_] + + + The days of my youth left me long ago; + And now in their turn dwindle my years of prime. + With what thoughts of sadness and loneliness + I walk again in this cold, deserted place! + In the midst of the garden long I stand alone; + The sunshine, faint; the wind and dew chill. + The autumn lettuce is tangled and turned to seed; + The fair trees are blighted and withered away. + All that is left are a few chrysanthemum-flowers + That have newly opened beneath the wattled fence. + I had brought wine and meant to fill my cup, + When the sight of these made me stay my hand. + I remember, when I was young, + How easily my mood changed from sad to gay. + If I saw wine, no matter at what season, + Before I drank it, my heart was already glad. + But now that age comes, + A moment of joy is harder and harder to get. + And always I fear that when I am quite old + The strongest liquor will leave me comfortless. + Therefore I ask you, late chrysanthemum-flower + At this sad season why do you bloom alone? + Though well I know that it was not for my sake, + Taught by you, for a while I will open my face. + + + + +[27] POEMS IN DEPRESSION, AT WEI VILLAGE + +[_A.D. 812_] + + +[1] + + I hug my pillow and do not speak a word; + In my empty room no sound stirs. + Who knows that, all day a-bed, + I am not ill and am not even asleep? + + +[2] + + Turned to jade are the boy's rosy cheeks; + To his sick temples the frost of winter clings.... + Do not wonder that my body sinks to decay; + Though my limbs are old, my heart is older yet. + + + + +[28] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN, WHO WAS SERVING IN TUNG-CH`UAN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Sullen, sullen, my brows are ever knit; + Silent, silent, my lips will not move. + It is not indeed that I choose to sorrow thus; + If I lift my eyes, who would share my joy? + Last Spring _you_ were called to the West + To carry arms in the lands of Pa and Shu; + And this Spring _I_ was banished to the South + To nurse my sickness on the River's oozy banks. + You are parted from me by six thousand leagues; + In another world, under another sky. + Of ten letters, nine do not reach; + What can I do to open my sad face? + Thirsty men often dream of drink; + Hungry men often dream of food. + Since Spring came, where do my dreams lodge? + Ere my eyes are closed, I have travelled to Tung-ch`uan. + + + + +[29] STARTING EARLY FROM THE CH`U-CH`ENG1 INN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Washed by the rain, dust and grime are laid; + Skirting the river, the road's course is flat. + The moon has risen on the last remnants of night; + The travellers' speed profits by the early cold. + In the great silence I whisper a faint song; + In the black darkness are bred sombre thoughts. + On the lotus-banks hovers a dewy breeze; + Through the rice-furrows trickles a singing stream. + At the noise of our bells a sleeping dog stirs; + At the sight of our torches a roosting bird wakes. + Dawn glimmers through the shapes of misty trees ... + For ten miles, till day at last breaks. + + + + +[30] RAIN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Since I lived a stranger in the City of Hsn-yang + Hour by hour bitter rain has poured. + On few days has the dark sky cleared; + In listless sleep I have spent much time. + The lake has widened till it almost joins the sky; + The clouds sink till they touch the water's face. + Beyond my hedge I hear the boatmen's talk; + At the street-end I hear the fisher's song. + Misty birds are lost in yellow air; + Windy sails kick the white waves. + In front of my gate the horse and carriage-way + In a single night has turned into a river-bed. + + + + +[31] THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + At the rise of summer a hundred beasts and trees + Join in gladness that the Season bids them thrive. + Stags and does frolic in the deep woods; + Snakes and insects are pleased by the rank grass. + Wingd birds love the thick leaves; + Scaly fish enjoy the fresh weeds. + But to one place Summer forgot to come; + I alone am left like a withered straw ... + Banished to the world's end; + Flesh and bone all in distant ways. + From my native-place no tidings come; + Rebel troops flood the land with war. + Sullen grief, in the end, what will it bring? + I am only wearing my own heart away. + Better far to let both body and mind + Blindly yield to the fate that Heaven made. + Hsn-yang abounds in good wine; + I will fill my cup and never let it be dry. + On Pen1 River fish are cheap as mud; + Early and late I will eat them, boiled and fried. + With morning rice at the temple under the hill, + And evening wine at the island in the lake ... + Why should my thoughts turn to my native land? + For in this place one could well end one's age. + + + + +[32] VISITING THE HSI-LIN TEMPLE + +[_Written during his exile_] + + + I dismount from my horse at the Hsi-lin Temple; + I throw the porter my slender riding-whip. + In the morning I work at a Government office-desk; + In the evening I become a dweller in the Sacred Hills. + In the second month to the north of Kuang-lu + The ice breaks and the snow begins to melt. + On the southern plantation the tea-plant thrusts its sprouts; + Through the northern sluice the veins of the spring ooze. + + * * * * * + + This year there is war in An-hui, + In every place soldiers are rushing to arms. + Men of learning have been summoned to the Council Board; + Men of action are marching to the battle-line. + Only I, who have no talents at all, + Am left in the mountains to play with the pebbles of the stream. + + + + +[33] PROSE LETTER TO YAN CHEN1 + +[_A.D. 818_] + + +Night of the tenth day of the fourth month. Lo-t`ien[1] says: O +Wei-chih,[2] Wei-chih, it is three years since I saw your face and +almost two years since I had a letter from you. Is man's life so long +that he can afford such partings? Much less should hearts joined by glue +be set in bodies remote as Hu and Yeh.[3] In promotion we could not be +together; and in failure we cannot forget each other. Snatched and +wrenched apart, separately each of us grows grey. O Wei-chih, what is to +be done? But this is the work of Heaven and there is no use in speaking +of it. + +When I first arrived at Hsn-yang, Hsiung Ju-teng1[4] came with the +letter which you had written the year before, when you were so ill. +First you told me of the progress of your illness, next of your feelings +while you were ill and last you spoke of all our meetings and partings, +and of the occasion of your own difficulties and dangers. You had no +time to write more, but sent a bundle of your writings with a note +attached, which said, "Later on I will send a message by Po +Min-chung.[5] Ask him for news and that will do instead of a letter." +Alas! Is it thus that Wei-chih treats me? But again, I read the poem you +wrote when you heard I had been banished: + + _The lamp had almost spent its light: shadows filled the room, + The night I heard that Lo-t`ien was banished to Kiu-kiang. + And I that had lain sick to death sat up suddenly in bed; + A dark wind blowing rain entered at the cold window._ + +If even strangers' hearts are touched by these lines, much more must +mine be; so that to this day I cannot recite them without pain. Of this +matter I will say no more, but tell you briefly what has passed of late. + +It is more than three years since I came to Kiu-kiang. All this time my +body has been strong and my heart much at peace. There has been no +sickness in my household, even among the servants. Last summer my elder +brother arrived from Hs-chou, leading by the hand six or seven little +brothers and sisters, orphans of various households. So that I have +under my eyes all those who at present demand my care. They share with +me cold and heat, hunger and satiety. This is my first consolation. + +The climate of the River Province is somewhat cool, so that fevers and +epidemics are rare. And while snakes and mosquitoes are few, the fish in +the Pen1 are remarkably fat, the River wine is exceedingly good, and +indeed for the most part the food is like that of the North Country. +Although the mouths within my doors are many and the salary of a +Sub-Prefect is small, by a thrifty application of my means, I am yet +able to provide for my household without seeking any man's assistance to +clothe their backs or fill their bellies. This is my second consolation. + +In the autumn of last year I visited Lu Shan[6] for the first time. +Reaching a point between the Eastern Forest and Western Forest Temples, +beneath the Incense-Burner Peak, I was enamoured by the unequalled +prospect of cloud-girt waters and spray-clad rocks. Unable to leave +this place, I built a cottage here. Before it stand ten tall pines and a +thousand tapering bamboos. With green creepers I fenced my garden; with +white stones I made bridge and path. Flowing waters encircle my home; +flying spray falls between the eaves. Red pomegranate and white lotus +cluster on the steps of the pond. All is after this pattern, though I +cannot here name each delight. Whenever I come here alone, I am moved to +prolong my stay to ten days; for of the things that have all my life +most pleased me, not one is missing. So that not only do I forget to go +back, but would gladly end my days here. This is my third consolation. + +Remembering that not having had news of me for so long, you might be in +some anxiety with regard to me, I have hastened to set your mind at rest +by recording these three consolations. What else I have to tell shall be +set out in due order, as follows....[7] + +Wei-chih, Wei-chih! The night I wrote this letter I was sitting at the +mountain-window of my thatched hut. I let my brush run as my hand willed +and wrote at hazard as my thoughts came. When I folded it and addressed +it, I found that dawn had come. I raised my head and saw only a few +mountain-priests, some sitting, some sleeping. I heard the mournful +cries of mountain apes and the sad twitterings of valley birds. O friend +of all my life, parted from me by a thousand leagues, at such times as +this "dim thoughts of the World"[8] creep upon me for a while; so, +following my ancient custom, I send you these three couplets: + + _I remember how once I wrote you a letter sitting in the Palace at + night, + At the back of the Hall of Golden Bells, when dawn was coming in the + sky. + This night I fold your letter--in what place? + Sitting in a cottage on Lu Shan, by the light of a late lamp. + The caged bird and fettered ape are neither of them dead yet; + In the world of men face to face will they ever meet again?_ + +O Wei-chih, Wei-chih! This night, this heart--do you know them or not? +Lo-t`ien bows his head. + +[1] Other name of Po Ch-i. + +[2] Other name of Yan Chen1. + +[3] The extreme North and South of China. + +[4] A poet, several of whose short poems are well-known. + +[5] The son of Po Ch-i`s uncle Po Ch`i-k`ang. + +[6] A famous mountain near Kiu-kiang. + +[7] What followed is omitted in the printed text. + +[8] This expression is used by Yan Chen1 in a poem addressed to Po +Ch-i. By "the World," he means their life together at Court. + + + + +[34] HEARING THE EARLY ORIOLE + +[_Written in exile_] + + + When the sun rose I was still lying in bed; + An early oriole sang on the roof of my house. + For a moment I thought of the Royal Park at dawn + When the Birds of Spring greeted their Lord from his trees. + I remembered the days when I served before the Throne + Pencil in hand, on duty at the Ch`eng1-ming;[1] + At the height of spring, when I paused an instant from work, + Morning and evening, was _this_ the voice I heard? + Now in my exile the oriole sings again + In the dreary stillness of Hsn-yang town ... + The bird's note cannot really have changed; + All the difference lies in the listener's heart. + If he could but forget that he lives at the World's end, + The bird would sing as it sang in the Palace of old. + +[1] Name of a palace at Ch`ang-an. + + + + +[35] DREAMING THAT I WENT WITH LU AND YU TO VISIT YAN CHEN1 + +[_Written in exile_] + + + At night I dreamt I was back in Ch`ang-an; + I saw again the faces of old friends. + And in my dreams, under an April sky, + They led me by the hand to wander in the spring winds. + Together we came to the village of Peace and Quiet; + We stopped our horses at the gate of Yan Chen1. + Yan Chen1 was sitting all alone; + When he saw me coming, a smile came to his face. + He pointed back at the flowers in the western court; + Then opened wine in the northern summer-house. + He seemed to be saying that neither of us had changed; + He seemed to be regretting that joy will not stay; + That our souls had met only for a little while, + To part again with hardly time for greeting. + I woke up and thought him still at my side; + I put out my hand; there was nothing there at all. + + + + +[36] THE FIFTEENTH VOLUME + +[_Having completed the fifteenth volume of his works, the poet sends it +to his friends Yan Chen1 and Li Chien, with a jesting poem._] + +[_Written in 818_] + + + My long poem, the "Eternal Grief,"[1] is a beautiful and moving work; + My ten "Songs of Shensi" are models of tunefulness. + I cannot prevent Old Yan from stealing my best rhymes; + But I earnestly beg Little Li to respect my ballads and songs. + While I am alive riches and honour will never fall to my lot; + But well I know that after I am dead the fame of my books will live. + This random talk and foolish boasting forgive me, for to-day + I have added Volume Fifteen to the row that stands to my name. + +[1] See Giles, "Chinese Literature," p. 169. + + + + +[37] INVITATION TO HSIAO CH-SHIH[1] + +[_Written when Governor of Chung-Chou_] + + + Within the Gorges there is no lack of men; + They are people one meets, not people one cares for. + At my front door guests also arrive; + They are people one sits with, not people one knows. + When I look up, there are only clouds and trees; + When I look down--only my wife and child. + I sleep, eat, get up or sit still; + Apart from that, nothing happens at all. + But beyond the city Hsiao the hermit dwells; + And with _him_ at least I find myself at ease. + For _he_ can drink a full flagon of wine + And is good at reciting long-line poems. + Some afternoon, when the clerks have all gone home, + At a season when the path by the river bank is dry, + I beg you, take up your staff of bamboo-wood + And find your way to the parlour of the Government House. + +[1] Nos. 37, 38, 39, and 40 were written when the poet was Governor of a +remote part of Ssechuan,--in the extreme west of China. + + + + +[38] TO LI CHIEN + +[_A.D. 818_] + + + The province I govern is humble and remote; + Yet our festivals follow the Courtly Calendar. + At rise of day we sacrificed to the Wind God, + When darkly, darkly, dawn glimmered in the sky. + Officers followed, horsemen led the way; + They brought us out to the wastes beyond the town, + Where river mists fall heavier than rain, + And the fires on the hill leap higher than the stars. + + Suddenly I remembered the early levees at Court + When you and I galloped to the Purple Yard. + As we walked our horses up Dragon Tail Street + We turned our heads and gazed at the Southern Hills. + Since we parted, both of us have been growing old; + And our minds have been vexed by many anxious cares. + Yet even now I fancy my ears are full + Of the sound of jade tinkling on your bridle-straps. + + + + +[39] THE SPRING RIVER + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Heat and cold, dusk and dawn have crowded one upon the other; + Suddenly I find it is two years since I came to Chung-chou. + Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening + drum; + From my upper windows all I see is the ships that come and go.[1] + In vain the orioles tempt me with their song to stray beneath + the flowering trees; + In vain the grasses lure me by their colour to sit beside the pond. + There is one thing and one alone I never tire of watching-- + The spring river as it trickles over the stones and babbles past the + rocks. + +[1] "The Emperor Saga of Japan [reigned A.D. 810-23] one day quoted to +his Minister, Ono no Takamura, the couplet: + + 'Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening + drum; + From my upper windows in the distance I see ships that come and go.' + +Takamura, thinking these were the Emperor's own verses, said: 'If I may +venture to criticize an august composition, I would suggest that the +phrase "in the distance" be altered.' The Emperor was delighted, for he +had purposely changed 'all I see' to 'in the distance I see.' At that +time there was only one copy of Po Ch-i's poems in Japan and the +Emperor, to whom it belonged, had allowed no one to see it."--From the +_Kdansh_ [twelfth century]. + + + + +[40] AFTER COLLECTING THE AUTUMN TAXES + + + From my high castle I look at the town below + Where the natives of Pa cluster like a swarm of flies. + How can I govern these people and lead them aright? + I cannot even understand what they say. + But at least I am glad, now that the taxes are in, + To learn that in my province there is no discontent. + I fear its prosperity is not due to me + And was only caused by the year's abundant crops, + The papers that lie on my desk are simple and few; + My house by the moat is leisurely and still. + In the autumn rain the berries fall from the eaves; + At the evening bell the birds return to the wood. + A broken sunlight quavers over the southern porch + Where I lie on my couch abandoned to idleness. + + + + +[41] LODGING WITH THE OLD MAN OF THE STREAM + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Men's hearts love gold and jade; + Men's mouths covet wine and flesh. + Not so the old man of the stream; + He drinks from his gourd and asks nothing more. + South of the stream he cuts firewood and grass; + North of the stream he has built wall and roof. + Yearly he sows a single acre of land; + In spring he drives two yellow calves. + In these things he finds great repose; + Beyond these he has no wish or care. + By chance I met him walking by the water-side; + He took me home and lodged me in his thatched hut. + When I parted from him, to seek market and Court, + This old man asked my rank and pay. + Doubting my tale, he laughed loud and long: + "Privy Councillors do not sleep in barns." + + + + +[42] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Can the single cup of wine + We drank this morning have made my heart so glad? + This is a joy that comes only from within, + Which those who witness will never understand. + I have but two brothers + And bitterly grieved that both were far away; + This Spring, back through the Gorges of Pa, + I have come to them safely, ten thousand leagues. + Two sisters I had + Who had put up their hair, but not twined the sash;[1] + Yesterday both were married and taken away + By good husbands in whom I may well trust. + I am freed at last from the thoughts that made me grieve, + As though a sword had cut a rope from my neck. + And limbs grow light when the heart sheds its care: + Suddenly I seem to be flying up to the sky! + + * * * * * + + Hsing-chien, drink your cup of wine + Then set it down and listen to what I say. + Do not sigh that your home is far away; + Do not mind if your salary is small. + Only pray that as long as life lasts, + You and I may never be forced to part. + +[1] I.e., got married. + + + + +[43] THE PINE-TREES IN THE COURTYARD + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Below the hall + The pine-trees grow in front of the steps, + Irregularly scattered,--not in ordered lines. + Some are tall and some are low: + The tallest of them is six roods high; + The lowest but ten feet. + They are like wild things + And no one knows who planted them. + They touch the walls of my blue-tiled house; + Their roots are sunk in the terrace of white sand. + Morning and evening they are visited by the wind and moon; + Rain or fine,--they are free from dust and mud. + In the gales of autumn they whisper a vague tune; + From the suns of summer they yield a cool shade. + At the height of spring the fine evening rain + Fills their leaves with a load of hanging pearls. + At the year's end the time of great snow + Stamps their branches with a fret of glittering jade. + Of the Four Seasons each has its own mood; + Among all the trees none is like another. + Last year, when they heard I had bought this house, + Neighbours mocked and the World called me mad-- + That a whole family of twice ten souls + Should move house for the sake of a few pines! + Now that I have come to them, what have they given me? + They have only loosened the buckles of my care. + Yet even so, they are "profitable friends,"[1] + And fill my need of "converse with wise men." + Yet when I consider how, still a man of the world, + In belt and cap I scurry through dirt and dust, + From time to time my heart twinges with shame + That I am not fit to be master of my pines! + +[1] See "Analects of Confucius" 4 and 5, where three kinds of +"profitable friends" and three kinds of "profitable pleasures" are +described; the third of the latter being "plenty of intelligent +companions." + + + + +[44] SLEEPING ON HORSEBACK + +[_A.D. 822_] + + + We had rode long and were still far from the inn; + My eyes grew dim; for a moment I fell asleep. + Under my right arm the whip still dangled; + In my left hand the reins for an instant slackened. + Suddenly I woke and turned to question my groom: + "We have gone a hundred paces since you fell asleep." + Body and spirit for a while had exchanged place; + Swift and slow had turned to their contraries. + For these few steps that my horse had carried me + Had taken in my dream countless aeons of time! + True indeed is that saying of Wise Men + "A hundred years are but a moment of sleep." + + + + +[45] PARTING FROM THE WINTER STOVE + +[_A.D. 822_] + + + On the fifth day after the rise of Spring, + Everywhere the season's gracious altitudes! + The white sun gradually lengthening its course, + The blue-grey clouds hanging as though they would fall; + The last icicle breaking into splinters of jade; + The new stems marshalling red sprouts. + The things I meet are all full of gladness; + It is not only _I_ who love the Spring. + To welcome the flowers I stand in the back garden; + To enjoy the sunlight I sit under the front eaves. + Yet still in my heart there lingers one regret; + Soon I shall part with the flame of my red stove! + + + + +[46] GOOD-BYE TO THE PEOPLE OF HANGCHOW + +[_A.D. 824_] + + + Elders and officers line the returning road; + Wine and soup load the parting table. + I have not ruled you with the wisdom of Shao Kung;[1] + What is the reason your tears should fall so fast? + My taxes were heavy, though many of the people were poor; + The farmers were hungry, for often their fields were dry. + All I did was to dam the water of the Lake[2] + And help a little in a year when things were bad. + +[1] A legendary ruler who dispensed justice sitting under a wild +pear-tree. + +[2] Po Ch-i built the dam on the Western Lake which is still known as +"Po's dam." + + + + +[47] WRITTEN WHEN GOVERNOR OF SOOCHOW + +[_A.D. 825_] + + + A Government building, not my own home. + A Government garden, not my own trees. + But at Lo-yang I have a small house + And on Wei River I have built a thatched hut. + I am free from the ties of marrying and giving in marriage; + If I choose to retire, I have somewhere to end my days. + And though I have lingered long beyond my time, + To retire now would be better than not at all! + + + + +[48] GETTING UP EARLY ON A SPRING MORNING + +[_Part of a poem written when Governor of Soochow in 825_] + + + The early light of the rising sun shines on the beams of my house; + The first banging of opened doors echoes like the roll of a drum. + The dog lies curled on the stone step, for the earth is wet with dew; + The birds come near to the window and chatter, telling that the day + is fine. + With the lingering fumes of yesterday's wine my head is still heavy; + With new doffing of winter clothes my body has grown light. + + + + +[49] LOSING A SLAVE-GIRL + +[_Date uncertain_] + + + Around my garden the little wall is low; + In the bailiff's lodge the lists are seldom checked. + I am ashamed to think we were not always kind; + I regret your labours, that will never be repaid. + The caged bird owes no allegiance; + The wind-tossed flower does not cling to the tree. + + * * * * * + + Where to-night she lies none can give us news; + Nor any knows, save the bright watching moon. + + + + +[50] THE GRAND HOUSES AT LO-YANG + +[_Circa A.D. 829_] + + + By woods and water, whose houses are these + With high gates and wide-stretching lands? + From their blue gables gilded fishes hang; + By their red pillars carven coursers run. + Their spring arbours, warm with caged mist; + Their autumn yards with locked moonlight cold. + To the stem of the pine-tree amber beads cling; + The bamboo-branches ooze ruby-drops. + Of lake and terrace who may the masters be? + Staff-officers, Councillors-of-State. + All their lives they have never come to see, + But know their houses only from the bailiff's map! + + + + +[51] THE CRANES + +[_A.D. 830_] + + + The western wind has blown but a few days; + Yet the first leaf already flies from the bough. + On the drying paths I walk in my thin shoes; + In the first cold I have donned my quilted coat. + Through shallow ditches the floods are clearing away; + Through sparse bamboos trickles a slanting light. + In the early dusk, down an alley of green moss, + The garden-boy is leading the cranes home. + + + + +[52] ON HIS BALDNESS + +[_A.D. 832_] + + + At dawn I sighed to see my hairs fall; + At dusk I sighed to see my hairs fall. + For I dreaded the time when the last lock should go ... + They are all gone and I do not mind at all! + I have done with that cumbrous washing and getting dry; + My tiresome comb for ever is laid aside. + Best of all, when the weather is hot and wet, + To have no top-knot weighing down on one's head! + I put aside my dusty conical cap; + And loose my collar-fringe. + In a silver jar I have stored a cold stream; + On my bald pate I trickle a ladle-full. + Like one baptized with the Water of Buddha's Law, + I sit and receive this cool, cleansing joy. + _Now_ I know why the priest who seeks Repose + Frees his heart by first shaving his head. + + + + +[53] THINKING OF THE PAST + +[_A.D. 833_] + + + In an idle hour I thought of former days; + And former friends seemed to be standing in the room. + And then I wondered "Where are they now?" + Like fallen leaves they have tumbled to the Nether Springs. + Han Y[1] swallowed his sulphur pills, + Yet a single illness carried him straight to the grave. + Yan Chen1 smelted autumn stone[2] + But before he was old, his strength crumbled away. + Master Tu possessed the "Secret of Health": + All day long he fasted from meat and spice. + The Lord Ts`ui, trusting a strong drug, + Through the whole winter wore his summer coat. + Yet some by illness and some by sudden death ... + All vanished ere their middle years were passed. + + Only I, who have never dieted myself + Have thus protracted a tedious span of age, + I who in young days + Yielded lightly to every lust and greed; + Whose palate craved only for the richest meat + And knew nothing of bismuth or calomel. + When hunger came, I gulped steaming food; + When thirst came, I drank from the frozen stream. + With verse I served the spirits of my Five Guts;[3] + With wine I watered the three Vital Spots. + Day by day joining the broken clod + I have lived till now almost sound and whole. + There is no gap in my two rows of teeth; + Limbs and body still serve me well. + Already I have opened the seventh book of years; + Yet I eat my fill and sleep quietly; + I drink, while I may, the wine that lies in my cup, + And all else commit to Heaven's care. + +[1] The famous poet, d. 824 A.D. + +[2] Carbamide crystals. + +[3] Heart, liver, stomach, lungs and kidney. + + + + +[54] A MAD POEM ADDRESSED TO MY NEPHEWS AND NIECES + +[_A.D. 835_] + + + The World cheats those who cannot read; + _I_, happily, have mastered script and pen. + The World cheats those who hold no office; + _I_ am blessed with high official rank. + The old are often ill; + _I_, at this day have not an ache or pain. + They are often burdened with ties; + But _I_ have finished with marriage and giving in marriage. + No changes happen to disturb the quiet of my mind; + No business comes to impair the vigour of my limbs. + Hence it is that now for ten years + Body and soul have rested in hermit peace. + And all the more, in the last lingering years + What I shall need are very few things. + A single rug to warm me through the winter; + One meal to last me the whole day. + It does not matter that my house is rather small; + One cannot sleep in more than one room! + It does not matter that I have not many horses; + One cannot ride in two coaches at once! + As fortunate as me among the people of the world + Possibly one would find seven out of ten. + As contented as me among a hundred men + Look as you may, you will not find one. + In the affairs of others even fools are wise; + In their own business even sages err. + To no one else would I dare to speak my heart, + So my wild words are addressed to my nephews and nieces. + + + + +[55] OLD AGE + +[_Addressed to Liu Y-hsi, who was born in the same year_] + +[_A.D. 835_] + + + We are growing old together, you and I, + Let us ask ourselves, what is age like? + The dull eye is closed ere night comes; + The idle head, still uncombed at noon. + Propped on a staff, sometimes a walk abroad; + Or all day sitting with closed doors. + One dares not look in the mirror's polished face; + One cannot read small-letter books. + Deeper and deeper, one's love of old friends; + Fewer and fewer, one's dealings with young men. + One thing only, the pleasure of idle talk, + Is great as ever, when you and I meet. + + + + +[56] TO A TALKATIVE GUEST + +[_A.D. 836_] + + + The town visitor's easy talk flows in an endless stream; + The country host's quiet thoughts ramble timidly on. + "I beg you, Sir, do not tell me about things at Ch`ang-an; + For you entered just when my harp was tuned and lying balanced on + my knees." + + + + +[57] TO LIU YU-HSI + +[_A.D. 838_] + + + In length of days and soundness of limb you and I are one; + Our eyes are not wholly blind, nor our ears quite deaf. + Deep drinking we lie together, fellows of a spring day; + Or gay-hearted boldly break into gatherings of young men. + When, seeking flowers, we borrowed his horse, the river-keeper was + vexed; + When, to play on the water, we stole his boat, the Duke Ling was sore. + I hear it said that in Lo-yang, people are all shocked, + And call us by the name of "Liu and Po, those two mad old men." + + + + +[58] MY SERVANT WAKES ME + +[_A.D. 839_] + + + My servant wakes me: "Master, it is broad day. + Rise from bed; I bring you bowl and comb. + Winter comes and the morning air is chill; + To-day your Honour must not venture abroad." + When I stay at home, no one comes to call; + What must I do with the long, idle hours? + Setting my chair where a faint sunshine falls + I have warmed wine and opened my poetry-books. + + + + +[59] SINCE I LAY ILL + +[_A.D. 840_] + + + Since I lay ill, how long has passed? + Almost a hundred heavy-hanging days. + The maids have learnt to gather my medicine-herbs; + The dog no longer barks when the doctor comes. + The jars in my cellar are plastered deep with mould; + My singer's carpets are half crumbled to dust. + How can I bear, when the Earth renews her light, + To watch from a pillow the beauty of Spring unfold? + + + + +[60] SONG OF PAST FEELINGS [With Preface] + +[_Circa A.D. 840_] + + +When Lo-t`ien[1] was old, he fell ill of a palsy. So he made a list of +his possessions and examined his expenses, that he might reject whatever +had become superfluous. He had in his employ a girl about twenty years +old called Fan Su, whose postures delighted him when she sang or danced. +But above all she excelled in singing the "Willow-Branch," so that many +called her by the name of this song, and she was well known by this name +in the town of Lo-yang. But she was on the list of unnecessary expenses +and was to be sent away. + +He had too a white horse with black mane, sturdy and sure-footed, which +he had ridden for many years. It stood on the list of things which could +be dispensed with, and was to be sold. When the groom led the horse +through the gate, it tossed its head and looked back, neighing once with +a sound in its voice that seemed to say: "I know I am leaving you and +long to stay." Su, when she heard the horse neigh, rose timidly, bowed +before me and spoke sweetly, as shall hereafter be shown. When she had +done speaking her tears fell. + +When first I heard Su's words, I was too sad to speak and could not +answer her. But in a little while I ordered the bridle to be turned and +the sleeve reversed.[1] Then I gave her wine and drank a cup myself, and +in my happiness sang a few score notes. And these notes turned into a +poem, a poem without fixed measure, for the measure followed my +irregular tune. In all there were 255 words. + +Alas! I am no Sage. I could neither forget past feelings nor show such +sensibility as this beast reputed incapable of feeling! Things that +happen lay hold of my heart, and when my heart is moved, I cannot +control it. Therefore, smiling at myself, I called this song "A Song of +Past Feelings Unforgotten." + +The Song says: + + _I was selling my white horse + And sending Willow Branch away. + She covered her dark eyebrows; + He trailed his golden halter. + The horse, for want of speech, + Neighed long and turned his head; + And Willow Branch, twice bowing, + Knelt long and spoke to me: + "Master, you have ridden this horse five years, + One thousand eight hundred days; + Meekly he has borne the bit, + Without shying, without bolting. + And I have served you for ten years, + Three thousand and six hundred days; + Patient carrier of towel and comb,[2] + Without complaint, without loss. + And now, though my shape is lowly, + I am still fresh and strong. + And the colt is still in his prime, + Without lameness or fault. + Why should you not use the colt's strength + To replace your sick legs? + Why should you not use my song to gladden your casual cup? + Need you in one morning send both away, + Send them away never to return? + This is what Su would say to you before she goes, + And this is what your horse meant also + When he neighed at the gate. + Seeing my distress, who am a woman, + And hearing its cries, that is but a horse, + Shall our master alone remain pitiless?"_ + +I looked up and sighed: I looked down and laughed. Then I said: + + _"Dear horse, stop your sad cries! + Sweet Su, dry your bitter tears! + For you shall go back to your stall; + And you to the women's room. + For though I am ill indeed, + And though my years are at their close, + The doom of Hsiang Chi[3] has not befallen me yet. + Must I in a single day + Lose the horse I rode and the lady I loved? + Su, O Su! + Sing once again the Song of the Willow Branch! + And I will pour you wine in that golden cup + And take you with me to the Land of Drunkenness."_ + +[1] I.e., Po Ch-i himself. + +[2] I.e., performing the functions of a wife. + +[3] Who, surrounded at the battle of Kai-hsia (202 B.C.), gave his horse +to a boatman, lest it should fall into the hands of the enemy. + + + + +[61] ILLNESS + +[_Written circa 842, when he was paralyzed_] + + + Dear friends, there is no cause for so much sympathy. + I shall certainly manage from time to time to take my walks abroad. + All that matters is an active mind, what is the use of feet? + By land one can ride in a carrying-chair; by water, be rowed in a boat. + + + + +[62] RESIGNATION + + + Keep off your thoughts from things that are past and done; + For thinking of the past wakes regret and pain. + Keep off your thoughts from thinking what will happen; + To think of the future fills one with dismay. + Better by day to sit like a sack in your chair; + Better by night to lie a stone in your bed. + When food comes, then open your mouth; + When sleep comes, then close your eyes. + + + + +YAN CHEN + +[_A.D. 799-831_] + + + + +[63] THE STORY OF TS`UI YING-YING + + +During the Cheng1-Yan[1] period of the T`ang dynasty there lived a +man called Chang.[2] His nature was gentle and refined, and his person +of great beauty. But his deeper feelings were resolutely held in +restraint, and he would indulge in no license. Sometimes his friends +took him to a party and he would try to join their frolics; but when the +rest were shouting and scuffling their hardest, Chang only pretended to +take his share. For he could never overcome his shyness. So it came +about that though already twenty-three, he had not yet enjoyed a woman's +beauty. To those who questioned him he answered, "It is not such as +Master Teng1-t'u[3] who are true lovers of beauty; for they are merely +profligates. I consider myself a lover of beauty, who happens never to +have met with it. And I am of this opinion because I know that, in other +things, whatever is beautiful casts its spell upon me; so that I cannot +be devoid of feeling." His questioners only laughed. + +[1] A.D. 785-805. + +[2] I.e., Yan Chen1 himself. + +[3] Type of the indiscriminate lover, fourth century B.C. + +About this time Chang went to Puchow. Some two miles east of the town +there is a temple called the P`-u-chiu-ssu, and here he took up his +lodging. Now it happened that at this time the widow of a certain Ts`ui +was returning to Ch`ang-an.[4] She passed through Puchow on her way and +stayed at the same temple. + +[4] The capital of China at that time; now called Hsi-an-fu. + +This lady was born of the Cheng1 family and Chang's mother was also a +Cheng1. He unravelled their relationship and found that they were +second-cousins. + +This year General Hun-Chan[5] died at Puchow. There was a certain +Colonel Ting Wen1-ya who ill-treated his troops. The soldiers +accordingly made Hun Chan's funeral the occasion of a mutiny, and began +to plunder the town. The Ts`ui family had brought with them much +valuable property and many slaves. Subjected to this sudden danger when +far from home, they had no one from whom they could seek protection. + +[5] B. A.D. 735; d. 799. Famous for his campaigns against the Tibetans +and Uighurs. + +Now it happened that Chang had been friendly with the political party to +which the commander at Puchow belonged. At his request a guard was sent +to the temple and no disorder took place there. A few days afterwards +the Civil Commissioner Tu Chio was ordered by the Emperor to take over +the command of the troops. The mutineers then laid down their arms. + +The widow Cheng1 was very sensible of the service which Chang had +rendered. She therefore provided dainties and invited him to a banquet +in the middle hall. At table she turned to him and said, "I, your +cousin, a lonely and widowed relict, had young ones in my care. If we +had fallen into the hands of the soldiery, I could not have helped them. +Therefore the lives of my little boy and young daughter were saved by +your protection, and they owe you eternal gratitude. I will now cause +them to kneel before you, their merciful cousin, that they may thank you +for your favours." First she sent for her son, Huan-lang, who was about +ten years old, a handsome and gentle child. Then she called to her +daughter, Ying-ying: "Come and bow to your cousin. Your cousin saved +your life." For a long while she would not come, saying that she was +not well. The widow grew angry and cried: "Your cousin saved your life. +But for his help, you would now be a prisoner. How can you treat him so +rudely?" + +At last she came in, dressed in everyday clothes, with a look of deep +unhappiness in her face. She had not put on any ornaments. Her hair hung +down in coils, the black of her two eyebrows joined, her cheeks were not +rouged. But her features were of exquisite beauty and shone with an +almost dazzling lustre. + +Chang bowed to her, amazed. She sat down by her mother's side and looked +all the time towards her, turning from him with a fixed stare of +aversion, as though she could not endure his presence. + +He asked how old she was. The widow answered, "She was born in the year +of the present Emperor's reign that was a year of the Rat, and now it is +the year of the Dragon in the period Cheng1-yan.[6] So she must be +seventeen years old." + +[6] I.e., A.D. 800. + +Chang tried to engage her in conversation, but she would not answer, and +soon the dinner was over. He was passionately in love with her and +wanted to tell her so, but could find no way. + +Ying-ying had a maid-servant called Hung-niang, whom Chang sometimes met +and greeted. Once he stopped her and was beginning to tell her of his +love for her mistress; but she was frightened and ran away. Then Chang +was sorry he had not kept silence. + +Next day he met Hung-niang again, but was ashamed and did not say what +was in his mind. But this time the maid herself broached the subject and +said to Chang, "Master, I dare not tell her what you told me, or even +hint at it. But since your mother was a kinswoman of the Ts`uis, why do +you not seek my mistress's hand on that plea?" + +Chang said, "Since I was a child in arms, my nature has been averse to +intimacy. Sometimes I have idled with wearers of silk and gauze, but my +fancy was never once detained. I little thought that in the end I should +be entrapped. + +"Lately at the banquet I could scarcely contain myself; and since then, +when I walk, I forget where I am going and when I eat, I forget to +finish my meal, and do not know how to endure the hours from dawn to +dusk. + +"If we were to get married through a matchmaker and perform the +ceremonies of Sending Presents and Asking Names, it would take many +months, and by that time you would have to look for me 'in the +dried-fish shop.' What is the use of giving me such advice as that?" + +The maid replied, "My mistress clings steadfastly to her chastity, and +even an equal could not trip her with lewd talk. Much less may she be +won through the stratagems of a maid-servant. But she is skilled in +composition, and often when she has made a poem or essay, she is +restless and dissatisfied for a long while after. You must try to +provoke her by a love-poem. There is no other way." + +Chang was delighted and at once composed two Spring Poems to send her. +Hung-niang took them away and came back the same evening with a coloured +tablet, which she gave to Chang, saying, "This is from my mistress." It +bore the title "The Bright Moon of the Fifteenth Night." The words ran: + + _To wait for the moon I am sitting in the western parlour; + To greet the wind, I have left the door ajar. + When a flower's shadow stirred and brushed the wall, + For a moment I thought it the shadow of a lover coming._ + +Chang could not doubt her meaning. That night was the fourth after the +first decade of the second month. Beside the eastern wall of Ts`ui's +apartments there grew an apricot-tree; by climbing it one could cross +the wall. On the next night (which was the night of the full moon) Chang +used the tree as a ladder and crossed the wall. He went straight to the +western parlour and found the door ajar. Hung-niang lay asleep on the +bed. He woke her, and she cried in a voice of astonishment, "Master +Chang, what are you doing here?" Chang answered, half-truly: "Ts`ui's +letter invited me. Tell her I have come." Hung-niang soon returned, +whispering, "She is coming, she is coming." Chang was both delighted and +surprised, thinking that his salvation was indeed at hand. + +At last Ts`ui entered. + +Her dress was sober and correct, and her face was stern. She at once +began to reprimand Chang, saying, "I am grateful for the service which +you rendered to my family. You gave support to my dear mother when she +was at a loss how to save her little boy and young daughter. How came +you to send me a wicked message by the hand of a low maid-servant? In +protecting me from the license of others, you acted nobly. But now that +you wish to make me a partner to your own licentious desires, you are +asking me to accept one wrong in exchange for another. + +"How was I to repel this advance? I would gladly have hidden your +letter, but it would have been immoral to harbour a record of illicit +proposals. Had I shown it to my mother, I should ill have requited the +debt we owe you. Were I to entrust a message of refusal to a servant or +concubine, I feared it might not be truly delivered. I thought of +writing a letter to tell you what I felt; but I was afraid I might not +be able to make you understand. So I sent those trivial verses, that I +might be sure of your coming. I have no cause to be ashamed of an +irregularity which had no other object but the preservation of my +chastity." + +With these words she vanished. Chang remained for a long while petrified +with astonishment. At last he climbed back over the wall and went home +in despair. + +Several nights after this he was lying asleep near the verandah, when +some one suddenly woke him. He rose with a startled sigh and found that +Hung-niang was there, with bedclothes under her arm and a pillow in her +hand. She shook Chang, saying, "She is coming, she is coming. Why are +you asleep?" Then she arranged the bedclothes and pillow and went away. + +Chang sat up and rubbed his eyes. For a long while he thought he must be +dreaming, but he assumed a respectful attitude and waited. + +Suddenly Hung-niang came back, bringing her mistress with her. Ts`ui, +this time, was languid and flushed, yielding and wanton in her air, as +though her strength could scarcely support her limbs. Her former +severity had utterly disappeared. + +That night was the eighth of the second decade. The crystal beams of the +sinking moon twinkled secretly across their bed. Chang, in a strange +exaltation, half-believed that a fairy had come to him, and not a child +of mortal men. + +At last the temple bell sounded, dawn glimmered in the sky and +Hung-niang came back to fetch her mistress away. Ts`ui turned on her +side with a pretty cry, and followed her maid to the door. + +The whole night she had not spoken a word. + +Chang rose when it was half-dark, still thinking that perhaps it had +been a dream. But when it grew light, he saw her powder on his arm and +smelt her perfume in his clothes. A tear she had shed still glittered on +the mattress. + +For more than ten days afterwards he did not see her again. During this +time he began to make a poem called "Meeting a Fairy," in thirty +couplets. It was not yet finished, when he chanced to meet Hung-niang in +the road. He asked her to take the poem to Ts`ui. + +After this Ts`ui let him come to her, and for a month or more he crept +out at dawn and in at dusk, the two of them living together in that +western parlour of which I spoke before. + +Chang often asked her what her mother thought of him. Ts`ui said, "I +know she would not oppose my will. So why should we not get married at +once?" + +Soon afterwards, Chang had to go to the capital. Before starting, he +tenderly informed her of his departure. She did not reproach him, but +her face showed pitiable distress. On the night before he started, he +was not able to see her. + +After spending a few months in the west, Chang returned to Puchow and +again lodged for several months in the same building as the Ts`uis. He +made many attempts to see Ying-ying alone, but she would not let him do +so. Remembering that she was fond of calligraphy and verse, he +frequently sent her his own compositions, but she scarcely glanced at +them. + +It was characteristic of her that when any situation was at its acutest +point, she appeared quite unconscious of it. She talked glibly, but +would seldom answer a question. She expected absolute devotion, but +herself gave no encouragement. + +Sometimes when she was in the depth of despair, she would affect all the +while to be quite indifferent. It was rarely possible to know from her +face whether she was pleased or sorry. + +One night Chang came upon her unawares when she was playing on the harp, +with a touch full of passion. But when she saw him coming, she stopped +playing. This incident increased his infatuation. + +Soon afterwards, it became time for him to compete in the Literary +Examinations, and he was obliged once more to set out for the western +capital. + +The evening before his departure, he sat in deep despondency by Ts`ui's +side, but did not try again to tell her of his love. Nor had he told her +that he was going away, but she seemed to have guessed it, and with +submissive face and gentle voice, she said to him softly: "Those whom a +man leads astray, he will in the end abandon. It must be so, and I will +not reproach you. You deigned to corrupt me and now you deign to leave +me. That is all. And your vows of 'faithfulness till death'--they too +are cancelled. There is no need for you to grieve at this parting, but +since I see you so sad and can give you no other comfort--you once +praised my harp-playing; but I was bashful and would not play to you. +Now I am bolder, and if you choose, I will play you a tune." + +She took her harp and began the prelude to "Rainbow Skirts and Feather +Jackets."[7] But after a few bars the tune broke off into a wild and +passionate dirge. + +[7] A gay, court tune of the eighth century. + +All who were present caught their breath; but in a moment she stopped +playing, threw down her harp and, weeping bitterly, ran to her mother's +room. + +She did not come back. + +Next morning Chang left. The following year he failed in his +examinations and could not leave the capital. So, to unburden his heart, +he wrote a letter to Ts`ui. She answered him somewhat in this fashion: +"I have read your letter and cherish it dearly. It has filled my heart +half with sorrow, half with joy. You sent with it a box of garlands and +five sticks of paste, that I may decorate my head and colour my lips. + +"I thank you for your presents; but there is no one now to care how I +look. Seeing these things only makes me think of you and grieve the +more. + +"You say that you are prospering in your career at the capital, and I am +comforted by that news. But it makes me fear you will never come back +again to one who is so distant and humble. But _that_ is settled +forever, and it is no use talking of it. + +"Since last autumn I have lived in a dazed stupor. Amid the clamour of +the daytime, I have sometimes forced myself to laugh and talk; but alone +at night I have done nothing but weep. Or, if I have fallen asleep my +dreams have always been full of the sorrows of parting. Often I dreamt +that you came to me as you used to do, but always before the moment of +our joy your phantom vanished from my side. Yet, though we are still +bedfellows in my dreams, when I wake and think of it the time when we +were together seems very far off. For since we parted, the old year has +slipped away and a new year has begun.... + +"Ch`ang-an is a city of pleasure, where there are many snares to catch a +young man's heart. How can I hope that you will not forget one so +sequestered and insignificant as I? And indeed, if you were to be +faithful, so worthless a creature could never requite you. But our vows +of unending love--those _I_ at least can fulfil. + +"Because you are my cousin, I met you at the feast. Lured by a +maid-servant, I visited you in private. A girl's heart is not in her own +keeping. You 'tempted me by your ballads'[8] and I could not bring +myself to 'throw the shuttle.'[9] + +[8] As Ssu-ma tempted Cho Wen1-chn, second century B.C. + +[9] As the neighbour's daughter did to Hsieh Kun (A.D. fourth century), +in order to repel his advances. + +"Then came the sharing of pillow and mat, the time of perfect loyalty +and deepest tenderness. And I, being young and foolish, thought it would +never end. + +"Now, having 'seen my Prince,'[10] I cannot love again; nor, branded by +the shame of self-surrender, am I fit to perform 'the service of towel +and comb';[11] and of the bitterness of the long celibacy which awaits +me, what need is there to speak? + +[10] Odes I. 1., X. 2. + +[11] = become a bride. + +"The good man uses his heart; and if by chance his gaze has fallen on +the humble and insignificant, till the day of his death, he continues +the affections of his life. The cynic cares nothing for people's +feelings. He will discard the small to follow the great, look upon a +former mistress merely as an accomplice in sin, and hold that the most +solemn vows are made only to be broken. He will reverse all natural +laws--as though Nature should suddenly let bone dissolve, while cinnabar +resisted the fire. The dew that the wind has shaken from the tree still +looks for kindness from the dust; and such, too, is the sum of _my_ +hopes and fears. + +"As I write, I am shaken by sobs and cannot tell you all that is in my +heart. My darling, I am sending you a jade ring that I used to play with +when I was a child. I want you to wear it at your girdle, that you may +become firm and flawless as this jade, and, in your affections, unbroken +as the circuit of this ring. + +"And with it I am sending a skein of thread and a tea-trough of flecked +bamboo. There is no value in these few things. I send them only to +remind you to keep your heart pure as jade and your affection unending +as this round ring. The bamboo is mottled as if with tears, and the +thread is tangled as the thoughts of those who are in sorrow. By these +tokens I seek no more than that, knowing the truth, you may think kindly +of me for ever. + +"Our hearts are very near, but our bodies are far apart. There is no +time fixed for our meeting; yet a secret longing can unite souls that +are separated by a thousand miles. + +"Protect yourself against the cold spring wind, eat well--look after +yourself in all ways and do not worry too much about your worthless +handmaid, + + TS`UI YING-YING." + +Chang showed this letter to his friends and so the story became known to +many who lived at that time. All who heard it were deeply moved; but +Chang, to their disappointment, declared that he meant to break with +Ts`ui. Yan Chen1, of Honan, who knew Chang well, asked him why he had +made this decision. + +Chang answered: + +"I have observed that in Nature whatever has perfect beauty is either +itself liable to sudden transformations or else is the cause of them in +others. If Ts`ui were to marry a rich gentleman and become his pet, she +would forever be changing, as the clouds change to rain, or as the scaly +dragon turns into the horned dragon. I, for one, could never keep pace +with her transformations. + +"Of old, Hsin of the Yin dynasty and Yu of the Chou dynasty ruled over +kingdoms of many thousand chariots, and their strength was very great. +Yet a single woman brought them to ruin, dissipating their hosts and +leading these monarchs to the assassin's knife. So that to this day they +are a laughing-stock to all the world. I know that my constancy could +not withstand such spells, and that is why I have curbed my passion." + +At these words all who were present sighed deeply. + +A few years afterwards Ts`ui married some one else and Chang also found +a wife. Happening once to pass the house where Ts`ui was living, he +called on her husband and asked to see her, saying he was her cousin. +The husband sent for her, but she would not come. Chang's vexation +showed itself in his face. Some one told Ts`ui of this and she secretly +wrote the poem: + + _Since I have grown so lean, my face has lost its beauty. + I have tossed and turned so many times that I am too tired to leave + my bed. + It is not that I mind the others seeing + How ugly I have grown; + It is _you_ who have caused me to lose my beauty, + Yet it is _you_ I am ashamed should see me!_ + + +Chang went away without meeting her, and a few days afterwards, when he +was leaving the town, wrote a poem of final farewell, which said: + + _You cannot say that you are abandoned and deserted; + For you have found some one to love you. + Why do you not convert your broodings over the past + Into kindness to your present husband?_ + +After that they never heard of one another again. Many of Chang's +contemporaries praised the skill with which he extricated himself from +this entanglement. + + + + +[64] THE PITCHER + +[_A.D. 779-831_] + + + I dreamt I climbed to a high, high plain; + And on the plain I found a deep well. + My throat was dry with climbing and I longed to drink; + And my eyes were eager to look into the cool shaft. + I walked round it; I looked right down; + I saw my image mirrored on the face of the pool. + An earthen pitcher was sinking into the black depths; + There was no rope to pull it to the well-head. + I was strangely troubled lest the pitcher should be lost, + And started wildly running to look for help. + From village to village I scoured that high plain; + The men were gone: the dogs leapt at my throat. + I came back and walked weeping round the well; + Faster and faster the blinding tears flowed-- + Till my own sobbing suddenly woke me up; + My room was silent; no one in the house stirred; + The flame of my candle flickered with a green smoke; + The tears I had shed glittered in the candle-light. + A bell sounded; I knew it was the midnight-chime; + I sat up in bed and tried to arrange my thoughts: + The plain in my dream was the graveyard at Ch`ang-an, + Those hundred acres of untilled land. + The soil heavy and the mounds heaped high; + And the dead below them laid in deep troughs. + Deep are the troughs, yet sometimes dead men + Find their way to the world above the grave. + And to-night my love who died long ago + Came into my dream as the pitcher sunk in the well. + That was why the tears suddenly streamed from my eyes, + Streamed from my eyes and fell on the collar of my dress. + + + + +PO HSING-CHIEN + +[_A.D. 799-831_] + +[_Brother_ of Po-Ch-i] + + + + +[65] THE STORY OF MISS LI + + +Miss Li, ennobled with the title "Lady of Ch`ien-kuo," was once a +prostitute in Ch`ang-an. The devotion of her conduct was so remarkable +that I have thought it worth while to record her story. In the T`ien-pao +era[1] there was a certain nobleman, Governor of Ch`ang-chou and Lord of +Jung-yang, whose name and surname I will omit. He was a man of great +wealth and highly esteemed by all. He had passed his fiftieth year and +had a son who was close on twenty, a boy who in literary talent +outstripped all his companions. His father was proud of him and had +great hopes of his future. "This," he would say, "is the +'thousand-league colt' of our family." When the time came for the lad to +compete at the Provincial Examinations, his father gave him fine clothes +and a handsome coach with richly caparisoned horses for the journey; and +to provide for his expense at the Capital, he gave him a large sum of +money, saying, "I am sure that your talent is such that you will succeed +at the first attempt; but I am giving you two years' supply, that you +may pursue your career free from all anxiety." The young man was also +quite confident and saw himself getting the first place as clearly as he +saw the palm of his own hand. + +[1] A.D. 742-56. + +Starting from P`i-ling[2] he reached Ch`ang-an in a few weeks and took a +house in the Pu-cheng1 quarter. One day he was coming back from a +visit to the Eastern Market. He entered the City by the eastern gate of +P`ing-k`ang and was going to visit a friend who lived in the +south-western part of the town. When he reached the Ming-k`o Bend, he +saw a house of which the gate and courtyard were rather narrow; but the +house itself was stately and stood well back from the road. One of the +double doors was open, and at it stood a lady, attended by her +maid-servant. She was of exquisite, bewitching beauty, such as the world +has seldom produced. + +[2] In Kiang-su, near Ch`ang-chou. + +When he saw her, the young man unconsciously reined in his horse and +hesitated. Unable to leave the spot, he purposely let his whip fall to +the ground and waited for his servant to pick it up, all the time +staring at the lady in the doorway. She too was staring and met his gaze +with a look that seemed to be an answer to his admiration. But in the +end he went away without daring to speak to her. + +But he could not put the thought of her out of his mind and secretly +begged those of his friends who were most expert in the pleasures of +Ch`ang-an to tell him what they knew of the girl. He learnt from them +that the house belonged to a low and unprincipled woman named Li. When +he asked what chance he had of winning the daughter, they answered: "The +woman Li is possessed of considerable property, for her previous +dealings have been with wealthy and aristocratic families, from whom she +has received enormous sums. Unless you are willing to spend many +thousand pounds, the daughter will have nothing to do with you." + +The young man answered: "All I care about is to win her. I do not mind +if she costs a million pounds." The next day he set out in his best +clothes, with many servants riding behind him, and knocked at the door +of Mrs. Li's house. Immediately a page-boy drew the bolt. The young man +asked, "Can you tell me whose house this is?" The boy did not answer, +but ran back into the house and called out at the top of his voice, +"Here is the gentleman who dropped his whip the other day!" + +Miss Li was evidently very much pleased. He heard her saying, "Be sure +not to let him go away. I am just going to do my hair and change my +clothes; I will be back in a minute." The young man, in high spirits, +followed the page-boy into the house. A white-haired old lady was going +upstairs, whom he took to be the girl's mother. Bowing low, the young +man addressed her as follows: "I am told that you have a vacant plot of +land, which you would be willing to let as building-ground. Is that +true?" The old lady answered, "I am afraid the site is too mean and +confined; it would be quite unsuitable for a gentleman's house. I should +not like to offer it to you." She then took him into the guest-room, +which was a very handsome one, and asked him to be seated, saying, "I +have a daughter who has little either of beauty or accomplishment, but +she is fond of seeing strangers. I should like you to meet her." + +So saying, she called for her daughter, who presently entered. Her eyes +sparkled with such fire, her arms were so dazzling white and there was +in her movements such an exquisite grace that the young man could only +leap to his feet in confusion and did not dare raise his eyes. When +their salutations were over, he began to make a few remarks about the +weather; and realized as he did so that her beauty was of a kind he had +never encountered before. + +They sat down again. Tea was made and wine poured out. The vessels used +were spotlessly clean. He lingered till the day was almost over; the +curfew-drum sounded its four beats. The old lady asked if he lived far +away. He answered untruthfully, "Several leagues beyond the Yen-p`ing +Gate," hoping that they would ask him to stay. The old lady said, "The +drum has sounded. You will have to go back at once, unless you mean to +break the law." + +The young man answered, "I was being so agreeably entertained that I did +not notice how rapidly the day had fled. My house is a long way off and +in the city I have no friends or relations. What am I to do?" Miss Li +then interposed, saying, "If you can forgive the meanness of our poor +home, what harm would there be in your spending the night with us?" He +looked doubtfully at the girl's mother, but met with no discouragement. + +Calling his servants, he gave them money and told them to buy provisions +for the night. But the girl laughingly stopped him, saying, "That is not +the way guests are entertained. Our humble house will provide for your +wants to-night, if you are willing to partake of our simple fare and +defer your bounty to another occasion." He tried to refuse, but in the +end she would not allow him to, and they all moved to the western hall. +The curtains, screens, blinds and couches were of dazzling splendour; +while the toilet-boxes, rugs, and pillows were of the utmost elegance. +Candles were lighted and an excellent supper was served. + +After supper the old lady retired, leaving the lovers engaged in the +liveliest conversation, laughing and chattering completely at their +ease. + +After a while the young man said: "I passed your house the other day and +you happened to be standing at the door. And after that, I could think +of nothing but you; whether I lay down to rest or sat down to eat, I +could not stop thinking of you." She laughed and answered: "It was just +the same with me." He said: "You must know that I did not come to-day +simply to look for building-land. I came hoping that you would fulfil +my lifelong desire; but I was not sure how you would welcome me. What--" + +He had not finished speaking when the old woman came back and asked what +they were saying. When they told her, she laughed and said, "Has not +Mencius written that 'the relationship between men and women is the +ground-work of society'? When lovers are agreed, not even the mandate of +a parent will deter them. But my daughter is of humble birth. Are you +sure that she is fit to 'present pillow and mat' to a great man?" + +He came down from the das and, bowing low, begged that she would accept +him as her slave. Henceforward the old lady regarded him as her +son-in-law; they drank heavily together and finally parted. Next morning +he had all his boxes and bags brought round to Mrs. Li's house and +settled there permanently. Henceforward he shut himself up with his +mistress and none of his friends ever heard of him. He consorted only +with actors and dancers and low people of that kind, passing the time in +wild sports and wanton feasting. When his money was all spent, he sold +his horses and men-servants. In about a year his money, property, +servants and horses were all gone. + +For some time the old lady's manner towards him had been growing +gradually colder, but his mistress remained as devoted as ever. One day +she said to him, "We have been together a year, but I am still not with +child. They say that the spirit of the Bamboo Grove answers a woman's +prayers as surely as an echo. Let us go to his temple and offer a +libation." + +The young man, not suspecting any plot, was delighted to take her to the +temple, and having pawned his coat to buy sweet wine for the libation, +he went with her and performed the ceremony of prayer. They stayed one +night at the temple and came back next day. Whipping up their donkey, +they soon arrived at the north gate of the P`ing-k`ang quarter. At this +point his mistress turned to him and said, "My aunt's house is in a +turning just near here. How would it be if we were to go there and rest +for a little?" + +He drove on as she directed him, and they had not gone more than a +hundred paces, when he saw the entrance to a spacious carriage-drive. A +servant who belonged to the place came out and stopped the cart, saying, +"This is the entrance." The young man got down and was met by some one +who came out and asked who they were. When told that it was Miss Li, he +went back and announced her. Presently a married lady came out who +seemed to be about forty. She greeted him, saying, "Has my niece +arrived?" Miss Li then got out of the cart and her aunt said to her: +"Why have you not been to see me for so long?" At which they looked at +one another and laughed. Then Miss Li introduced him to her aunt and +when that was over they all went into a side garden near the Western +Halberd Gate. In the middle of the garden was a pagoda, and round it +grew bamboos and trees of every variety, while ponds and summer-houses +added to its air of seclusion. He asked Miss Li if this were her aunt's +estate; she laughed, but did not answer and spoke of something else. + +Tea of excellent quality was served; but when they had been drinking it +for a little while, a messenger came galloping up on a huge Fergana +horse, saying that Miss Li's mother had suddenly been taken very ill and +had already lost consciousness, so that they had better come back as +quickly as possible. + +Miss Li said to her aunt: "I am very much upset. I think I had better +take the horse and ride on ahead. Then I will send it back, and you and +my husband can come along later." The young man was anxious to go with +her, but the aunt and her servants engaged him in conversation, +flourishing their hands in front of him and preventing him from leaving +the garden. The aunt said to him: "No doubt my sister is dead by this +time. You and I ought to discuss together what can be done to help with +the expenses of the burial. What is the use of running off like that? +Stay here and help me to make a plan for the funeral and mourning +ceremonies." + +It grew late; but the messenger had not returned. The aunt said: "I am +surprised he has not come back with the horse. You had better go there +on foot as quickly as possible and see what has happened. I will come on +later." + +The young man set out on foot for Mrs. Li's house. When he got there he +found the gate firmly bolted, locked and sealed. Astounded, he +questioned the neighbors, who told him that the house had only been let +to Mrs. Li and that, the lease having expired, the landlord had now +resumed possession. The old lady, they said, had gone to live elsewhere. +They did not know her new address. + +At first he thought of hurrying back to Hsan-yang and questioning the +aunt; but he found it was too late for him to get there. So he pawned +some of his clothes, and, with the proceeds, bought himself supper and +hired a bed. But he was too angry and distressed to sleep, and did not +once close his eyes from dusk till dawn. Early in the morning he dragged +himself away and went to the "aunt's house." He knocked on the door +repeatedly, but it was breakfast-time and no one answered. At last, when +he had shouted several times at the top of his voice, a footman walked +majestically to the door. The young man nervously mentioned the aunt's +name and asked whether she was at home. The footman replied: "No one of +that name here." "But she lived here yesterday evening," the young man +protested; "why are you trying to deceive me? If she does not live here, +who _does_ the house belong to?" The footman answered: "This is the +residence of His Excellency Mr. Ts`ui. I believe that yesterday some +persons hired a corner of the grounds. I understand that they wished to +entertain a cousin who was coming from a distance. But they were gone +before nightfall." + +The young man, perplexed and puzzled to the point of madness, was +absolutely at a loss what to do next. The best he could think of was to +go to the quarters in Pu-cheng1, where he had installed himself when +he first arrived at Ch`ang-an. The landlord was sympathetic and offered +to feed him. But the young man was too much upset to eat, and having +fasted for three days fell seriously ill. He rapidly grew worse, and the +landlord, fearing he would not recover, had him moved straight to the +undertaker's shop. In a short time the whole of the undertaker's staff +was collected round him, offering sympathy and bringing him food. +Gradually he got better and was able to walk with a stick. + +The undertaker now hired him by the day to hold up the curtains of fine +cloth, by which he earned just enough to support himself. In a few +months he grew quite strong again, but whenever he heard the mourners' +doleful songs, in which they regretted that they could not change places +with the corpse, burst into violent fits of sobbing and shed streams of +tears over which they lost all control, then he used to go home and +imitate their performance. + +Being a man of intelligence, he very soon mastered the art and finally +became the most expert mourner in Ch`ang-an. It happened that there were +two undertakers at this time between whom there was a great rivalry. The +undertaker of the east turned out magnificent hearses and biers, and in +this respect his superiority could not be contested. But the mourners he +provided were somewhat inferior. Hearing of our young man's skill, he +offered him a large sum for his services. The eastern undertaker's +supporters, who were familiar with the repertoire of his company, +secretly taught the young man several fresh tunes and showed him how to +fit the words to them. The lessons went on for several weeks, without +any one being allowed to know of it. At the end of that time the two +undertakers agreed to hold a competitive exhibition of their wares in +T`ien-men1 Street. The loser was to forfeit 50,000 cash to cover the +cost of the refreshments provided. Before the exhibition an agreement +was drawn up and duly signed by witnesses. + +A crowd of several thousand people collected to watch the competition. +The mayor of the quarter got wind of the proceedings and told the chief +of police. The chief of police told the governor of the city. Very soon +all the gentlemen of Ch`ang-an were hurrying to the spot and every house +in the town was empty. The exhibition lasted from dawn till midday. +Coaches, hearses and all kinds of funeral trappings were successively +displayed, but the undertaker of the west could establish no +superiority. Filled with shame, he set up a platform in the south corner +of the square. Presently a man with a long beard came forward, carrying +a hand-bell and attended by several assistants. He wagged his beard, +raised his eyebrows, folded his arms across his chest and bowed. Then, +mounting the platform, he sang the "Dirge of the White Horse." When it +was over, confident of an easy victory, he glared round him, as if to +imply that his opponents had all vanished. He was applauded on every +side and was himself convinced that his talents were a unique product of +the age and could not possibly be called into question. + +After a while the undertaker of the east put together some benches in +the north corner of the square, and a young man in a black hat came +forward, attended by five assistants and carrying a bunch of +hearse-plumes in his hand. It was the young man of our story. + +He adjusted his clothes, looked timidly up and down, and then cleared +his throat and began his tune with an air of great diffidence. + +He sang the dirge "Dew on the Garlic."[3] His voice rose so shrill and +clear that "its echoes shook the forest trees." Before he had finished +the first verse, all who heard were sobbing and hiding their tears. + +[3] See p. 58, "170 Chinese Poems," Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + +When the performance was over, every one made fun of the western +undertaker, and he was so much put out that he immediately removed his +exhibits and retired from the contest. The audience was amazed by the +collapse of the western undertaker and could not imagine where his rival +had procured so remarkable a singer. + +It happened that the Emperor had recently issued an order commanding the +governors of outside provinces to confer with him at the capital at +least once a year. + +At this time the young man's father, who was governor of Ch`ang-chou, +had recently arrived at the capital to make his report. Hearing of the +competition, he and some of his colleagues discarded their official +robes and insignia, and slipped away to join the crowd. With them was an +old servant, who was the husband of the young man's foster-nurse. +Recognizing his foster-son's way of moving and speaking, he was on the +point of accosting him, but not daring to do so, he stood weeping +silently. The father asked him why he was crying, and the servant +replied, "Sir, the young man who is singing reminds me of your lost +son." The father answered: "My son became the prey of robbers, because I +gave him too much money. This cannot be he." So saying, he also began to +weep and, leaving the crowd, returned to his lodging. + +But the old servant went about among the members of the troupe, asking +who it was that had just sung with such skill. They all told him it was +the son of such a one; and when he asked the young man's own name, that +too was unfamiliar, for he was living under an _alias_. The old servant +was so much puzzled that he determined to put the matter to the test for +himself. But when the young man saw his old friend walking towards him, +he winced, turned away his face, and tried to hide in the crowd. The old +man followed him and catching his sleeve, said: "Surely it is you!" Then +they embraced and wept. Presently they went back together to his +father's lodging. But his father abused him, saying: "Your conduct has +disgraced the family. How dare you show your face again?" So saying, he +took him out of the house and led him to the ground between the +Ch`-chiang Pond and the Apricot Gardens. Here he stripped him naked and +thrashed him with his horse-whip, till the young man succumbed to the +pain and collapsed. The father then left him and went away. + +But the young man's singing-master had told some of his friends to +watch what happened to him. When they saw him stretched inanimate on the +ground, they came back and told the other members of the troupe. + +The news occasioned universal lamentation, and two men were despatched +with a reed mat to cover up the body. When they got there they found his +heart still warm, and when they had held him in an upright posture for +some time, his breathing recommenced. So they carried him home between +them and administered liquid food through a reed-pipe. Next morning, he +recovered consciousness; but after several months he was still unable to +move his hands and feet. Moreover, the sores left by his thrashing +festered in so disgusting a manner that his friends found him too +troublesome, and one night deposited him in the middle of the road. +However, the passers-by, harrowed by his condition, never failed to +throw him scraps of food. + +So copious was his diet that in three months he recovered sufficiently +to hobble with a stick. Clad in a linen coat,--which was knotted +together in a hundred places, so that it looked as tattered as a quail's +tail,--and carrying a broken saucer in his hand, he now went about the +idle quarters of the town, earning his living as a professional beggar. + +Autumn had now turned to winter. He spent his nights in public +lavatories and his days haunting the markets and booths. + +One day when it was snowing hard, hunger and cold had driven him into +the streets. His beggar's cry was full of woe and all who heard it were +heart-rent. But the snow was so heavy that hardly a house had its outer +door open, and the streets were empty. + +When he reached the eastern gate of An-i, about the seventh or eighth +turning north of the Hsn-li Wall, there was a house with the +double-doors half open. + +It was the house where Miss Li was then living, but the young man did +not know. + +He stood before the door, wailing loud and long. + +Hunger and cold had given such a piteous accent to his cry that none +could have listened unmoved. + +Miss Li heard it from her room and at once said to her servant, "That is +so-and-so. I know his voice." She flew to the door and was horrified to +see her old lover standing before her so emaciated by hunger and +disfigured by sores that he seemed scarcely human. "Can it be you?" she +said. But the young man was so overcome by bewilderment and excitement +that he could not speak, but only moved his lips noiselessly. + +She threw her arms round his neck, then wrapped him in her own +embroidered jacket and led him to the parlour. Here, with quavering +voice, she reproached herself, saying, "It is my doing that you have +been brought to this pass." And with these words she swooned. + +Her mother came running up in great excitement, asking who had arrived. +Miss Li, recovering herself, said who it was. The old woman cried out in +rage: "Send him away! What did you bring him in here for?" + +But Miss Li looked up at her defiantly and said: "Not so! This is the +son of a noble house. Once he rode in grand coaches and wore golden +trappings on his coat. But when he came to our house, he soon lost all +he had; and then we plotted together and left him destitute. Our conduct +has indeed been inhuman! We have ruined his career and robbed him even +of his place in the category of human relationships. For the love of +father and son is implanted by Heaven; yet we have hardened his +father's heart, so that he beat him with a stick and left him on the +ground. + +"Every one in the land knows that it is I who have reduced him to his +present plight. The Court is full of his kinsmen. Some day one of them +will come into power. Then an inquiry will be set afoot, and disaster +will overtake us. And since we have flouted Heaven and defied the laws +of humanity, neither spirits nor divinities will be on our side. Let us +not wantonly incur a further retribution! + +"I have lived as your daughter for twenty years. Reckoning what I have +cost you in that time, I find it must be close on a thousand pieces of +gold. You are now aged sixty, so that by the price of twenty more years' +food and clothing, I can buy my freedom. I intend to live separately +with this young man. We will not go far away; I shall see to it that we +are near enough to pay our respects to you both morning and evening." + +The "mother" saw that she was not to be gainsaid and fell in with the +arrangement. When she had paid her ransom, Miss Li had a hundred pieces +of gold left over; and with them she hired a vacant room, five doors +away. Here she gave the young man a bath, changed his clothes, fed him +with hot soup to relax his stomach, and later on fattened him up with +cheese and milk. + +In a few weeks she began to place before him all the choicest delicacies +of land and sea; and she clothed him with cap, shoes and stockings of +the finest quality. In a short time he began gradually to put on flesh, +and by the end of the year, he had entirely recovered his former health. + +One day Miss Li said to him: "Now your limbs are stout again and your +will strong! Sometimes, when deeply pondering in silent sorrow, I wonder +to myself how much you remember of your old literary studies?" He +thought and answered: "Of ten parts I remember two or three." + +Miss Li then ordered the carriage to be got ready and the young man +followed her on horseback. When they reached the classical bookshop at +the side-gate south of the Flag tower, she made him choose all the books +he wanted, till she had laid out a hundred pieces of gold. Then she +packed them in the cart and drove home. She now made him dismiss all +other thoughts from his mind and apply himself only to study. All the +evening he toiled at his books, with Miss Li at his side, and they did +not retire till midnight. If ever she found that he was too tired to +work, she made him lay down his classics and write a poem or ode. + +In two years he had thoroughly mastered his subjects and was admired by +all the scholars of the realm. He said to Miss Li, "_Now_, surely, I am +ready for the examiners!" but she would not let him compete and made him +revise all he had learnt, to prepare for the "hundredth battle." At the +end of the third year she said, "Now you may go." He went in for the +examination and passed at the first attempt. His reputation spread +rapidly through the examination rooms and even older men, when they saw +his compositions, were filled with admiration and respect, and sought +his friendship. + +But Miss Li would not let him make friends with them, saying, "Wait a +little longer! Nowadays when a bachelor of arts has passed his +examination, he thinks himself fit to hold the most advantageous posts +at Court and to win a universal reputation. But your unfortunate conduct +and disreputable past put you at a disadvantage beside your +fellow-scholars. You must 'grind, temper and sharpen' your attainments, +that you may secure a second victory. Then you will be able to match +yourself against famous scholars and contend with the illustrious." + +The young man accordingly increased his efforts and enhanced his value. +That year it happened that the Emperor had decreed a special examination +for the selection of candidates of unusual merit from all parts of the +Empire. The young man competed, and came out top in the "censorial +essay." He was offered the post of Army Inspector at Ch`eng1-tu Fu. +The officers who were to escort him were all previous friends. + +When he was about to take up his post, Miss Li said to him, "Now that +you are restored to your proper station in life, I will not be a burden +to you. Let me go back and look after the old lady till she dies. You +must ally yourself with some lady of noble lineage, who will be worthy +to carry the sacrificial dishes in your Ancestral Hall. Do not injure +your prospects by an unequal union. Good-bye, for now I must leave you." + +The young man burst into tears and threatened to kill himself if she +left him, but she obstinately refused to go with him. He begged her +passionately not to desert him, and she at last consented to go with him +across the river as far as Chien-men1.[4] "There," she said, "you must +part with me." The young man consented and in a few weeks they reached +Chien-men1. Before he had started out again, a proclamation arrived +announcing that the young man's father, who had been Governor of +Ch`ang-chou, had been appointed Governor of Ch`eng1-tu and Intendant +of the Chien-nan Circuit. Next morning the father arrived, and the young +man sent in his card and waited upon him at the posting-station. His +father did not recognize him, but the card bore the names of the young +man's father and grandfather, with their ranks and titles. When he read +these, he was astounded, and bidding his son mount the steps he caressed +him and wept. After a while he said: "Now we two are father and son once +more," and bade him tell his story. When he heard of the young man's +adventures, he was amazed. Presently he asked: "And where is Miss Li?" +He replied: "She came with me as far as here, but now she is going back +again." + +[4] The "Sword-gate": commanding the pass which leads into Szechuan from +the north. + +"I cannot allow it," the father said. Next day he ordered a carriage for +his son and sent him on to report himself at Ch`eng1-tu; but he +detained Miss Li at Chien-men1, found her a suitable lodging and +ordered a match-maker to perform the initial ceremonies for uniting the +two families and to accomplish the six rites of welcome. The young man +came back from Ch`eng1-tu and they were duly married. In the years +that followed their marriage, Miss Li showed herself a devoted wife and +competent housekeeper, and was beloved by all her relations. + +Some years later both the young man's parents died, and in his mourning +observances he showed unusual piety. As a mark of divine favour, magic +toadstools grew on the roof of his mourning-hut,[5] each stem bearing +three plants. The report of his virtue reached even the Emperor's ears. +Moreover a number of white swallows nested in the beams of his roof, an +omen which so impressed the Emperor that he raised his rank immediately. + +[5] See "Book or Rites," xxxii, 3. On returning from his father's burial +a son must not enter the house; he should live in an "out-house," +mourning for his father's absence. + +When the three years of mourning were over, he was successively +promoted to various distinguished posts and in the course of ten years +was Governor of several provinces. Miss Li was given the fief of +Chien-kuo, with the title "The Lady of Chien-kuo." + +He had four sons who all held high rank. Even the least successful of +them became Governor of T`ai-yan, and his brothers all married into +great families, so that his good fortune both in public and private life +was without parallel. + +How strange that we should find in the conduct of a prostitute a degree +of constancy rarely equalled even by the heroines of history! Surely the +story is one which cannot but provoke a sigh! + +My great-uncle was Governor of Chin-chou; subsequently he joined the +Ministry of Finance and became Inspector of Waterways, and finally +Inspector of Roads. In all these three offices he had Miss Li's husband +as his colleague, so that her story was well known to him in every +particular. During the Cheng1-yan period[6] I was sitting one day +with Li Kung-tso[7] of Lung-hai; we fell to talking of wives who had +distinguished themselves by remarkable conduct. I told him the story of +Miss Li. He listened with rapt attention, and when it was over, asked me +to write it down for him. So I took up my brush, wetted the hairs and +made this rough outline of the story. + +[6] A.D. 785-805. + +[7] A writer. + +_[Dated] autumn, eighth month of the year Yi-hai, (A.D. +795), written by Po-Hsing-chien of T`ai-yan._ + + + + +WANG CHIEN + +[_c. A.D. 830_] + + + + +[66] HEARING THAT HIS FRIEND WAS COMING BACK FROM THE WAR + + + In old days those who went to fight + In three years had one year's leave. + But in _this_ war the soldiers are never changed; + They must go on fighting till they die on the battle-field. + I thought of you, so weak and indolent, + Hopelessly trying to learn to march and drill. + That a young man should ever come home again + Seemed about as likely as that the sky should fall. + Since I got the news that you were coming back, + Twice I have mounted to the high hall of your home. + I found your brother mending your horse's stall; + I found your mother sewing your new clothes. + I am half afraid; perhaps it is not true; + Yet I never weary of watching for you on the road. + Each day I go out at the City Gate + With a flask of wine, lest you should come thirsty. + Oh that I could shrink the surface of the World, + So that suddenly I might find you standing at my side. + + + + +[67] THE SOUTH + + + In the southern land many birds sing; + Of towns and cities half are unwalled. + The country markets are thronged by wild tribes; + The mountain-villages bear river-names. + Poisonous mists rise from the damp sands; + Strange fires gleam through the night-rain. + And none passes but the lonely fisher of pearls. + Year by year on his way to the South Sea. + + + + +OU-YANG HSIU + +[_b. 1007; d. 1072_] + + + + +[68] AUTUMN + + +Master Ou-yang was reading his books[1] at night when he heard a strange +sound coming from the north-west. He paused and listened intently, +saying to himself: "How strange, how strange!" First there was a +pattering and rustling; but suddenly this broke into a great churning +and crashing, like the noise of waves that wake the traveller at night, +when wind and rain suddenly come; and where they lash the ship, there is +a jangling and clanging as of metal against metal. + +[1] The poem was written in 1052, when Ou-yang was finishing his "New +History of the T`ang Dynasty." + +Or again, like the sound of soldiers going to battle, who march swiftly +with their gags[2] between their teeth, when the captain's voice cannot +be heard, but only the tramp of horses and men moving. + +[2] Pieces of wood put in their mouths to prevent their talking. + +I called to my boy, bidding him go out and see what noise this could be. +The boy said: "The moon and stars are shining; the Milky Way glitters in +the sky. Nowhere is there any noise of men. The noise must be in the +trees." + +"I-hsi! alas!" I said, "this must be the sound of Autumn. Oh, why has +Autumn come? For as to Autumn's form, her colours are mournful and pale. +Mists scatter and clouds withdraw. Her aspect is clean and bright. The +sky is high and the sunlight clear as crystal. Her breath is shivering +and raw, pricking men's skin and bones; her thoughts are desolate, +bringing emptiness and silence to the rivers and hills. And hence it is +that her whisperings are sorrowful and cold, but her shouts are wild and +angry. Pleasant grasses grew soft and green, vying in rankness. Fair +trees knit their shade and gave delight. Autumn swept the grasses and +their colour changed; she met the trees, and their boughs were stripped. +And because Autumn's being is compounded of sternness, therefore it was +that they withered and perished, fell and decayed. For Autumn is an +executioner,[3] and her hour is darkness. She is a warrior, and her +element is metal. Therefore she is called 'the doom-spirit of heaven and +earth';[4] for her thoughts are bent on stern destruction. + +[3] Executions took place in autumn. See _Chou Li_, Book xxxiv (Biot's +translation, tom. ii, p. 286). + +[4] "Book of Rites," I. 656 (Couvreur's edition). + +"In Spring, growth; in Autumn, fruit: that is Heaven's plan. Therefore +in music the note _shang_ is the symbol of the West and _I-tse1_ is +the pitch-pipe of the seventh month. For _shang_ means '_to strike_'; +when things grow old they are stricken by grief. And _I_ means '_to +slay_'; things that have passed their prime must needs be slain. Plants +and trees have no feelings; when their time comes they are blown down. +But man moves and lives and is of creatures most divine. A hundred +griefs assail his heart, ten thousand tasks wear out his limbs, and each +inward stirring shakes the atoms of his soul. And all the more, when he +thinks of things that his strength cannot achieve or grieves at things +his mind cannot understand, is it strange that cheeks that were steeped +in red should grow withered as an old stick, and hair that was black as +ebony should turn as spangled as a starry sky? How should ought else but +what is fashioned of brass or stone strive to outlast the splendour of a +tree? Who but man himself is the slayer of his youth? Why was I angered +at Autumn's voice?" + +The boy made no answer: he was sleeping with lowered head. I could hear +nothing but the insects chirping shrilly on every side as though they +sought to join in my lamentation. + + + + +APPENDIX + + +An essay on Po Ch-i, whose poems occupy most of this book, will be +found in "170 Chinese Poems." The fullest account of Li Po's life (with +translations) is given in a paper read by me to the China Society, and +published in the _Asiatic Review_, July, 1919. Notices of Ch` Yan, +Wang Wei, Yan Chen1, Wang Chien and Ou-yang Hsiu will be found in +Giles's "Biographical Dictionary." To Wang Chieh Po Ch-i addressed +several poems. + +Of the 68 pieces in this book, 55 are now translated for the first time. +Of the eight poems by Li Po, all but Number 6 have been translated +before, some of them by several hands. + +Among the poems by Po Ch-i, three (Nos. 11, 12, and 44) have been +translated by Woitsch[1] and one, (No. 43), very incorrectly, by +Pfizmaier. Another (No. 21) was translated into rhymed verse by Prof. +Giles in "Adversaria Sinica" (1914), p. 323. Ou-yang Hsiu's "Autumn" was +translated by Giles (with great freedom in many places) in his "Chinese +Literature," p. 215. + +[1] Aus den Gedichten Po Ch-i's. Peking, 1908. + +[Transcriber's Note: The following apparent misprints have been +corrected for this electronic edition: +Patient carrier of towel and comb,[2] + --as printed, cited footnote 1, which is inapplicable and not on page + +"Because you are my cousin, +"Then came the sharing of pillow and mat, +"Now, having 'seen my Prince,' + --as printed, all were missing opening " + +Footnote 3: See p. 58, "170 Chinese Poems," Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + --as printed, See p, 58, + +with bedclothes under her arm + --as printed, bed-clothes] + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's More Translations from the Chinese, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE *** + +***** This file should be named 16500-8.txt or 16500-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/0/16500/ + +Produced by David Starner, Jonathan Niehof and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: More Translations from the Chinese + +Author: Various + +Translator: Arthur Waley + +Release Date: August 10, 2005 [EBook #16500] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Jonathan Niehof and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a><i>Translations by Arthur Waley</i></p> +<ol style="list-style-type: upper-roman"> +<li>A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY CHINESE POEMS</li> +<li>MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE</li> +</ol> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a></p> +<h1>MORE TRANSLATIONS +FROM THE CHINESE</h1> + +<h3 style="text-align:center; margin-left:0%;">BY</h3> + +<h2>ARTHUR WALEY</h2> + + +<p class="center">NEW YORK</p> + +<p class="center">ALFRED · A · KNOPF</p> + +<p class="center">MCMXIX</p> +<p class="smcap center"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a><br />COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY +ALFRED A. KNOPF, Inc.</p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: smaller">PRINTED BY THE VAIL-BALLOU CO., BINGHAMTON, N.Y. +ON WARREN’S INDIA TINT OLD STYLE PAPER<br /> +BOUND BY THE PLIMPTON PRESS, NORWOOD, MASS +</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> +<table class="toc" border="0" summary="Table of Contents" title="Table of Contents" cellspacing="5%"> +<tr><td></td><td class="tocpg" style="font-size: smaller;">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#CHU_YUAN">Ch‘ü Yüan</a>:—</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_GREAT_SUMMONS">The Great Summons</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#WANG_WEI">Wang Wei</a>:—</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#PROSE_LETTER">Prose Letter</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#LI_PO">Li Po</a>:—</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#DRINKING_ALONE_BY_MOONLIGHT">Drinking Alone by Moonlight</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#IN_THE_MOUNTAINS_ON_A_SUMMER_DAY">In the Mountains on a Summer Day</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#WAKING_FROM_DRUNKENNESS_ON_A_SPRING">Waking from Drunkenness on a Spring Day</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SELF-ABANDONMENT">Self-Abandonment</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#TO_TAN_CHIU">To Tan Ch‘iu</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#CLEARING_AT_DAWN">Clearing at Dawn</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#PO_CHU-I">Po Chü-i</a>:—</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#LIFE_OF_PO_CHU-I">Life of Po Chü-i</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#AFTER_PASSING_THE_EXAMINATION">After Passing the Examination</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#ESCORTING_CANDIDATES_TO_THE_EXAMINATION_HALL">Escorting Candidates to the Examination Hall</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#IN_EARLY_SUMMER_LODGING_IN_A_TEMPLE">In Early Summer Lodging in a Temple to Enjoy the Moonlight</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SICK_LEAVE">Sick Leave</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#WATCHING_THE_REAPERS">Watching the Reapers</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#GOING_ALONE_TO_SPEND_A_NIGHT_AT_THE">Going Alone to Spend a Night at the Hsien-Yu Temple</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#PLANTING_BAMBOOS">Planting Bamboos</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a><a href="#TO_LI_CHIEN">To Li Chien</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#AT_THE_END_OF_SPRING">At the End of Spring</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_POEM_ON_THE_WALL">The Poem on the Wall</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#CHU_CHEN_VILLAGE">Chu Ch‘ēn Village</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#FISHING_IN_THE_WEI_RIVER">Fishing in the Wei River</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#LAZY_MANS_SONG">Lazy Man’s Song</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#ILLNESS_AND_IDLENESS">Illness and Idleness</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#WINTER_NIGHT">Winter Night</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_CHRYSANTHEMUMS_IN_THE_EASTERN">The Chrysanthemums in the Eastern Garden</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#POEMS_IN_DEPRESSION_AT_WEI_VILLAGE">Poems in Depression, at Wei Village</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#TO_HIS_BROTHER_HSING-CHIEN_WHO_WAS">To His Brother Hsing-Chien, Who was in Tung-Ch‘uan</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#STARTING_EARLY_FROM_THE_CHU-CHENG">Starting Early from the Ch‘u-Ch‘ēng Inn</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#RAIN">Rain</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_BEGINNING_OF_SUMMER">The Beginning of Summer</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#VISITING_THE_HSI-LIN_TEMPLE">Visiting the Hsi-Lin Temple</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#PROSE_LETTER_TO_YUAN_CHEN">Prose Letter to Yüan Chēn</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#HEARING_THE_EARLY_ORIOLE">Hearing the Early Oriole</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#DREAMING_THAT_I_WENT_WITH_LU_AND_YU">Dreaming that I Went with Lu and Yu to Visit Yüan Chēn</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_FIFTEENTH_VOLUME">The Fifteenth Volume</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#INVITATION_TO_HSIAO_CHU-SHIH1">Invitation to Hsiao Chü-Shih</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#TO_LI_CHIEN_2">To Li Chien</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_SPRING_RIVER">The Spring River</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#AFTER_COLLECTING_THE_AUTUMN_TAXES">After Collecting the Autumn Taxes</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#LODGING_WITH_THE_OLD_MAN_OF_THE">Lodging with the Old Man of the Stream</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#TO_HIS_BROTHER_HSING-CHIEN">To His Brother Hsing-Chien</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_PINE-TREES_IN_THE_COURTYARD">The Pine-Trees in the Courtyard</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SLEEPING_ON_HORSEBACK">Sleeping on Horseback</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#PARTING_FROM_THE_WINTER_STOVE">Parting from the Winter Stove</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#GOOD-BYE_TO_THE_PEOPLE_OF_HANGCHOW">Good-Bye to the People of Hangchow</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#WRITTEN_WHEN_GOVERNOR_OF_SOOCHOW">Written when Governor of Soochow</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a><a href="#GETTING_UP_EARLY_ON_A_SPRING_MORNING">Getting Up Early on a Spring Morning</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#LOSING_A_SLAVE-GIRL">Losing a Slave-Girl</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_GRAND_HOUSES_AT_LO-YANG">The Grand Houses at Lo-Yang</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_CRANES">The Cranes</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#ON_HIS_BALDNESS">On His Baldness</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THINKING_OF_THE_PAST">Thinking of the Past</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#A_MAD_POEM_ADDRESSED_TO_MY_NEPHEWS_AND_NIECES">A Mad Poem Addressed to My Nephews and Nieces</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#OLD_AGE">Old Age</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#TO_A_TALKATIVE_GUEST">To a Talkative Guest</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#TO_LIU_YU-HSI">To Liu Yü-Hsi</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#MY_SERVANT_WAKES_ME">My Servant Wakes Me</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SINCE_I_LAY_ILL">Since I Lay Ill</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#SONG_OF_PAST_FEELINGS_With_Preface">Song of Past Feelings</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#ILLNESS">Illness</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#RESIGNATION">Resignation</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#YUAN_CHEN">Yüan Chēn</a>:—</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_TSUI_YING-YING">The Story of Ts‘ui Ying-Ying</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_PITCHER">The Pitcher</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#PO_HSING-CHIEN">Po Hsing-Chien</a>:—</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_MISS_LI">The Story of Miss Li</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_117">117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#WANG_CHIEN">Wang Chien</a>:—</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#HEARING_THAT_HIS_FRIEND_WAS_COMING_BACK_FROM_THE_WAR">Hearing that His Friend was Coming Back from the War</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_137">137</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_SOUTH">The South</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#OU-YANG_HSIU">Ou-Yang Hsiu</a>:—</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#AUTUMN">Autumn</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tochd"><a href="#APPENDIX">Appendix</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_144">144</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<p><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a></p> +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> + + +<p>This book is not intended to be representative of Chinese +literature as a whole. I have chosen and arranged chronologically +various pieces which interested me and which it +seemed possible to translate adequately.</p> + +<p>An account of the history and technique of Chinese poetry +will be found in the introduction to my last book.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> +Learned reviewers must not suppose that I have failed to appreciate +the poets whom I do not translate. Nor can they +complain that the more famous of these poets are inaccessible +to European readers; about a hundred of Li Po’s +poems have been translated, and thirty or forty of Tu Fu’s. +I have, as before, given half my space to Po Chü-i, of whose +poems I had selected for translation a much larger number +than I have succeeded in rendering. I will give literal versions +of two rejected ones:</p> + + +<h3>EVENING</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 835</i>]</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Water’s colour at-dusk still white;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sunsets glow in-the-dark gradually nil.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Windy lotus shakes [like] broken fan;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Wave-moon stirs [like] string [of] jewels.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Crickets chirping answer one another;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Mandarin-ducks sleep, not alone.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Little servant repeatedly announces night;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Returning steps still hesitate.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>IN EARLY SPRING ALONE CLIMBING THE T‘IEN-KUNG PAGODA</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 389</i>]</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>T‘ien-kung sun warm, pagoda door open;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Alone climbing, greet Spring, drink one cup.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Without limit excursion-people afar-off wonder at me;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>What cause most old most first arrived!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>While many of the pieces in “170 Chinese Poems” aimed +at literary form in English, others did no more than give +the sense of the Chinese in almost as crude a way as the +two examples above. It was probably because of this inconsistency +that no reviewer treated the book as an experiment +in English unrhymed verse, though this was the aspect +of it which most interested the writer.</p> + +<p>In the present work I have aimed more consistently at +poetic form, but have included on account of their biographical +interest two or three rather unsuccessful versions +of late poems by Po Chü-i.</p> + +<p>For leave to reprint I am indebted to the editors of the +<i>English Review</i>, <i>Nation</i>, <i>New Statesman</i>, <i>Bulletin of School +of Oriental Studies</i>, and <i>Reconstruction</i>.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> “170 Chinese Poems,” New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1919.</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a></p> +<h2><a name="CHU_YUAN" id="CHU_YUAN"></a>CH‘U YÜAN</h2> + +<h5>[<i>Fourth Century <span class="smcap">b.c.</span></i>]</h5> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a></p><p><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a></p> +<h3><a name="THE_GREAT_SUMMONS" id="THE_GREAT_SUMMONS"></a>[1] THE GREAT SUMMONS</h3> + + +<p><i>When Ch‘ü Yüan had been exiled from the Court for +nine years, he became so despondent that he feared his +soul would part from his body and he would die. It was +then that he made the poem called “The Great Summons,” +calling upon his soul not to leave him.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Green Spring receiveth<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The vacant earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The white sun shineth;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Spring wind provoketh<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To burst and burgeon<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Each sprout and flower.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In those dark caves where Winter lurketh<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hide not, my Soul!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back again! O, do not stray!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back again and go not east or west, or north or south!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For to the East a mighty water drowneth Earth’s other shore;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tossed on its waves and heaving with its tides<br /></span> +<span class="i6">The hornless Dragon of the Ocean rideth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clouds gather low and fogs enfold the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And gleaming ice drifts past.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul go not to the East,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the silent Valley of Sunrise!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Soul go not to the South<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where mile on mile the earth is burnt away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And poisonous serpents slither through the flames;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>Where on precipitous paths or in deep woods<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tigers and leopards prowl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And water-scorpions wait;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the king-python rears his giant head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul, go not to the South<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the three-footed tortoise spits disease!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Soul go not to the West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where level wastes of sand stretch on and on;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And demons rage, swine-headed, hairy-skinned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bulging eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who in wild laughter gnash projecting fangs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul go not to the West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where many perils wait!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Soul go not to the North,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Lame Dragon’s frozen peaks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where trees and grasses dare not grow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where a river runs too wide to cross<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And too deep to plumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the sky is white with snow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the cold cuts and kills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul seek not to fill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The treacherous voids of the north!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to idleness and peace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In quietude enjoy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lands of Ching and Ch‘u.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There work your will and follow your desire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till sorrow is forgot,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And carelessness shall bring you length of days.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to joys beyond all telling!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a></p> +<span class="i0">Where thirty cubits high at harvest-time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The corn is stacked;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where pies are cooked of millet and bearded-maize.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guests watch the steaming bowls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sniff the pungency of peppered herbs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cunning cook adds slices of bird-flesh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pigeon and yellow-heron and black-crane.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They taste the badger-stew.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to feed on foods you love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Next are brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh turtle, and sweet chicken cooked in cheese<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pressed by the men of Ch‘u.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pickled sucking-pig<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flesh of whelps floating in liver-sauce<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With salad of minced radishes in brine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All served with that hot spice of southernwood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The land of Wu supplies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to choose the meats you love!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Roasted daw, steamed widgeon and grilled quail—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On every fowl they fare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Boiled perch and sparrow broth,—in each preserved<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The separate flavour that is most its own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to where such dainties wait!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The four strong liquors are warming at the fire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that they grate not on the drinker’s throat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How fragrant rise their fumes, how cool their taste!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such drink is not for louts or serving-men!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wise distillers from the land of Wu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blend unfermented spirit with white yeast<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>And brew the <i>li</i> of Ch‘u.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back and let your yearnings cease!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Reed-organs from the lands of T‘ai and Ch‘in<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Wei and Chēng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gladden the feasters, and old songs are sung:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The “Rider’s Song” that once<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fu-hsi, the ancient monarch, made;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the harp-songs of Ch‘u.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then after prelude from the flutes of Chao<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ballad-singer’s voice rises alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to the hollow mulberry-tree!<a name="FNanchor_1_2" id="FNanchor_1_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_2" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Eight and eight the dancers sway,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weaving their steps to the poet’s voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who speaks his odes and rhapsodies;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They tap their bells and beat their chimes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rigidly, lest harp and flute<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should mar the measure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then rival singers of the Four Domains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Compete in melody, till not a tune<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is left unsung that human voice could sing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back and listen to their songs!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then women enter whose red lips and dazzling teeth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seduce the eye;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But meek and virtuous, trained in every art;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fit sharers of play-time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So soft their flesh and delicate their bones.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back and let them ease your woe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>Then enter other ladies with laughing lips<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sidelong glances under moth-eye brows;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose cheeks are fresh and red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ladies both great of heart and long of limb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose beauty by sobriety is matched.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Well-padded cheeks and ears with curving rim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High-arching eyebrows, as with compass drawn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great hearts and loving gestures—all are there;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small waists and necks as slender as the clasp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of courtiers’ brooches.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to those whose tenderness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drives angry thoughts away!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Last enter those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose every action is contrived to please;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black-painted eyebrows and white-powdered cheeks.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They reek with scent; with their long sleeves they brush<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faces of the feasters whom they pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or pluck the coats of those who will not stay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to pleasures of the night!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A summer-house with spacious rooms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a high hall with beams stained red;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A little closet in the southern wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reached by a private stair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And round the house a covered way should run<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where horses might be trained.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sometimes riding, sometimes going afoot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You shall explore, O Soul, the parks of spring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your jewelled axles gleaming in the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yoke inlaid with gold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>Or amid orchises and sandal-trees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall walk in the dark woods.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back and live for these delights!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Peacocks shall fill your gardens; you shall rear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The roc and phœnix, and red jungle-fowl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose cry at dawn assembles river storks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To join the play of cranes and ibises;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the wild-swan all day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursues the glint of idle king-fishers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to watch the birds in flight!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He who has found such manifold delights<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall feel his cheeks aglow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the blood-spirit dancing through his limbs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stay with me, Soul, and share<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The span of days that happiness will bring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See sons and grandsons serving at the Court<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ennobled and enriched.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back and bring prosperity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To house and stock!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The roads that lead to Ch‘u<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall teem with travellers as thick as clouds,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand miles away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the Five Orders of Nobility<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall summon sages to assist the King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with godlike discrimination choose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wise in council; by their aid to probe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hidden discontents of humble men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And help the lonely poor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back and end what we began!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a></p> +<span class="i0">Fields, villages and lanes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall throng with happy men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good rule protect the people and make known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The King’s benevolence to all the land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stern discipline prepare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their natures for the soft caress of Art.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to where the good are praised!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like the sun shining over the four seas<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall be the reputation of our King;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His deeds, matched only in Heaven, shall repair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wrongs endured by every tribe of men,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Northward to Yu and southward to Annam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the Sheep’s Gut Mountain and the Eastern Seas.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to where the wise are sought!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Behold the glorious virtues of our King<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Triumphant, terrible;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold with solemn faces in the Hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Three Grand Ministers walk up and down,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">None chosen for the post save landed-lords<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, in default, Knights of the Nine Degrees.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the first ray of dawn already is hung<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shooting-target, where with bow in hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And arrows under arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each archer does obeisance to each,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Willing to yield his rights of precedence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Soul come back to where men honour still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The name of the Three Kings.<a name="FNanchor_2_3" id="FNanchor_2_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_3" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_2" id="Footnote_1_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_2"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The harp.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_3" id="Footnote_2_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_3"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Yü, T‘ang and Wēn, the three just rulers of antiquity.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a></p> +<h2><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a><a name="WANG_WEI" id="WANG_WEI"></a>WANG WEI</h2> + +<h5>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 699-759</i>]</h5> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a></p> +<h3><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a><a name="PROSE_LETTER" id="PROSE_LETTER"></a>[2] PROSE LETTER</h3> + +<p><i>To the Bachelor-of-Arts P‘ei Ti</i></p> + + +<p>Of late during the sacrificial month, the weather has been +calm and clear, and I might easily have crossed the mountain. +But I knew that you were conning the classics and +did not dare disturb you. So I roamed about the mountain-side, +rested at the Kan-p‘ei Temple, dined with the +mountain priests, and, after dinner, came home again. Going +northwards, I crossed the Yüan-pa, over whose waters +the unclouded moon shone with dazzling rim. When night +was far advanced, I mounted Hua-tzü’s Hill and saw the +moonlight tossed up and thrown down by the jostling waves +of Wang River. On the wintry mountain distant lights +twinkled and vanished; in some deep lane beyond the forest +a dog barked at the cold, with a cry as fierce as a wolf’s. +The sound of villagers grinding their corn at night filled +the gaps between the slow chiming of a distant bell.</p> + +<p>Now I am sitting alone. I listen, but cannot hear my +grooms and servants move or speak. I think much of +old days: how hand in hand, composing poems as we +went, we walked down twisting paths to the banks of clear +streams.</p> + +<p>We must wait for Spring to come: till the grasses sprout +and the trees bloom. Then wandering together in the spring +hills we shall see the trout leap lightly from the stream, the +white gulls stretch their wings, the dew fall on the green +moss. And in the morning we shall hear the cry of curlews +in the barley-fields.</p> + +<p>It is not long to wait. Shall you be with me then? Did +I not know the natural subtlety of your intelligence, I would +<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>not dare address to you so remote an invitation. You will +understand that a deep feeling dictates this course.</p> + +<p>Written without disrespect by Wang Wei, a dweller in the +mountains.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a><a name="LI_PO" id="LI_PO"></a>LI PO</h2> + +<h5>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 701-762</i>]</h5> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a></p> +<h3><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a><a name="DRINKING_ALONE_BY_MOONLIGHT" id="DRINKING_ALONE_BY_MOONLIGHT"></a>[3-5] DRINKING ALONE BY MOONLIGHT</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Three Poems</i>]</h4> + + +<h4>I</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A cup of wine, under the flowering trees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I drink alone, for no friend is near.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he, with my shadow, will make three men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I must make merry before the Spring is spent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While we were sober, three shared the fun;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now we are drunk, each goes his way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May we long share our odd, inanimate feast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.<a name="FNanchor_1_4" id="FNanchor_1_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_4" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the third month the town of Hsien-yang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is thick-spread with a carpet of fallen flowers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who in Spring can bear to grieve alone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, sober, look on sights like these?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Riches and Poverty, long or short life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the Maker of Things are portioned and disposed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But a cup of wine levels life and death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And a thousand things obstinately hard to prove.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I am drunk, I lose Heaven and Earth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>Motionless—I cleave to my lonely bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last I forget that I exist at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And at <i>that</i> moment my joy is great indeed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If High Heaven had no love for wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There would not be a Wine Star in the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If Earth herself had no love for wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There would not be a city called Wine Springs.<a name="FNanchor_2_5" id="FNanchor_2_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_5" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Heaven and Earth both love wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can love wine, without shame before God.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear wine was once called a Saint;<a name="FNanchor_3_6" id="FNanchor_3_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_6" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick wine was once called “a Sage.”<a href="#Footnote_3_6" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of Saint and Sage I have long quaffed deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What need for me to study spirits and <i>hsien</i>?<a name="FNanchor_4_7" id="FNanchor_4_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_7" class="fnanchor">[4]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the third cup I penetrate the Great Way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A full gallon—Nature and I are one ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the things I feel when wine possesses my soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will never tell to those who are not drunk.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_4" id="Footnote_1_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_4"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The Milky Way.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_5" id="Footnote_2_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_5"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Ch‘iu-ch‘üan, in Kansuh.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_6" id="Footnote_3_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_6"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> “History of Wei Dynasty” (Life of Hsü Mo): “A drunken +visitor said, ‘Clear wine I account a Saint: thick wine only a Sage.’”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_7" id="Footnote_4_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_7"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The lore of Rishi, Immortals.</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a><a name="IN_THE_MOUNTAINS_ON_A_SUMMER_DAY" id="IN_THE_MOUNTAINS_ON_A_SUMMER_DAY"></a>[6] IN THE MOUNTAINS ON A SUMMER DAY</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gently I stir a white feather fan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With open shirt sitting in a green wood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a><a name="WAKING_FROM_DRUNKENNESS_ON_A_SPRING" id="WAKING_FROM_DRUNKENNESS_ON_A_SPRING"></a>[7] WAKING FROM DRUNKENNESS ON A SPRING +DAY</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Life in the World is but a big dream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will not spoil it by any labour or care.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So saying, I was drunk all the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lying helpless at the porch in front of my door.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I woke up, I blinked at the garden-lawn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lonely bird was singing amid the flowers.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I asked myself, had the day been wet or fine?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Spring wind was telling the mango-bird.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moved by its song I soon began to sigh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as wine was there I filled my own cup.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wildly singing I waited for the moon to rise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When my song was over, all my senses had gone.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a><a name="SELF-ABANDONMENT" id="SELF-ABANDONMENT"></a>[8] SELF-ABANDONMENT</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I sat drinking and did not notice the dusk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The birds were gone, and men also few.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a><a name="TO_TAN_CHIU" id="TO_TAN_CHIU"></a>[9] TO TAN CH‘IU</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dearly loving the beauty of valleys and hills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At green Spring he lies in the empty woods,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is still asleep when the sun shines on high.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pine-tree wind dusts his sleeves and coat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A pebbly stream cleans his heart and ears.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I envy you, who far from strife and talk<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are high-propped on a pillow of blue cloud.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a><a name="CLEARING_AT_DAWN" id="CLEARING_AT_DAWN"></a>[10] CLEARING AT DAWN</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The fields are chill; the sparse rain has stopped;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The colours of Spring teem on every side.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With leaping fish the blue pond is full;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a><a name="PO_CHU-I" id="PO_CHU-I"></a>PO CHU-I</h2> + +<h3><a name="LIFE_OF_PO_CHU-I" id="LIFE_OF_PO_CHU-I"></a>LIFE OF PO CHU-I</h3> + + +<p> +772 Born on 20th of 1st month.<br /> +800 Passes his examinations.<br /> +806 Receives a minor post at Chou-chih, near the capital.<br /> +807 Made Scholar of the Han Lin Academy.<br /> +811 Retires to Wei River, being in mourning for his mother.<br /> +814 Returns to Court.<br /> +815 Banished to Hsün-yang.<br /> +818 Removed to Chung-chou.<br /> +820 Reprieved and returns to Court.<br /> +822 Governor of Hangchow.<br /> +825 Governor of Soochow.<br /> +826 Retires owing to illness.<br /> +827 Returns to Ch‘ang-an.<br /> +829 Settles permanently at Lo-yang.<br /> +831 Governor of Ho-nan, the province of which Lo-yang was capital.<br /> +833 Retires owing to illness.<br /> +839 Has paralytic stroke in tenth month.<br /> +846 Dies in the eighth month.<br /> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a><a name="AFTER_PASSING_THE_EXAMINATION" id="AFTER_PASSING_THE_EXAMINATION"></a>[11] AFTER PASSING THE EXAMINATION</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 800</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For ten years I never left my books;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I went up ... and won unmerited praise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My high place I do not much prize;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The joy of my parents will first make me proud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fellow students, six or seven men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See me off as I leave the City gate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My covered couch is ready to drive away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flutes and strings blend their parting tune.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hopes achieved dull the pains of parting;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fumes of wine shorten the long road....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shod with wings is the horse of him who rides<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On a Spring day the road that leads to home.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a><a name="ESCORTING_CANDIDATES_TO_THE_EXAMINATION_HALL" id="ESCORTING_CANDIDATES_TO_THE_EXAMINATION_HALL"></a>[12] ESCORTING CANDIDATES TO THE EXAMINATION HALL</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 805</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At dawn I rode to escort the Doctors of Art;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the eastern quarter the sky was still grey.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I said to myself, “You have started far too soon,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But horses and coaches already thronged the road.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High and low the riders’ torches bobbed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Muffled or loud, the watchman’s drum beat.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Riders, when I see you prick<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To your early levee, pity fills my heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the sun rises and the hot dust flies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the creatures of earth resume their great strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You, with your striving, what shall you each seek?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Profit and fame, for that is all your care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I, you courtiers, rise from my bed at noon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And live idly in the city of Ch‘ang-an.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spring is deep and my term of office spent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day by day my thoughts go back to the hills.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a><a name="IN_EARLY_SUMMER_LODGING_IN_A_TEMPLE" id="IN_EARLY_SUMMER_LODGING_IN_A_TEMPLE"></a>[13] IN EARLY SUMMER LODGING IN A TEMPLE +TO ENJOY THE MOONLIGHT</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 805</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In early summer, with two or three more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That were seeking fame in the city of Ch‘ang-an,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose low employ gave them less business<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than ever they had since first they left their homes,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these I wandered deep into the shrine of Tao,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the joy we sought was promised in this place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we reached the gate, we sent our coaches back;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We entered the yard with only cap and stick.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still and clear, the first weeks of May,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When trees are green and bushes soft and wet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the wind has stolen the shadows of new leaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And birds linger on the last boughs that bloom.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Towards evening when the sky grew clearer yet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the South-east was still clothed in red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the western cloister we carried our jar of wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While we waited for the moon, our cups moved slow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon, how soon her golden ghost was born,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swiftly, as though she had waited for us to come.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beams of her light shone in every place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On towers and halls dancing to and fro.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till day broke we sat in her clear light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughing and singing, and yet never grew tired.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Ch‘ang-an, the place of profit and fame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such moods as this, how many men know?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a><a name="SICK_LEAVE" id="SICK_LEAVE"></a>[14] SICK LEAVE</h3> + +<h4>[<i>While Secretary to the Deputy-Assistant-Magistrate of +Chou-chih, near Ch‘ang-an, in <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 806</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Propped on pillows, not attending to business;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For two days I’ve lain behind locked doors.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I begin to think that those who hold office<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get no rest, except by falling ill!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For restful thoughts one does not need space;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The room where I lie is ten foot square.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the western eaves, above the bamboo-twigs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From my couch I see the White Mountain rise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But the clouds that hover on its far-distant peak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bring shame to a face that is buried in the World’s dust.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a><a name="WATCHING_THE_REAPERS" id="WATCHING_THE_REAPERS"></a>[15] WATCHING THE REAPERS</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 806</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tillers of the soil have few idle months;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the fifth month their toil is double-fold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A south-wind visits the fields at night:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly the hill is covered with yellow corn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wives and daughters shoulder baskets of rice;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Youths and boys carry the flasks of wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Following after they bring a wage of meat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the strong reapers toiling on the southern hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose feet are burned by the hot earth they tread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose backs are scorched by flames of the shining sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Tired they toil, caring nothing for the heat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grudging the shortness of the long summer day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A poor woman follows at the reapers’ side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With an infant child carried close at her breast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her right hand she gleans the fallen grain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On her left arm a broken basket hangs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>I</i> to-day ... by virtue of what right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I never once tended field or tree?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My government-pay is three hundred tons;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the year’s end I have still grain in hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thinking of this, secretly I grew ashamed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all day the thought lingered in my head.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a><a name="GOING_ALONE_TO_SPEND_A_NIGHT_AT_THE" id="GOING_ALONE_TO_SPEND_A_NIGHT_AT_THE"></a>[16] GOING ALONE TO SPEND A NIGHT AT THE +HSIEN-YU TEMPLE</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 806</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The crane from the shore standing at the top of the steps;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon on the pool seen at the open door;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where these are, I made my lodging-place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for two nights could not turn away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am glad I chanced on a place so lonely and still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With no companion to drag me early home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now that I have tasted the joy of being alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will never again come with a friend at my side.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a><a name="PLANTING_BAMBOOS" id="PLANTING_BAMBOOS"></a>[17] PLANTING BAMBOOS</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 806</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unrewarded, my will to serve the State;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At my closed door autumn grasses grow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What could I do to ease a rustic heart?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I planted bamboos, more than a hundred shoots.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I see their beauty, as they grow by the stream-side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I feel again as though I lived in the hills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And many a time on public holidays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round their railing I walk till night comes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not say that their roots are still weak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not say that their shade is still small;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already I feel that both in garden and house<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Day by day a fresher air moves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But most I love, lying near the window-side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hear in their branches the sound of the autumn-wind.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a><a name="TO_LI_CHIEN" id="TO_LI_CHIEN"></a>[18] TO LI CHIEN</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Part of a Poem</i>]</h4> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 807</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Worldly matters again draw my steps;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Worldly things again seduce my heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whenever for long I part from Li Chien<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gradually my thoughts grow narrow and covetous.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I remember how once I used to visit you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I stopped my horse and tapped at the garden-gate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Often when I came you were still lying in bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your little children were sent to let me in.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And you, laughing, ran to the front-door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With coat-tails flying and cap all awry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the swept terrace, green patterns of moss;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the dusted bench, clean shadows of leaves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gaze at the hills we sat in the eastern lodge;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wait for the moon we walked to the southern moor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At your quiet gate only birds spoke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In your distant street few drums were heard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Opposite each other all day we talked,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never once spoke of profit or fame.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since we parted hands, how long has passed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrice and again the full moon has shone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For when we parted the last flowers were falling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to-day I hear new cicadas sing.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The scented year suddenly draws to its close,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the sorrow of parting is still unsubdued.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a><a name="AT_THE_END_OF_SPRING" id="AT_THE_END_OF_SPRING"></a>[19] AT THE END OF SPRING</h3> + +<h4><i>To Yüan Chēn.</i><a name="FNanchor_1_8" id="FNanchor_1_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_8" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> [<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 810</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The flower of the pear-tree gathers and turns to fruit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The swallows’ eggs have hatched into young birds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the Seasons’ changes thus confront the mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What comfort can the Doctrine of Tao give?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It will teach me to watch the days and months fly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without grieving that Youth slips away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If the Fleeting World is but a long dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It does not matter whether one is young or old.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ever since the day that my friend left my side<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And has lived an exile in the City of Chiang-ling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is one wish I cannot quite destroy:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That from time to time we may chance to meet again.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_8" id="Footnote_1_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_8"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Po Chü-i’s great friend. See Nos. 63 and 64.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a><a name="THE_POEM_ON_THE_WALL" id="THE_POEM_ON_THE_WALL"></a>[20] THE POEM ON THE WALL</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 810</i>]</h4> + +<h4>[<i>Yüan Chēn wrote that on his way to exile he had discovered +a poem inscribed by Po Chü-i, on the wall of +the Lo-k‘ou Inn.</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My clumsy poem on the inn-wall none cared to see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bird-droppings and moss’s growth the letters were blotched away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There came a guest with heart so full, that though a page to the Throne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He did not grudge with his broidered coat to wipe off the dust, and read.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a><a name="CHU_CHEN_VILLAGE" id="CHU_CHEN_VILLAGE"></a>[21] CHU CH‘ĒN VILLAGE</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 811</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In Hsü-chou, in the District of Ku-fēng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There lies a village whose name is Chu-ch‘ēn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hundred miles away from the county-town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid fields of hemp and green of mulberry-trees.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Click, click goes the sound of the spinning-wheel;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mules and oxen pack the village-streets.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The girls go drawing the water from the brook;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The men go gathering fire-wood on the hill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So far from the town Government affairs are few;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So deep in the hills, man’s ways are simple.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though they have wealth, they do not traffic with it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though they reach the age, they do not enter the Army.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each family keeps to its village trade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grey-headed, they have never left the gates.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Alive, they are the people of Ch‘ēn Village;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dead, they become the dust of Ch‘ēn Village.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out in the fields old men and young<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaze gladly, each in the other’s face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the whole village there are only two clans;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age after age Chus have married Ch‘ēns.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Near or distant, they have kinsmen in every house;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young or old, they have friends wherever they go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On white wine and roasted fowl they fare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At joyful meetings more than “once a week.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While they are alive, they have no distant partings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To choose a wife they go to a neighbour’s house.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When they are dead,—no distant burial;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round the village graves lie thick.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a>They are not troubled either about life or death;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have no anguish either of body or soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so it happens that they live to a ripe age<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And great-great-grandsons are often seen.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>I</i> was born in the Realms of Etiquette;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In early years, unprotected and poor.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alone, I learnt to distinguish between Evil and Good;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untutored, I toiled at bitter tasks.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World’s Law honours Learning and Fame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scholars prize marriages and Caps.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With these fetters I gyved my own hands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Truly I became a much-deceived man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At ten years old I learnt to read books;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At fifteen, I knew how to write prose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At twenty I was made a Bachelor of Arts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At thirty I became a Censor at the Court.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above, the duty I owe to Prince and parents;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Below, the ties that bind me to wife and child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The support of my family, the service of my country—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For these tasks my nature is not apt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I reckon the time that I first left my home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From then till now,—fifteen Springs!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My lonely boat has thrice sailed to Ch‘u;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Four times through Ch‘in my lean horse has passed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have walked in the morning with hunger in my face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have lain at night with a soul that could not rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">East and West I have wandered without pause,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hither and thither like a cloud astray in the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the civil-war my old home was destroyed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of my flesh and blood many are scattered and lost.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">North of the River, and South of the River—<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>In both lands are the friends of all my life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Life-friends whom I never see at all,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose deaths I hear of only after the lapse of years.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad at morning, I lie on my bed till dusk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Weeping at night, I sit and wait for dawn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fire of sorrow has burnt my heart’s core;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The frost of trouble has seized my hair’s roots.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In such anguish has my whole life passed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long I have envied the people of Ch‘ēn Village.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a><a name="FISHING_IN_THE_WEI_RIVER" id="FISHING_IN_THE_WEI_RIVER"></a>[22] FISHING IN THE WEI RIVER</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 811</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In waters still as a burnished mirror’s face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the depths of Wei, carp and grayling swim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Idly I come with my bamboo fishing-rod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hang my hook by the banks of Wei stream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softly shaking my ten feet of line.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though my body sits waiting for fish to come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness.<a name="FNanchor_1_9" id="FNanchor_1_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_9" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long ago a white-headed man[2]<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Also fished at the same river’s side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At seventy years, he caught Wēn Wang.<a name="FNanchor_2_10" id="FNanchor_2_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_10" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But <i>I</i>, when I come to cast my hook in the stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have no thought either of fish or men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lacking the skill to capture either prey,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can only bask in the autumn water’s light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I tire of this, my fishing also stops;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I go to my home and drink my cup of wine.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_9" id="Footnote_1_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_9"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See “Chuang Tzŭ,” chap. i, end.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_10" id="Footnote_2_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_10"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The Sage T‘ai-kung sat still till he was seventy, apparently fishing, +but really waiting for a Prince who would employ him. At last Wēn +Wang, Prince of Chou, happened to come that way and at once made +him his counsellor.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a><a name="LAZY_MANS_SONG" id="LAZY_MANS_SONG"></a>[23] LAZY MAN’S SONG</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 811</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My clothes are torn; I am too lazy to darn them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have got wine, but am too lazy to drink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So it’s just the same as if my cellar were empty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have got a harp, but am too lazy to play;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So it’s just the same as if it had no strings.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My wife tells me there is no more bread in the house;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I want to bake, but am too lazy to grind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My friends and relatives write me long letters;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I should like to read them, but they’re such a bother to open.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have always been told that Chi Shu-yeh<a name="FNanchor_1_11" id="FNanchor_1_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_11" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passed his whole life in absolute idleness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he played the harp and sometimes transmuted metals,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So even <i>he</i> was not so lazy as I.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_11" id="Footnote_1_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_11"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Also known as Chi K‘ang. A famous Quietist.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a><a name="ILLNESS_AND_IDLENESS" id="ILLNESS_AND_IDLENESS"></a>[24] ILLNESS AND IDLENESS</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Circa <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 812</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Illness and idleness give me much leisure.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What do I do with my leisure, when it comes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot bring myself to discard inkstone and brush;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now and then I make a new poem.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the poem is made, it is slight and flavourless,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thing of derision to almost every one.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Superior people will be pained at the flatness of the metre;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Common people will hate the plainness of the words.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sing it to myself, then stop and think about it ...<br /></span> +</div> +<hr style="width: 45%" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Prefects of Soochow and P‘ēng-tsē<a name="FNanchor_1_12" id="FNanchor_1_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_12" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would perhaps have praised it, but they died long ago.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who else would care to hear it?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No one to-day except Yüan Chēn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And <i>he</i> is banished to the City of Chiang-ling,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For three years an usher in the Penal Court.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parted from me by three thousand leagues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He will never know even that the poem was made.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_12" id="Footnote_1_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_12"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Wei Ying-wu, eighth century <span class="smcap">a.d.</span>, and T‘ao Ch‘ien, <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 365-427.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a><a name="WINTER_NIGHT" id="WINTER_NIGHT"></a>[25] WINTER NIGHT</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Written during his retirement in 812</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My house is poor; those that I love have left me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My body sick; I cannot join the feast.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is not a living soul before my eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I lie alone locked in my cottage room.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My broken lamp burns with a feeble flame;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My tattered curtains are crooked and do not meet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Tsek, tsek” on the door-step and window-sill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Again I hear the new snow fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I grow older, gradually I sleep less;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wake at midnight and sit up straight in bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I had not learned the “art of sitting and forgetting,”<a name="FNanchor_1_13" id="FNanchor_1_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_13" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How could I bear this utter loneliness?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stiff and stark my body cleaves to the earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unimpeded my soul yields to Change.<a name="FNanchor_2_14" id="FNanchor_2_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_14" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">So has it been for four hateful years,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through one thousand and three hundred nights!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_13" id="Footnote_1_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_13"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Yen Hui told Confucius that he had acquired the “art of sitting +and forgetting.” Asked what that meant, Yen Hui replied, “I have +learnt to discard my body and obliterate my intelligence; to abandon +matter and be impervious to sense-perception. By this method I +become one with the All-Pervading.”—<i>Chuang Tzŭ</i>, chap. vi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_14" id="Footnote_2_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_14"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> “Change” is the principle of endless mutation which governs the +Universe.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a><a name="THE_CHRYSANTHEMUMS_IN_THE_EASTERN" id="THE_CHRYSANTHEMUMS_IN_THE_EASTERN"></a>[26] THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS IN THE EASTERN +GARDEN</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 812</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The days of my youth left me long ago;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And now in their turn dwindle my years of prime.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With what thoughts of sadness and loneliness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I walk again in this cold, deserted place!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the midst of the garden long I stand alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sunshine, faint; the wind and dew chill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The autumn lettuce is tangled and turned to seed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fair trees are blighted and withered away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that is left are a few chrysanthemum-flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That have newly opened beneath the wattled fence.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I had brought wine and meant to fill my cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the sight of these made me stay my hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I remember, when I was young,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How easily my mood changed from sad to gay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I saw wine, no matter at what season,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before I drank it, my heart was already glad.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But now that age comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A moment of joy is harder and harder to get.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And always I fear that when I am quite old<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The strongest liquor will leave me comfortless.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore I ask you, late chrysanthemum-flower<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At this sad season why do you bloom alone?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though well I know that it was not for my sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Taught by you, for a while I will open my face.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a><a name="POEMS_IN_DEPRESSION_AT_WEI_VILLAGE" id="POEMS_IN_DEPRESSION_AT_WEI_VILLAGE"></a>[27] POEMS IN DEPRESSION, AT WEI VILLAGE</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 812</i>]</h4> + + +<h4>[1]</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I hug my pillow and do not speak a word;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my empty room no sound stirs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who knows that, all day a-bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am not ill and am not even asleep?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h4>[2]</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Turned to jade are the boy’s rosy cheeks;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his sick temples the frost of winter clings....<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not wonder that my body sinks to decay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though my limbs are old, my heart is older yet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a><a name="TO_HIS_BROTHER_HSING-CHIEN_WHO_WAS" id="TO_HIS_BROTHER_HSING-CHIEN_WHO_WAS"></a>[28] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN, WHO WAS +SERVING IN TUNG-CH‘UAN</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 815</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sullen, sullen, my brows are ever knit;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Silent, silent, my lips will not move.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is not indeed that I choose to sorrow thus;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I lift my eyes, who would share my joy?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last Spring <i>you</i> were called to the West<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To carry arms in the lands of Pa and Shu;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And this Spring <i>I</i> was banished to the South<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To nurse my sickness on the River’s oozy banks.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You are parted from me by six thousand leagues;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In another world, under another sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ten letters, nine do not reach;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What can I do to open my sad face?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thirsty men often dream of drink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hungry men often dream of food.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Spring came, where do my dreams lodge?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere my eyes are closed, I have travelled to Tung-ch‘uan.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a><a name="STARTING_EARLY_FROM_THE_CHU-CHENG" id="STARTING_EARLY_FROM_THE_CHU-CHENG"></a>[29] STARTING EARLY FROM THE CH‘U-CH‘ĒNG +INN</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 815</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Washed by the rain, dust and grime are laid;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skirting the river, the road’s course is flat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moon has risen on the last remnants of night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The travellers’ speed profits by the early cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the great silence I whisper a faint song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the black darkness are bred sombre thoughts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the lotus-banks hovers a dewy breeze;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the rice-furrows trickles a singing stream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the noise of our bells a sleeping dog stirs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the sight of our torches a roosting bird wakes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dawn glimmers through the shapes of misty trees ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ten miles, till day at last breaks.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a><a name="RAIN" id="RAIN"></a>[30] RAIN</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 815</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since I lived a stranger in the City of Hsün-yang<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hour by hour bitter rain has poured.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On few days has the dark sky cleared;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In listless sleep I have spent much time.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lake has widened till it almost joins the sky;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds sink till they touch the water’s face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond my hedge I hear the boatmen’s talk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the street-end I hear the fisher’s song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Misty birds are lost in yellow air;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Windy sails kick the white waves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In front of my gate the horse and carriage-way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a single night has turned into a river-bed.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a><a name="THE_BEGINNING_OF_SUMMER" id="THE_BEGINNING_OF_SUMMER"></a>[31] THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 815</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At the rise of summer a hundred beasts and trees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Join in gladness that the Season bids them thrive.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stags and does frolic in the deep woods;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Snakes and insects are pleased by the rank grass.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wingèd birds love the thick leaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scaly fish enjoy the fresh weeds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But to one place Summer forgot to come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I alone am left like a withered straw ...<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Banished to the world’s end;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flesh and bone all in distant ways.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From my native-place no tidings come;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rebel troops flood the land with war.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sullen grief, in the end, what will it bring?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am only wearing my own heart away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better far to let both body and mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blindly yield to the fate that Heaven made.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hsün-yang abounds in good wine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will fill my cup and never let it be dry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Pēn River fish are cheap as mud;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Early and late I will eat them, boiled and fried.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With morning rice at the temple under the hill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And evening wine at the island in the lake ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why should my thoughts turn to my native land?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For in this place one could well end one’s age.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a><a name="VISITING_THE_HSI-LIN_TEMPLE" id="VISITING_THE_HSI-LIN_TEMPLE"></a>[32] VISITING THE HSI-LIN TEMPLE</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Written during his exile</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I dismount from my horse at the Hsi-lin Temple;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I throw the porter my slender riding-whip.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the morning I work at a Government office-desk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the evening I become a dweller in the Sacred Hills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the second month to the north of Kuang-lu<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ice breaks and the snow begins to melt.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the southern plantation the tea-plant thrusts its sprouts;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the northern sluice the veins of the spring ooze.<br /></span> +</div> +<hr style="width: 45%" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This year there is war in An-hui,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In every place soldiers are rushing to arms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men of learning have been summoned to the Council Board;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men of action are marching to the battle-line.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only I, who have no talents at all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am left in the mountains to play with the pebbles of the stream.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a><a name="PROSE_LETTER_TO_YUAN_CHEN" id="PROSE_LETTER_TO_YUAN_CHEN"></a>[33] PROSE LETTER TO YÜAN CHĒN</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 818</i>]</h4> + + +<p>Night of the tenth day of the fourth month. Lo-t‘ien<a name="FNanchor_1_15" id="FNanchor_1_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_15" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> says: +O Wei-chih,<a name="FNanchor_2_16" id="FNanchor_2_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_16" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> Wei-chih, it is three years since I saw your +face and almost two years since I had a letter from you. Is +man’s life so long that he can afford such partings? Much +less should hearts joined by glue be set in bodies remote +as Hu and Yüeh.<a name="FNanchor_3_17" id="FNanchor_3_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_17" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> In promotion we could not be together; +and in failure we cannot forget each other. Snatched and +wrenched apart, separately each of us grows grey. O +Wei-chih, what is to be done? But this is the work of +Heaven and there is no use in speaking of it.</p> + +<p>When I first arrived at Hsün-yang, Hsiung Ju-tēng<a name="FNanchor_4_18" id="FNanchor_4_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_18" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> +came with the letter which you had written the year before, +when you were so ill. First you told me of the progress +of your illness, next of your feelings while you were ill +and last you spoke of all our meetings and partings, and +of the occasion of your own difficulties and dangers. You +had no time to write more, but sent a bundle of your +writings with a note attached, which said, “Later on I will +send a message by Po Min-chung.<a name="FNanchor_5_19" id="FNanchor_5_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_19" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> Ask him for news +and that will do instead of a letter.” Alas! Is it thus +that Wei-chih treats me? But again, I read the poem you +wrote when you heard I had been banished:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><p><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a></p> +<span class="i0"><i>The lamp had almost spent its light: shadows filled the room,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The night I heard that Lo-t‘ien was banished to Kiu-kiang.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And I that had lain sick to death sat up suddenly in bed;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>A dark wind blowing rain entered at the cold window.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>If even strangers’ hearts are touched by these lines, +much more must mine be; so that to this day I cannot recite +them without pain. Of this matter I will say no more, +but tell you briefly what has passed of late.</p> + +<p>It is more than three years since I came to Kiu-kiang. +All this time my body has been strong and my heart much +at peace. There has been no sickness in my household, +even among the servants. Last summer my elder brother +arrived from Hsü-chou, leading by the hand six or seven +little brothers and sisters, orphans of various households. +So that I have under my eyes all those who at present demand +my care. They share with me cold and heat, hunger +and satiety. This is my first consolation.</p> + +<p>The climate of the River Province is somewhat cool, so +that fevers and epidemics are rare. And while snakes and +mosquitoes are few, the fish in the Pēn are remarkably fat, +the River wine is exceedingly good, and indeed for the most +part the food is like that of the North Country. Although +the mouths within my doors are many and the salary of a +Sub-Prefect is small, by a thrifty application of my means, +I am yet able to provide for my household without seeking +any man’s assistance to clothe their backs or fill their bellies. +This is my second consolation.</p> + +<p>In the autumn of last year I visited Lu Shan<a name="FNanchor_6_20" id="FNanchor_6_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_20" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> for the +first time. Reaching a point between the Eastern Forest +and Western Forest Temples, beneath the Incense-Burner +Peak, I was enamoured by the unequalled prospect of +<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a>cloud-girt waters and spray-clad rocks. Unable to leave +this place, I built a cottage here. Before it stand ten tall +pines and a thousand tapering bamboos. With green +creepers I fenced my garden; with white stones I made +bridge and path. Flowing waters encircle my home; flying +spray falls between the eaves. Red pomegranate and +white lotus cluster on the steps of the pond. All is after +this pattern, though I cannot here name each delight. +Whenever I come here alone, I am moved to prolong my +stay to ten days; for of the things that have all my life +most pleased me, not one is missing. So that not only do +I forget to go back, but would gladly end my days here. +This is my third consolation.</p> + +<p>Remembering that not having had news of me for so long, +you might be in some anxiety with regard to me, I have +hastened to set your mind at rest by recording these three +consolations. What else I have to tell shall be set out in +due order, as follows....<a name="FNanchor_7_21" id="FNanchor_7_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_21" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<p>Wei-chih, Wei-chih! The night I wrote this letter I +was sitting at the mountain-window of my thatched hut. +I let my brush run as my hand willed and wrote at hazard +as my thoughts came. When I folded it and addressed it, +I found that dawn had come. I raised my head and saw +only a few mountain-priests, some sitting, some sleeping. +I heard the mournful cries of mountain apes and the sad +twitterings of valley birds. O friend of all my life, parted +from me by a thousand leagues, at such times as this “dim +thoughts of the World”<a name="FNanchor_8_22" id="FNanchor_8_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_22" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> creep upon me for a while; so, +<a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a>following my ancient custom, I send you these three +couplets:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>I remember how once I wrote you a letter sitting in the Palace at night,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>At the back of the Hall of Golden Bells, when dawn was coming in the sky.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This night I fold your letter—in what place?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sitting in a cottage on Lu Shan, by the light of a late lamp.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The caged bird and fettered ape are neither of them dead yet;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In the world of men face to face will they ever meet again?</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>O Wei-chih, Wei-chih! This night, this heart—do you +know them or not? Lo-t‘ien bows his head.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_15" id="Footnote_1_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_15"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Other name of Po Chü-i.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_16" id="Footnote_2_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_16"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Other name of Yüan Chēn.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_17" id="Footnote_3_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_17"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> The extreme North and South of China.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_18" id="Footnote_4_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_18"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> A poet, several of whose short poems are well-known.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_19" id="Footnote_5_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_19"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> The son of Po Chü-i‘s uncle Po Ch‘i-k‘ang.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_20" id="Footnote_6_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_20"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> A famous mountain near Kiu-kiang.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_21" id="Footnote_7_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_21"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> What followed is omitted in the printed text.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_22" id="Footnote_8_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_22"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> This expression is used by Yüan Chēn in a poem addressed to +Po Chü-i. By “the World,” he means their life together at Court.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a><a name="HEARING_THE_EARLY_ORIOLE" id="HEARING_THE_EARLY_ORIOLE"></a>[34] HEARING THE EARLY ORIOLE</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Written in exile</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the sun rose I was still lying in bed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An early oriole sang on the roof of my house.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For a moment I thought of the Royal Park at dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the Birds of Spring greeted their Lord from his trees.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I remembered the days when I served before the Throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pencil in hand, on duty at the Ch‘ēng-ming;<a name="FNanchor_1_23" id="FNanchor_1_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_23" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the height of spring, when I paused an instant from work,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Morning and evening, was <i>this</i> the voice I heard?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now in my exile the oriole sings again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the dreary stillness of Hsün-yang town ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bird’s note cannot really have changed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All the difference lies in the listener’s heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If he could but forget that he lives at the World’s end,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bird would sing as it sang in the Palace of old.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_23" id="Footnote_1_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_23"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Name of a palace at Ch‘ang-an.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a><a name="DREAMING_THAT_I_WENT_WITH_LU_AND_YU" id="DREAMING_THAT_I_WENT_WITH_LU_AND_YU"></a>[35] DREAMING THAT I WENT WITH LU AND YU +TO VISIT YÜAN CHĒN</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Written in exile</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At night I dreamt I was back in Ch‘ang-an;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw again the faces of old friends.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in my dreams, under an April sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They led me by the hand to wander in the spring winds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together we came to the village of Peace and Quiet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We stopped our horses at the gate of Yüan Chēn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yüan Chēn was sitting all alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he saw me coming, a smile came to his face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He pointed back at the flowers in the western court;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then opened wine in the northern summer-house.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seemed to be saying that neither of us had changed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seemed to be regretting that joy will not stay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That our souls had met only for a little while,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To part again with hardly time for greeting.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I woke up and thought him still at my side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I put out my hand; there was nothing there at all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a><a name="THE_FIFTEENTH_VOLUME" id="THE_FIFTEENTH_VOLUME"></a>[36] THE FIFTEENTH VOLUME</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Having completed the fifteenth volume of his works, the +poet sends it to his friends Yüan Chēn and Li Chien, with +a jesting poem.</i>]</h4> + +<h4>[<i>Written in 818</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My long poem, the “Eternal Grief,”<a name="FNanchor_1_24" id="FNanchor_1_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_24" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> is a beautiful and moving work;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My ten “Songs of Shensi” are models of tunefulness.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot prevent Old Yüan from stealing my best rhymes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I earnestly beg Little Li to respect my ballads and songs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While I am alive riches and honour will never fall to my lot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But well I know that after I am dead the fame of my books will live.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This random talk and foolish boasting forgive me, for to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have added Volume Fifteen to the row that stands to my name.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_24" id="Footnote_1_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_24"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See Giles, “Chinese Literature,” p. 169.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a><a name="INVITATION_TO_HSIAO_CHU-SHIH1" id="INVITATION_TO_HSIAO_CHU-SHIH1"></a>[37] INVITATION TO HSIAO CHÜ-SHIH<a name="FNanchor_1_25" id="FNanchor_1_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_25" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h3> + +<h4>[<i>Written when Governor of Chung-Chou</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Within the Gorges there is no lack of men;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are people one meets, not people one cares for.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At my front door guests also arrive;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are people one sits with, not people one knows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I look up, there are only clouds and trees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I look down—only my wife and child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sleep, eat, get up or sit still;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apart from that, nothing happens at all.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But beyond the city Hsiao the hermit dwells;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with <i>him</i> at least I find myself at ease.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For <i>he</i> can drink a full flagon of wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And is good at reciting long-line poems.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some afternoon, when the clerks have all gone home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At a season when the path by the river bank is dry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I beg you, take up your staff of bamboo-wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find your way to the parlour of the Government House.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_25" id="Footnote_1_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_25"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Nos. 37, 38, 39, and 40 were written when the poet was Governor +of a remote part of Ssechuan,—in the extreme west of China.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a><a name="TO_LI_CHIEN_2" id="TO_LI_CHIEN_2"></a>[38] TO LI CHIEN</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 818</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The province I govern is humble and remote;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet our festivals follow the Courtly Calendar.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At rise of day we sacrificed to the Wind God,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When darkly, darkly, dawn glimmered in the sky.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Officers followed, horsemen led the way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They brought us out to the wastes beyond the town,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where river mists fall heavier than rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the fires on the hill leap higher than the stars.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Suddenly I remembered the early levees at Court<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you and I galloped to the Purple Yard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As we walked our horses up Dragon Tail Street<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We turned our heads and gazed at the Southern Hills.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since we parted, both of us have been growing old;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And our minds have been vexed by many anxious cares.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet even now I fancy my ears are full<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the sound of jade tinkling on your bridle-straps.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a><a name="THE_SPRING_RIVER" id="THE_SPRING_RIVER"></a>[39] THE SPRING RIVER</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 820</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Heat and cold, dusk and dawn have crowded one upon the other;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly I find it is two years since I came to Chung-chou.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening drum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From my upper windows all I see is the ships that come and go.<a name="FNanchor_1_26" id="FNanchor_1_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_26" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain the orioles tempt me with their song to stray beneath the flowering trees;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain the grasses lure me by their colour to sit beside the pond.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is one thing and one alone I never tire of watching—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spring river as it trickles over the stones and babbles past the rocks.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_26" id="Footnote_1_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_26"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> “The Emperor Saga of Japan [reigned <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 810-23] one day +quoted to his Minister, Ono no Takamura, the couplet:</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">‘Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening drum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From my upper windows in the distance I see ships that come and go.’<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p>Takamura, thinking these were the Emperor’s own verses, said: +‘If I may venture to criticize an august composition, I would suggest +that the phrase “in the distance” be altered.’ The Emperor +was delighted, for he had purposely changed ‘all I see’ to ‘in the +distance I see.’ At that time there was only one copy of Po Chü-i’s +poems in Japan and the Emperor, to whom it belonged, had allowed +no one to see it.”—From the <i>Kōdanshō</i> [twelfth century].</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a><a name="AFTER_COLLECTING_THE_AUTUMN_TAXES" id="AFTER_COLLECTING_THE_AUTUMN_TAXES"></a>[40] AFTER COLLECTING THE AUTUMN TAXES</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From my high castle I look at the town below<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the natives of Pa cluster like a swarm of flies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How can I govern these people and lead them aright?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot even understand what they say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But at least I am glad, now that the taxes are in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To learn that in my province there is no discontent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I fear its prosperity is not due to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And was only caused by the year’s abundant crops,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The papers that lie on my desk are simple and few;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My house by the moat is leisurely and still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the autumn rain the berries fall from the eaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the evening bell the birds return to the wood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A broken sunlight quavers over the southern porch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where I lie on my couch abandoned to idleness.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a><a name="LODGING_WITH_THE_OLD_MAN_OF_THE" id="LODGING_WITH_THE_OLD_MAN_OF_THE"></a>[41] LODGING WITH THE OLD MAN OF THE +STREAM</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 820</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Men’s hearts love gold and jade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men’s mouths covet wine and flesh.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not so the old man of the stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He drinks from his gourd and asks nothing more.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">South of the stream he cuts firewood and grass;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">North of the stream he has built wall and roof.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yearly he sows a single acre of land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In spring he drives two yellow calves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In these things he finds great repose;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond these he has no wish or care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By chance I met him walking by the water-side;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took me home and lodged me in his thatched hut.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I parted from him, to seek market and Court,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This old man asked my rank and pay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doubting my tale, he laughed loud and long:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Privy Councillors do not sleep in barns.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a><a name="TO_HIS_BROTHER_HSING-CHIEN" id="TO_HIS_BROTHER_HSING-CHIEN"></a>[42] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 820</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">Can the single cup of wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We drank this morning have made my heart so glad?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is a joy that comes only from within,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which those who witness will never understand.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">I have but two brothers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And bitterly grieved that both were far away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This Spring, back through the Gorges of Pa,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have come to them safely, ten thousand leagues.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Two sisters I had<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who had put up their hair, but not twined the sash;<a name="FNanchor_1_27" id="FNanchor_1_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_27" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yesterday both were married and taken away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By good husbands in whom I may well trust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am freed at last from the thoughts that made me grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though a sword had cut a rope from my neck.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And limbs grow light when the heart sheds its care:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly I seem to be flying up to the sky!<br /></span> +</div> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Hsing-chien, drink your cup of wine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then set it down and listen to what I say.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not sigh that your home is far away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Do not mind if your salary is small.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only pray that as long as life lasts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You and I may never be forced to part.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_27" id="Footnote_1_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_27"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> I.e., got married.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a><a name="THE_PINE-TREES_IN_THE_COURTYARD" id="THE_PINE-TREES_IN_THE_COURTYARD"></a>[43] THE PINE-TREES IN THE COURTYARD</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 820</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i16">Below the hall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pine-trees grow in front of the steps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Irregularly scattered,—not in ordered lines.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Some are tall and some are low:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tallest of them is six roods high;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The lowest but ten feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">They are like wild things<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And no one knows who planted them.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They touch the walls of my blue-tiled house;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their roots are sunk in the terrace of white sand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Morning and evening they are visited by the wind and moon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rain or fine,—they are free from dust and mud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the gales of autumn they whisper a vague tune;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the suns of summer they yield a cool shade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the height of spring the fine evening rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fills their leaves with a load of hanging pearls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At the year’s end the time of great snow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stamps their branches with a fret of glittering jade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the Four Seasons each has its own mood;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among all the trees none is like another.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last year, when they heard I had bought this house,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Neighbours mocked and the World called me mad—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That a whole family of twice ten souls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should move house for the sake of a few pines!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now that I have come to them, what have they given me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They have only loosened the buckles of my care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet even so, they are “profitable friends,”<a name="FNanchor_1_28" id="FNanchor_1_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_28" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>And fill my need of “converse with wise men.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet when I consider how, still a man of the world,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In belt and cap I scurry through dirt and dust,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From time to time my heart twinges with shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I am not fit to be master of my pines!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_28" id="Footnote_1_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_28"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See “Analects of Confucius” 4 and 5, where three kinds of “profitable +friends” and three kinds of “profitable pleasures” are described; +the third of the latter being “plenty of intelligent companions.”</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a><a name="SLEEPING_ON_HORSEBACK" id="SLEEPING_ON_HORSEBACK"></a>[44] SLEEPING ON HORSEBACK</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 822</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We had rode long and were still far from the inn;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My eyes grew dim; for a moment I fell asleep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under my right arm the whip still dangled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In my left hand the reins for an instant slackened.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Suddenly I woke and turned to question my groom:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“We have gone a hundred paces since you fell asleep.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Body and spirit for a while had exchanged place;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift and slow had turned to their contraries.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For these few steps that my horse had carried me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Had taken in my dream countless aeons of time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">True indeed is that saying of Wise Men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“A hundred years are but a moment of sleep.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a><a name="PARTING_FROM_THE_WINTER_STOVE" id="PARTING_FROM_THE_WINTER_STOVE"></a>[45] PARTING FROM THE WINTER STOVE</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 822</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the fifth day after the rise of Spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Everywhere the season’s gracious altitudes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The white sun gradually lengthening its course,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blue-grey clouds hanging as though they would fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The last icicle breaking into splinters of jade;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The new stems marshalling red sprouts.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The things I meet are all full of gladness;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is not only <i>I</i> who love the Spring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To welcome the flowers I stand in the back garden;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To enjoy the sunlight I sit under the front eaves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet still in my heart there lingers one regret;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soon I shall part with the flame of my red stove!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a><a name="GOOD-BYE_TO_THE_PEOPLE_OF_HANGCHOW" id="GOOD-BYE_TO_THE_PEOPLE_OF_HANGCHOW"></a>[46] GOOD-BYE TO THE PEOPLE OF HANGCHOW</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 824</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Elders and officers line the returning road;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wine and soup load the parting table.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have not ruled you with the wisdom of Shao Kung;<a name="FNanchor_1_29" id="FNanchor_1_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_29" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">What is the reason your tears should fall so fast?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My taxes were heavy, though many of the people were poor;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The farmers were hungry, for often their fields were dry.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All I did was to dam the water of the Lake<a name="FNanchor_2_30" id="FNanchor_2_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_30" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">And help a little in a year when things were bad.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_29" id="Footnote_1_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_29"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A legendary ruler who dispensed justice sitting under a wild +pear-tree.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_30" id="Footnote_2_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_30"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Po Chü-i built the dam on the Western Lake which is still known +as “Po’s dam.”</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a><a name="WRITTEN_WHEN_GOVERNOR_OF_SOOCHOW" id="WRITTEN_WHEN_GOVERNOR_OF_SOOCHOW"></a>[47] WRITTEN WHEN GOVERNOR OF SOOCHOW</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 825</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A Government building, not my own home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Government garden, not my own trees.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But at Lo-yang I have a small house<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on Wei River I have built a thatched hut.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am free from the ties of marrying and giving in marriage;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I choose to retire, I have somewhere to end my days.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And though I have lingered long beyond my time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To retire now would be better than not at all!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a><a name="GETTING_UP_EARLY_ON_A_SPRING_MORNING" id="GETTING_UP_EARLY_ON_A_SPRING_MORNING"></a>[48] GETTING UP EARLY ON A SPRING MORNING</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Part of a poem written when Governor of Soochow in 825</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The early light of the rising sun shines on the beams of my house;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The first banging of opened doors echoes like the roll of a drum.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dog lies curled on the stone step, for the earth is wet with dew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The birds come near to the window and chatter, telling that the day is fine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the lingering fumes of yesterday’s wine my head is still heavy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With new doffing of winter clothes my body has grown light.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a><a name="LOSING_A_SLAVE-GIRL" id="LOSING_A_SLAVE-GIRL"></a>[49] LOSING A SLAVE-GIRL</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Date uncertain</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Around my garden the little wall is low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the bailiff’s lodge the lists are seldom checked.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am ashamed to think we were not always kind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I regret your labours, that will never be repaid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The caged bird owes no allegiance;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind-tossed flower does not cling to the tree.<br /></span> +</div> +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where to-night she lies none can give us news;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor any knows, save the bright watching moon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a><a name="THE_GRAND_HOUSES_AT_LO-YANG" id="THE_GRAND_HOUSES_AT_LO-YANG"></a>[50] THE GRAND HOUSES AT LO-YANG</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Circa <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 829</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By woods and water, whose houses are these<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With high gates and wide-stretching lands?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From their blue gables gilded fishes hang;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By their red pillars carven coursers run.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their spring arbours, warm with caged mist;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their autumn yards with locked moonlight cold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the stem of the pine-tree amber beads cling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bamboo-branches ooze ruby-drops.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of lake and terrace who may the masters be?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Staff-officers, Councillors-of-State.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All their lives they have never come to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But know their houses only from the bailiff’s map!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a><a name="THE_CRANES" id="THE_CRANES"></a>[51] THE CRANES</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 830</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The western wind has blown but a few days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet the first leaf already flies from the bough.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the drying paths I walk in my thin shoes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the first cold I have donned my quilted coat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through shallow ditches the floods are clearing away;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through sparse bamboos trickles a slanting light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the early dusk, down an alley of green moss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The garden-boy is leading the cranes home.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a><a name="ON_HIS_BALDNESS" id="ON_HIS_BALDNESS"></a>[52] ON HIS BALDNESS</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 832</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At dawn I sighed to see my hairs fall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At dusk I sighed to see my hairs fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For I dreaded the time when the last lock should go ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They are all gone and I do not mind at all!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have done with that cumbrous washing and getting dry;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My tiresome comb for ever is laid aside.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Best of all, when the weather is hot and wet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To have no top-knot weighing down on one’s head!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I put aside my dusty conical cap;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And loose my collar-fringe.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a silver jar I have stored a cold stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On my bald pate I trickle a ladle-full.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like one baptized with the Water of Buddha’s Law,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sit and receive this cool, cleansing joy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Now</i> I know why the priest who seeks Repose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frees his heart by first shaving his head.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a><a name="THINKING_OF_THE_PAST" id="THINKING_OF_THE_PAST"></a>[53] THINKING OF THE PAST</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 833</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In an idle hour I thought of former days;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And former friends seemed to be standing in the room.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then I wondered “Where are they now?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like fallen leaves they have tumbled to the Nether Springs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Han Yü<a name="FNanchor_1_31" id="FNanchor_1_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_31" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> swallowed his sulphur pills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet a single illness carried him straight to the grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yüan Chēn smelted autumn stone<a name="FNanchor_2_32" id="FNanchor_2_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_32" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">But before he was old, his strength crumbled away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Master Tu possessed the “Secret of Health”:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All day long he fasted from meat and spice.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Lord Ts‘ui, trusting a strong drug,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the whole winter wore his summer coat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet some by illness and some by sudden death ...<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All vanished ere their middle years were passed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Only I, who have never dieted myself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have thus protracted a tedious span of age,<br /></span> +<span class="i10">I who in young days<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yielded lightly to every lust and greed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose palate craved only for the richest meat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And knew nothing of bismuth or calomel.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When hunger came, I gulped steaming food;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thirst came, I drank from the frozen stream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With verse I served the spirits of my Five Guts;<a name="FNanchor_3_33" id="FNanchor_3_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_33" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wine I watered the three Vital Spots.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>Day by day joining the broken clod<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have lived till now almost sound and whole.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There is no gap in my two rows of teeth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Limbs and body still serve me well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Already I have opened the seventh book of years;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I eat my fill and sleep quietly;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I drink, while I may, the wine that lies in my cup,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all else commit to Heaven’s care.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_31" id="Footnote_1_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_31"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The famous poet, d. 824 <span class="smcap">a.d.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_32" id="Footnote_2_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_32"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Carbamide crystals.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_33" id="Footnote_3_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_33"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Heart, liver, stomach, lungs and kidney.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a><a name="A_MAD_POEM_ADDRESSED_TO_MY_NEPHEWS_AND_NIECES" id="A_MAD_POEM_ADDRESSED_TO_MY_NEPHEWS_AND_NIECES"></a>[54] A MAD POEM ADDRESSED TO MY NEPHEWS AND NIECES</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 835</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The World cheats those who cannot read;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I</i>, happily, have mastered script and pen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The World cheats those who hold no office;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I</i> am blessed with high official rank.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The old are often ill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I</i>, at this day have not an ache or pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">They are often burdened with ties;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But <i>I</i> have finished with marriage and giving in marriage.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No changes happen to disturb the quiet of my mind;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No business comes to impair the vigour of my limbs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hence it is that now for ten years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Body and soul have rested in hermit peace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the more, in the last lingering years<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What I shall need are very few things.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A single rug to warm me through the winter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One meal to last me the whole day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It does not matter that my house is rather small;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One cannot sleep in more than one room!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It does not matter that I have not many horses;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One cannot ride in two coaches at once!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As fortunate as me among the people of the world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Possibly one would find seven out of ten.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As contented as me among a hundred men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look as you may, you will not find one.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the affairs of others even fools are wise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In their own business even sages err.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To no one else would I dare to speak my heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So my wild words are addressed to my nephews and nieces.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a><a name="OLD_AGE" id="OLD_AGE"></a>[55] OLD AGE</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Addressed to Liu Yü-hsi, who was born in the same year</i>]</h4> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 835</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We are growing old together, you and I,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us ask ourselves, what is age like?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dull eye is closed ere night comes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The idle head, still uncombed at noon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Propped on a staff, sometimes a walk abroad;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or all day sitting with closed doors.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One dares not look in the mirror’s polished face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One cannot read small-letter books.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deeper and deeper, one’s love of old friends;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fewer and fewer, one’s dealings with young men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One thing only, the pleasure of idle talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is great as ever, when you and I meet.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a><a name="TO_A_TALKATIVE_GUEST" id="TO_A_TALKATIVE_GUEST"></a>[56] TO A TALKATIVE GUEST</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 836</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The town visitor’s easy talk flows in an endless stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The country host’s quiet thoughts ramble timidly on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“I beg you, Sir, do not tell me about things at Ch‘ang-an;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For you entered just when my harp was tuned and lying balanced on my knees.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a><a name="TO_LIU_YU-HSI" id="TO_LIU_YU-HSI"></a>[57] TO LIU YU-HSI</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 838</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In length of days and soundness of limb you and I are one;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our eyes are not wholly blind, nor our ears quite deaf.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep drinking we lie together, fellows of a spring day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or gay-hearted boldly break into gatherings of young men.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, seeking flowers, we borrowed his horse, the river-keeper was vexed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When, to play on the water, we stole his boat, the Duke Ling was sore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hear it said that in Lo-yang, people are all shocked,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And call us by the name of “Liu and Po, those two mad old men.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a><a name="MY_SERVANT_WAKES_ME" id="MY_SERVANT_WAKES_ME"></a>[58] MY SERVANT WAKES ME</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 839</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My servant wakes me: “Master, it is broad day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise from bed; I bring you bowl and comb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Winter comes and the morning air is chill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day your Honour must not venture abroad.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I stay at home, no one comes to call;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What must I do with the long, idle hours?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Setting my chair where a faint sunshine falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have warmed wine and opened my poetry-books.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a><a name="SINCE_I_LAY_ILL" id="SINCE_I_LAY_ILL"></a>[59] SINCE I LAY ILL</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 840</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since I lay ill, how long has passed?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Almost a hundred heavy-hanging days.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The maids have learnt to gather my medicine-herbs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dog no longer barks when the doctor comes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jars in my cellar are plastered deep with mould;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My singer’s carpets are half crumbled to dust.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How can I bear, when the Earth renews her light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To watch from a pillow the beauty of Spring unfold?<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a><a name="SONG_OF_PAST_FEELINGS_With_Preface" id="SONG_OF_PAST_FEELINGS_With_Preface"></a>[60] SONG OF PAST FEELINGS [With Preface]</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Circa <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 840</i>]</h4> + + +<p>When Lo-t‘ien[1] was old, he fell ill of a palsy. So he +made a list of his possessions and examined his expenses, +that he might reject whatever had become superfluous. He +had in his employ a girl about twenty years old called Fan +Su, whose postures delighted him when she sang or danced. +But above all she excelled in singing the “Willow-Branch,” +so that many called her by the name of this song, and she +was well known by this name in the town of Lo-yang. But +she was on the list of unnecessary expenses and was to be +sent away.</p> + +<p>He had too a white horse with black mane, sturdy and +sure-footed, which he had ridden for many years. It stood +on the list of things which could be dispensed with, and was +to be sold. When the groom led the horse through the +gate, it tossed its head and looked back, neighing once +with a sound in its voice that seemed to say: “I know I am +leaving you and long to stay.” Su, when she heard the +horse neigh, rose timidly, bowed before me and spoke +sweetly, as shall hereafter be shown. When she had done +speaking her tears fell.</p> + +<p>When first I heard Su’s words, I was too sad to speak +and could not answer her. But in a little while I ordered +the bridle to be turned and the sleeve reversed.<a name="FNanchor_1_34" id="FNanchor_1_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_34" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Then I +gave her wine and drank a cup myself, and in my happiness +sang a few score notes. And these notes turned into a +poem, a poem without fixed measure, for the measure followed +my irregular tune. In all there were 255 words.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a>Alas! I am no Sage. I could neither forget past feelings +nor show such sensibility as this beast reputed incapable +of feeling! Things that happen lay hold of my +heart, and when my heart is moved, I cannot control it. +Therefore, smiling at myself, I called this song “A Song of +Past Feelings Unforgotten.”</p> + +<p>The Song says:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>I was selling my white horse</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And sending Willow Branch away.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>She covered her dark eyebrows;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>He trailed his golden halter.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The horse, for want of speech,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Neighed long and turned his head;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And Willow Branch, twice bowing,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Knelt long and spoke to me:</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>“Master, you have ridden this horse five years,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>One thousand eight hundred days;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Meekly he has borne the bit,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Without shying, without bolting.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And I have served you for ten years,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Three thousand and six hundred days;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="typo_1" id="typo_1"></a><i>Patient carrier of towel and comb,<a name="FNanchor_2_35" id="FNanchor_2_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_35" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Without complaint, without loss.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And now, though my shape is lowly,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I am still fresh and strong.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And the colt is still in his prime,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Without lameness or fault.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Why should you not use the colt’s strength</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To replace your sick legs?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a>Why should you not use my song to gladden your casual cup?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Need you in one morning send both away,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Send them away never to return?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>This is what Su would say to you before she goes,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And this is what your horse meant also</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>When he neighed at the gate.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Seeing my distress, who am a woman,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And hearing its cries, that is but a horse,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Shall our master alone remain pitiless?”</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I looked up and sighed: I looked down and laughed. +Then I said:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>“Dear horse, stop your sad cries!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sweet Su, dry your bitter tears!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For you shall go back to your stall;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And you to the women’s room.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For though I am ill indeed,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And though my years are at their close,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The doom of Hsiang Chi<a name="FNanchor_3_36" id="FNanchor_3_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_36" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> has not befallen me yet.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Must I in a single day</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Lose the horse I rode and the lady I loved?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Su, O Su!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Sing once again the Song of the Willow Branch!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And I will pour you wine in that golden cup</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And take you with me to the Land of Drunkenness.”</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_34" id="Footnote_1_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_34"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> I.e., Po Chü-i himself.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_35" id="Footnote_2_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_35"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> I.e., performing the functions of a wife.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_36" id="Footnote_3_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_36"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Who, surrounded at the battle of Kai-hsia (202 <span class="smcap">b.c.</span>), gave his +horse to a boatman, lest it should fall into the hands of the enemy.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a><a name="ILLNESS" id="ILLNESS"></a>[61] ILLNESS</h3> + +<h4>[<i>Written circa 842, when he was paralyzed</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dear friends, there is no cause for so much sympathy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall certainly manage from time to time to take my walks abroad.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All that matters is an active mind, what is the use of feet?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By land one can ride in a carrying-chair; by water, be rowed in a boat.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a><a name="RESIGNATION" id="RESIGNATION"></a>[62] RESIGNATION</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Keep off your thoughts from things that are past and done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thinking of the past wakes regret and pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep off your thoughts from thinking what will happen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To think of the future fills one with dismay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better by day to sit like a sack in your chair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Better by night to lie a stone in your bed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When food comes, then open your mouth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When sleep comes, then close your eyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a><a name="YUAN_CHEN" id="YUAN_CHEN"></a>YÜAN CHEN</h2> + +<h5>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 799-831</i>]</h5> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a><a name="THE_STORY_OF_TSUI_YING-YING" id="THE_STORY_OF_TSUI_YING-YING"></a>[63] THE STORY OF TS‘UI YING-YING</h3> + + +<p>During the Chēng-Yüan<a name="FNanchor_1_37" id="FNanchor_1_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_37" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> period of the T‘ang dynasty +there lived a man called Chang.<a name="FNanchor_2_38" id="FNanchor_2_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_38" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> His nature was gentle +and refined, and his person of great beauty. But his deeper +feelings were resolutely held in restraint, and he would indulge +in no license. Sometimes his friends took him to a +party and he would try to join their frolics; but when the +rest were shouting and scuffling their hardest, Chang only +pretended to take his share. For he could never overcome +his shyness. So it came about that though already twenty-three, +he had not yet enjoyed a woman’s beauty. To those +who questioned him he answered, “It is not such as Master +Tēng-t’u<a name="FNanchor_3_39" id="FNanchor_3_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_39" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> who are true lovers of beauty; for they are merely +profligates. I consider myself a lover of beauty, who happens +never to have met with it. And I am of this opinion +because I know that, in other things, whatever is beautiful +casts its spell upon me; so that I cannot be devoid of feeling.” +His questioners only laughed.</p> + +<p>About this time Chang went to Puchow. Some two miles +east of the town there is a temple called the P‘-u-chiu-ssŭ, +and here he took up his lodging. Now it happened that at +this time the widow of a certain Ts‘ui was returning to +Ch‘ang-an.<a name="FNanchor_4_40" id="FNanchor_4_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_40" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> She passed through Puchow on her way and +stayed at the same temple.</p> + +<p>This lady was born of the Chēng family and Chang’s +mother was also a Chēng. He unravelled their relationship +and found that they were second-cousins.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>This year General Hun-Chan<a name="FNanchor_5_41" id="FNanchor_5_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_41" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> died at Puchow. There +was a certain Colonel Ting Wēn-ya who ill-treated his +troops. The soldiers accordingly made Hun Chan’s funeral +the occasion of a mutiny, and began to plunder the +town. The Ts‘ui family had brought with them much valuable +property and many slaves. Subjected to this sudden +danger when far from home, they had no one from whom +they could seek protection.</p> + +<p>Now it happened that Chang had been friendly with the +political party to which the commander at Puchow belonged. +At his request a guard was sent to the temple and +no disorder took place there. A few days afterwards the +Civil Commissioner Tu Chio was ordered by the Emperor +to take over the command of the troops. The mutineers +then laid down their arms.</p> + +<p>The widow Chēng was very sensible of the service which +Chang had rendered. She therefore provided dainties and +invited him to a banquet in the middle hall. At table she +turned to him and said, “I, your cousin, a lonely and +widowed relict, had young ones in my care. If we had +fallen into the hands of the soldiery, I could not have +helped them. Therefore the lives of my little boy and +young daughter were saved by your protection, and they +owe you eternal gratitude. I will now cause them to kneel +before you, their merciful cousin, that they may thank you +for your favours.” First she sent for her son, Huan-lang, +who was about ten years old, a handsome and gentle +child. Then she called to her daughter, Ying-ying: “Come +and bow to your cousin. Your cousin saved your life.” +For a long while she would not come, saying that she was +<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a>not well. The widow grew angry and cried: “Your cousin +saved your life. But for his help, you would now be a +prisoner. How can you treat him so rudely?”</p> + +<p>At last she came in, dressed in everyday clothes, with a +look of deep unhappiness in her face. She had not put on +any ornaments. Her hair hung down in coils, the black of +her two eyebrows joined, her cheeks were not rouged. But +her features were of exquisite beauty and shone with an almost +dazzling lustre.</p> + +<p>Chang bowed to her, amazed. She sat down by her +mother’s side and looked all the time towards her, turning +from him with a fixed stare of aversion, as though she could +not endure his presence.</p> + +<p>He asked how old she was. The widow answered, “She +was born in the year of the present Emperor’s reign that was +a year of the Rat, and now it is the year of the Dragon in the +period Chēng-yüan.<a name="FNanchor_6_42" id="FNanchor_6_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_42" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> So she must be seventeen years old.”</p> + +<p>Chang tried to engage her in conversation, but she would +not answer, and soon the dinner was over. He was passionately +in love with her and wanted to tell her so, but could +find no way.</p> + +<p>Ying-ying had a maid-servant called Hung-niang, whom +Chang sometimes met and greeted. Once he stopped her +and was beginning to tell her of his love for her mistress; +but she was frightened and ran away. Then Chang was +sorry he had not kept silence.</p> + +<p>Next day he met Hung-niang again, but was ashamed and +did not say what was in his mind. But this time the maid +herself broached the subject and said to Chang, “Master, I +dare not tell her what you told me, or even hint at it. But +<a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a>since your mother was a kinswoman of the Ts‘uis, why do +you not seek my mistress’s hand on that plea?”</p> + +<p>Chang said, “Since I was a child in arms, my nature has +been averse to intimacy. Sometimes I have idled with +wearers of silk and gauze, but my fancy was never once +detained. I little thought that in the end I should be entrapped.</p> + +<p>“Lately at the banquet I could scarcely contain myself; +and since then, when I walk, I forget where I am going +and when I eat, I forget to finish my meal, and do not know +how to endure the hours from dawn to dusk.</p> + +<p>“If we were to get married through a matchmaker and +perform the ceremonies of Sending Presents and Asking +Names, it would take many months, and by that time you +would have to look for me ‘in the dried-fish shop.’ What +is the use of giving me such advice as that?”</p> + +<p>The maid replied, “My mistress clings steadfastly to +her chastity, and even an equal could not trip her with lewd +talk. Much less may she be won through the stratagems of +a maid-servant. But she is skilled in composition, and often +when she has made a poem or essay, she is restless and dissatisfied +for a long while after. You must try to provoke +her by a love-poem. There is no other way.”</p> + +<p>Chang was delighted and at once composed two Spring +Poems to send her. Hung-niang took them away and came +back the same evening with a coloured tablet, which she +gave to Chang, saying, “This is from my mistress.” It +bore the title “The Bright Moon of the Fifteenth Night.” +The words ran:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>To wait for the moon I am sitting in the western parlour;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To greet the wind, I have left the door ajar.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a><i>When a flower’s shadow stirred and brushed the wall,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For a moment I thought it the shadow of a lover coming.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Chang could not doubt her meaning. That night was +the fourth after the first decade of the second month. Beside +the eastern wall of Ts‘ui’s apartments there grew an +apricot-tree; by climbing it one could cross the wall. On +the next night (which was the night of the full moon) Chang +used the tree as a ladder and crossed the wall. He went +straight to the western parlour and found the door ajar. +Hung-niang lay asleep on the bed. He woke her, and she +cried in a voice of astonishment, “Master Chang, what are +you doing here?” Chang answered, half-truly: “Ts‘ui’s +letter invited me. Tell her I have come.” Hung-niang +soon returned, whispering, “She is coming, she is coming.” +Chang was both delighted and surprised, thinking that his +salvation was indeed at hand.</p> + +<p>At last Ts‘ui entered.</p> + +<p>Her dress was sober and correct, and her face was stern. +She at once began to reprimand Chang, saying, “I am +grateful for the service which you rendered to my family. +You gave support to my dear mother when she was at a loss +how to save her little boy and young daughter. How came +you to send me a wicked message by the hand of a low maid-servant? +In protecting me from the license of others, you +acted nobly. But now that you wish to make me a partner +to your own licentious desires, you are asking me to accept +one wrong in exchange for another.</p> + +<p>“How was I to repel this advance? I would gladly have +hidden your letter, but it would have been immoral to +harbour a record of illicit proposals. Had I shown it to +my mother, I should ill have requited the debt we owe you. +<a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a>Were I to entrust a message of refusal to a servant or concubine, +I feared it might not be truly delivered. I thought +of writing a letter to tell you what I felt; but I was afraid +I might not be able to make you understand. So I sent +those trivial verses, that I might be sure of your coming. I +have no cause to be ashamed of an irregularity which had +no other object but the preservation of my chastity.”</p> + +<p>With these words she vanished. Chang remained for a +long while petrified with astonishment. At last he climbed +back over the wall and went home in despair.</p> + +<p>Several nights after this he was lying asleep near the +verandah, when some one suddenly woke him. He rose +with a startled sigh and found that Hung-niang was there, +with <a name="typo_4" id="typo_4"></a>bedclothes under her arm and a pillow in her hand. +She shook Chang, saying, “She is coming, she is coming. +Why are you asleep?” Then she arranged the bedclothes +and pillow and went away.</p> + +<p>Chang sat up and rubbed his eyes. For a long while he +thought he must be dreaming, but he assumed a respectful +attitude and waited.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Hung-niang came back, bringing her mistress +with her. Ts‘ui, this time, was languid and flushed, yielding +and wanton in her air, as though her strength could +scarcely support her limbs. Her former severity had +utterly disappeared.</p> + +<p>That night was the eighth of the second decade. The crystal +beams of the sinking moon twinkled secretly across their +bed. Chang, in a strange exaltation, half-believed that a +fairy had come to him, and not a child of mortal men.</p> + +<p>At last the temple bell sounded, dawn glimmered in the +sky and Hung-niang came back to fetch her mistress away. +Ts‘ui turned on her side with a pretty cry, and followed her +maid to the door.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>The whole night she had not spoken a word.</p> + +<p>Chang rose when it was half-dark, still thinking that perhaps +it had been a dream. But when it grew light, he saw +her powder on his arm and smelt her perfume in his clothes. +A tear she had shed still glittered on the mattress.</p> + +<p>For more than ten days afterwards he did not see her +again. During this time he began to make a poem called +“Meeting a Fairy,” in thirty couplets. It was not yet finished, +when he chanced to meet Hung-niang in the road. +He asked her to take the poem to Ts‘ui.</p> + +<p>After this Ts‘ui let him come to her, and for a month or +more he crept out at dawn and in at dusk, the two of them +living together in that western parlour of which I spoke +before.</p> + +<p>Chang often asked her what her mother thought of him. +Ts‘ui said, “I know she would not oppose my will. So why +should we not get married at once?”</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards, Chang had to go to the capital. Before +starting, he tenderly informed her of his departure. +She did not reproach him, but her face showed pitiable distress. +On the night before he started, he was not able to +see her.</p> + +<p>After spending a few months in the west, Chang returned +to Puchow and again lodged for several months in the same +building as the Ts‘uis. He made many attempts to see +Ying-ying alone, but she would not let him do so. Remembering +that she was fond of calligraphy and verse, he frequently +sent her his own compositions, but she scarcely +glanced at them.</p> + +<p>It was characteristic of her that when any situation was +at its acutest point, she appeared quite unconscious of it. +She talked glibly, but would seldom answer a question. +<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a>She expected absolute devotion, but herself gave no encouragement.</p> + +<p>Sometimes when she was in the depth of despair, she +would affect all the while to be quite indifferent. It was +rarely possible to know from her face whether she was +pleased or sorry.</p> + +<p>One night Chang came upon her unawares when she was +playing on the harp, with a touch full of passion. But +when she saw him coming, she stopped playing. This incident +increased his infatuation.</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards, it became time for him to compete in +the Literary Examinations, and he was obliged once more +to set out for the western capital.</p> + +<p>The evening before his departure, he sat in deep despondency +by Ts‘ui’s side, but did not try again to tell her +of his love. Nor had he told her that he was going away, +but she seemed to have guessed it, and with submissive face +and gentle voice, she said to him softly: “Those whom a +man leads astray, he will in the end abandon. It must be +so, and I will not reproach you. You deigned to corrupt me +and now you deign to leave me. That is all. And your +vows of ‘faithfulness till death’—they too are cancelled. +There is no need for you to grieve at this parting, but since +I see you so sad and can give you no other comfort—you +once praised my harp-playing; but I was bashful and would +not play to you. Now I am bolder, and if you choose, I +will play you a tune.”</p> + +<p>She took her harp and began the prelude to “Rainbow +Skirts and Feather Jackets.”<a name="FNanchor_7_43" id="FNanchor_7_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_43" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> But after a few bars the +tune broke off into a wild and passionate dirge.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>All who were present caught their breath; but in a moment +she stopped playing, threw down her harp and, weeping +bitterly, ran to her mother’s room.</p> + +<p>She did not come back.</p> + +<p>Next morning Chang left. The following year he failed +in his examinations and could not leave the capital. So, to +unburden his heart, he wrote a letter to Ts‘ui. She answered +him somewhat in this fashion: “I have read your +letter and cherish it dearly. It has filled my heart half +with sorrow, half with joy. You sent with it a box of +garlands and five sticks of paste, that I may decorate my +head and colour my lips.</p> + +<p>“I thank you for your presents; but there is no one now +to care how I look. Seeing these things only makes me +think of you and grieve the more.</p> + +<p>“You say that you are prospering in your career at the +capital, and I am comforted by that news. But it makes +me fear you will never come back again to one who is so +distant and humble. But <i>that</i> is settled forever, and it is +no use talking of it.</p> + +<p>“Since last autumn I have lived in a dazed stupor. Amid +the clamour of the daytime, I have sometimes forced myself +to laugh and talk; but alone at night I have done nothing +but weep. Or, if I have fallen asleep my dreams have always +been full of the sorrows of parting. Often I dreamt +that you came to me as you used to do, but always before +the moment of our joy your phantom vanished from my +side. Yet, though we are still bedfellows in my dreams, +when I wake and think of it the time when we were together +seems very far off. For since we parted, the old year has +slipped away and a new year has begun....</p> + +<p><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a>“Ch‘ang-an is a city of pleasure, where there are many +snares to catch a young man’s heart. How can I hope that +you will not forget one so sequestered and insignificant as +I? And indeed, if you were to be faithful, so worthless a +creature could never requite you. But our vows of unending +love—those <i>I</i> at least can fulfil.</p> + +<p><a name="typo_2" id="typo_2"></a>“Because you are my cousin, I met you at the feast. Lured +by a maid-servant, I visited you in private. A girl’s heart +is not in her own keeping. You ‘tempted me by your ballads’<a name="FNanchor_8_44" id="FNanchor_8_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_44" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> +and I could not bring myself to ‘throw the shuttle.’<a name="FNanchor_9_45" id="FNanchor_9_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_45" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></p> + +<p>“Then came the sharing of pillow and mat, the time of +perfect loyalty and deepest tenderness. And I, being young +and foolish, thought it would never end.</p> + +<p>“Now, having ‘seen my Prince,’<a name="FNanchor_10_46" id="FNanchor_10_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_46" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> I cannot love again; nor, +branded by the shame of self-surrender, am I fit to perform +‘the service of towel and comb’;<a name="FNanchor_11_47" id="FNanchor_11_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_47" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> and of the bitterness of +the long celibacy which awaits me, what need is there to +speak?</p> + +<p>“The good man uses his heart; and if by chance his gaze +has fallen on the humble and insignificant, till the day of +his death, he continues the affections of his life. The cynic +cares nothing for people’s feelings. He will discard the +small to follow the great, look upon a former mistress +merely as an accomplice in sin, and hold that the most +solemn vows are made only to be broken. He will reverse +all natural laws—as though Nature should suddenly let +bone dissolve, while cinnabar resisted the fire. The dew +<a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>that the wind has shaken from the tree still looks for kindness +from the dust; and such, too, is the sum of <i>my</i> hopes +and fears.</p> + +<p>“As I write, I am shaken by sobs and cannot tell you all +that is in my heart. My darling, I am sending you a jade +ring that I used to play with when I was a child. I want +you to wear it at your girdle, that you may become firm +and flawless as this jade, and, in your affections, unbroken +as the circuit of this ring.</p> + +<p>“And with it I am sending a skein of thread and a tea-trough +of flecked bamboo. There is no value in these few +things. I send them only to remind you to keep your heart +pure as jade and your affection unending as this round ring. +The bamboo is mottled as if with tears, and the thread is +tangled as the thoughts of those who are in sorrow. By +these tokens I seek no more than that, knowing the truth, +you may think kindly of me for ever.</p> + +<p>“Our hearts are very near, but our bodies are far apart. +There is no time fixed for our meeting; yet a secret longing +can unite souls that are separated by a thousand miles.</p> + +<p>“Protect yourself against the cold spring wind, eat well—look +after yourself in all ways and do not worry too +much about your worthless handmaid,</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Ts‘ui Ying-ying</span>.”</p> + +<p>Chang showed this letter to his friends and so the story +became known to many who lived at that time. All who +heard it were deeply moved; but Chang, to their disappointment, +declared that he meant to break with Ts‘ui. +Yüan Chēn, of Honan, who knew Chang well, asked him +why he had made this decision.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>Chang answered:</p> + +<p>“I have observed that in Nature whatever has perfect +beauty is either itself liable to sudden transformations or +else is the cause of them in others. If Ts‘ui were to marry +a rich gentleman and become his pet, she would forever be +changing, as the clouds change to rain, or as the scaly +dragon turns into the horned dragon. I, for one, could +never keep pace with her transformations.</p> + +<p>“Of old, Hsin of the Yin dynasty and Yu of the Chou +dynasty ruled over kingdoms of many thousand chariots, +and their strength was very great. Yet a single woman +brought them to ruin, dissipating their hosts and leading +these monarchs to the assassin’s knife. So that to this day +they are a laughing-stock to all the world. I know that +my constancy could not withstand such spells, and that is +why I have curbed my passion.”</p> + +<p>At these words all who were present sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>A few years afterwards Ts‘ui married some one else and +Chang also found a wife. Happening once to pass the +house where Ts‘ui was living, he called on her husband and +asked to see her, saying he was her cousin. The husband +sent for her, but she would not come. Chang’s vexation +showed itself in his face. Some one told Ts‘ui of this and +she secretly wrote the poem:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Since I have grown so lean, my face has lost its beauty.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I have tossed and turned so many times that I am too tired to leave my bed.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>It is not that I mind the others seeing</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>How ugly I have grown;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>It is </i>you<i> who have caused me to lose my beauty,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Yet it is </i>you<i> I am ashamed should see me!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>Chang went away without meeting her, and a few days +afterwards, when he was leaving the town, wrote a poem of +final farewell, which said:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>You cannot say that you are abandoned and deserted;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>For you have found some one to love you.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Why do you not convert your broodings over the past</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Into kindness to your present husband?</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>After that they never heard of one another again. Many +of Chang’s contemporaries praised the skill with which he +extricated himself from this entanglement.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_37" id="Footnote_1_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_37"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 785-805.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_38" id="Footnote_2_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_38"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> I.e., Yüan Chēn himself.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_39" id="Footnote_3_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_39"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Type of the indiscriminate lover, fourth century <span class="smcap">b.c.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_40" id="Footnote_4_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_40"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The capital of China at that time; now called Hsi-an-fu.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_41" id="Footnote_5_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_41"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> B. <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 735; d. 799. Famous for his campaigns against the +Tibetans and Uighurs.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_42" id="Footnote_6_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_42"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> I.e., <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 800.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_43" id="Footnote_7_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_43"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> A gay, court tune of the eighth century.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_44" id="Footnote_8_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_44"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> As Ssŭ-ma tempted Cho Wēn-chün, second century <span class="smcap">b.c.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_45" id="Footnote_9_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_45"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> As the neighbour’s daughter did to Hsieh Kun (<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> fourth century), +in order to repel his advances.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_46" id="Footnote_10_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_46"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Odes I. 1., X. 2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_47" id="Footnote_11_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_47"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> = become a bride.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a><a name="THE_PITCHER" id="THE_PITCHER"></a>[64] THE PITCHER</h3> + +<h4>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 779-831</i>]</h4> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I dreamt I climbed to a high, high plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the plain I found a deep well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My throat was dry with climbing and I longed to drink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my eyes were eager to look into the cool shaft.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I walked round it; I looked right down;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw my image mirrored on the face of the pool.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An earthen pitcher was sinking into the black depths;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was no rope to pull it to the well-head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I was strangely troubled lest the pitcher should be lost,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And started wildly running to look for help.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From village to village I scoured that high plain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The men were gone: the dogs leapt at my throat.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I came back and walked weeping round the well;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faster and faster the blinding tears flowed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till my own sobbing suddenly woke me up;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My room was silent; no one in the house stirred;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flame of my candle flickered with a green smoke;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tears I had shed glittered in the candle-light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bell sounded; I knew it was the midnight-chime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sat up in bed and tried to arrange my thoughts:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The plain in my dream was the graveyard at Ch‘ang-an,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those hundred acres of untilled land.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The soil heavy and the mounds heaped high;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the dead below them laid in deep troughs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep are the troughs, yet sometimes dead men<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Find their way to the world above the grave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to-night my love who died long ago<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came into my dream as the pitcher sunk in the well.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That was why the tears suddenly streamed from my eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Streamed from my eyes and fell on the collar of my dress.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a><a name="PO_HSING-CHIEN" id="PO_HSING-CHIEN"></a>PO HSING-CHIEN</h2> + +<h5>[<i><span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 799-831</i>]</h5> + +<h5>[<i>Brother</i> of Po-Chü-i]</h5> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a><a name="THE_STORY_OF_MISS_LI" id="THE_STORY_OF_MISS_LI"></a>[65] THE STORY OF MISS LI</h3> + + +<p>Miss Li, ennobled with the title “Lady of Ch‘ien-kuo,” +was once a prostitute in Ch‘ang-an. The devotion of her +conduct was so remarkable that I have thought it worth +while to record her story. In the T‘ien-pao era<a name="FNanchor_1_48" id="FNanchor_1_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_48" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> there was +a certain nobleman, Governor of Ch‘ang-chou and Lord of +Jung-yang, whose name and surname I will omit. He was +a man of great wealth and highly esteemed by all. He had +passed his fiftieth year and had a son who was close on +twenty, a boy who in literary talent outstripped all his companions. +His father was proud of him and had great hopes +of his future. “This,” he would say, “is the ‘thousand-league +colt’ of our family.” When the time came for the +lad to compete at the Provincial Examinations, his father +gave him fine clothes and a handsome coach with richly +caparisoned horses for the journey; and to provide for his +expense at the Capital, he gave him a large sum of money, +saying, “I am sure that your talent is such that you will +succeed at the first attempt; but I am giving you two +years’ supply, that you may pursue your career free from +all anxiety.” The young man was also quite confident and +saw himself getting the first place as clearly as he saw the +palm of his own hand.</p> + +<p>Starting from P‘i-ling<a name="FNanchor_2_49" id="FNanchor_2_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_49" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> he reached Ch‘ang-an in a few +weeks and took a house in the Pu-chēng quarter. One day +he was coming back from a visit to the Eastern Market. He +entered the City by the eastern gate of P‘ing-k‘ang and was +going to visit a friend who lived in the south-western part +of the town. When he reached the Ming-k‘o Bend, he saw +<a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a>a house of which the gate and courtyard were rather narrow; +but the house itself was stately and stood well back +from the road. One of the double doors was open, and at +it stood a lady, attended by her maid-servant. She was of +exquisite, bewitching beauty, such as the world has seldom +produced.</p> + +<p>When he saw her, the young man unconsciously reined in +his horse and hesitated. Unable to leave the spot, he purposely +let his whip fall to the ground and waited for his +servant to pick it up, all the time staring at the lady in the +doorway. She too was staring and met his gaze with a look +that seemed to be an answer to his admiration. But in the +end he went away without daring to speak to her.</p> + +<p>But he could not put the thought of her out of his mind +and secretly begged those of his friends who were most +expert in the pleasures of Ch‘ang-an to tell him what they +knew of the girl. He learnt from them that the house belonged +to a low and unprincipled woman named Li. When +he asked what chance he had of winning the daughter, they +answered: “The woman Li is possessed of considerable +property, for her previous dealings have been with wealthy +and aristocratic families, from whom she has received enormous +sums. Unless you are willing to spend many thousand +pounds, the daughter will have nothing to do with +you.”</p> + +<p>The young man answered: “All I care about is to win +her. I do not mind if she costs a million pounds.” The +next day he set out in his best clothes, with many servants +riding behind him, and knocked at the door of Mrs. Li’s +house. Immediately a page-boy drew the bolt. The young +man asked, “Can you tell me whose house this is?” The +boy did not answer, but ran back into the house and called +<a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a>out at the top of his voice, “Here is the gentleman who +dropped his whip the other day!”</p> + +<p>Miss Li was evidently very much pleased. He heard her +saying, “Be sure not to let him go away. I am just going +to do my hair and change my clothes; I will be back in a +minute.” The young man, in high spirits, followed the +page-boy into the house. A white-haired old lady was going +upstairs, whom he took to be the girl’s mother. Bowing +low, the young man addressed her as follows: “I am told +that you have a vacant plot of land, which you would be +willing to let as building-ground. Is that true?” The +old lady answered, “I am afraid the site is too mean and +confined; it would be quite unsuitable for a gentleman’s +house. I should not like to offer it to you.” She then took +him into the guest-room, which was a very handsome one, +and asked him to be seated, saying, “I have a daughter who +has little either of beauty or accomplishment, but she is +fond of seeing strangers. I should like you to meet her.”</p> + +<p>So saying, she called for her daughter, who presently entered. +Her eyes sparkled with such fire, her arms were so +dazzling white and there was in her movements such an exquisite +grace that the young man could only leap to his +feet in confusion and did not dare raise his eyes. When +their salutations were over, he began to make a few remarks +about the weather; and realized as he did so that her +beauty was of a kind he had never encountered before.</p> + +<p>They sat down again. Tea was made and wine poured +out. The vessels used were spotlessly clean. He lingered +till the day was almost over; the curfew-drum sounded its +four beats. The old lady asked if he lived far away. He +answered untruthfully, “Several leagues beyond the Yen-p‘ing +Gate,” hoping that they would ask him to stay. The +<a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>old lady said, “The drum has sounded. You will have to +go back at once, unless you mean to break the law.”</p> + +<p>The young man answered, “I was being so agreeably entertained +that I did not notice how rapidly the day had fled. +My house is a long way off and in the city I have no friends +or relations. What am I to do?” Miss Li then interposed, +saying, “If you can forgive the meanness of our poor home, +what harm would there be in your spending the night with +us?” He looked doubtfully at the girl’s mother, but met +with no discouragement.</p> + +<p>Calling his servants, he gave them money and told them +to buy provisions for the night. But the girl laughingly +stopped him, saying, “That is not the way guests are entertained. +Our humble house will provide for your wants +to-night, if you are willing to partake of our simple fare +and defer your bounty to another occasion.” He tried to +refuse, but in the end she would not allow him to, and they +all moved to the western hall. The curtains, screens, blinds +and couches were of dazzling splendour; while the toilet-boxes, +rugs, and pillows were of the utmost elegance. +Candles were lighted and an excellent supper was served.</p> + +<p>After supper the old lady retired, leaving the lovers engaged +in the liveliest conversation, laughing and chattering +completely at their ease.</p> + +<p>After a while the young man said: “I passed your house +the other day and you happened to be standing at the door. +And after that, I could think of nothing but you; whether I +lay down to rest or sat down to eat, I could not stop thinking +of you.” She laughed and answered: “It was just the +same with me.“ He said: “You must know that I did not +come to-day simply to look for building-land. I came +<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>hoping that you would fulfil my lifelong desire; but I was +not sure how you would welcome me. What—”</p> + +<p>He had not finished speaking when the old woman came +back and asked what they were saying. When they told +her, she laughed and said, “Has not Mencius written that +‘the relationship between men and women is the ground-work +of society’? When lovers are agreed, not even the +mandate of a parent will deter them. But my daughter is +of humble birth. Are you sure that she is fit to ‘present +pillow and mat’ to a great man?”</p> + +<p>He came down from the daïs and, bowing low, begged +that she would accept him as her slave. Henceforward the +old lady regarded him as her son-in-law; they drank heavily +together and finally parted. Next morning he had all his +boxes and bags brought round to Mrs. Li’s house and settled +there permanently. Henceforward he shut himself up with +his mistress and none of his friends ever heard of him. +He consorted only with actors and dancers and low people +of that kind, passing the time in wild sports and wanton +feasting. When his money was all spent, he sold his horses +and men-servants. In about a year his money, property, +servants and horses were all gone.</p> + +<p>For some time the old lady’s manner towards him had +been growing gradually colder, but his mistress remained as +devoted as ever. One day she said to him, “We have been +together a year, but I am still not with child. They say +that the spirit of the Bamboo Grove answers a woman’s +prayers as surely as an echo. Let us go to his temple and +offer a libation.”</p> + +<p>The young man, not suspecting any plot, was delighted to +take her to the temple, and having pawned his coat to buy +sweet wine for the libation, he went with her and performed +<a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a>the ceremony of prayer. They stayed one night at the +temple and came back next day. Whipping up their donkey, +they soon arrived at the north gate of the P‘ing-k‘ang quarter. +At this point his mistress turned to him and said, “My +aunt’s house is in a turning just near here. How would it +be if we were to go there and rest for a little?”</p> + +<p>He drove on as she directed him, and they had not gone +more than a hundred paces, when he saw the entrance to a +spacious carriage-drive. A servant who belonged to the +place came out and stopped the cart, saying, “This is the +entrance.” The young man got down and was met by some +one who came out and asked who they were. When told +that it was Miss Li, he went back and announced her. +Presently a married lady came out who seemed to be about +forty. She greeted him, saying, “Has my niece arrived?” +Miss Li then got out of the cart and her aunt said to her: +“Why have you not been to see me for so long?” At +which they looked at one another and laughed. Then Miss +Li introduced him to her aunt and when that was over they +all went into a side garden near the Western Halberd Gate. +In the middle of the garden was a pagoda, and round it grew +bamboos and trees of every variety, while ponds and summer-houses +added to its air of seclusion. He asked Miss +Li if this were her aunt’s estate; she laughed, but did not +answer and spoke of something else.</p> + +<p>Tea of excellent quality was served; but when they had +been drinking it for a little while, a messenger came galloping +up on a huge Fergana horse, saying that Miss Li’s +mother had suddenly been taken very ill and had already +lost consciousness, so that they had better come back as +quickly as possible.</p> + +<p>Miss Li said to her aunt: “I am very much upset. I +<a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a>think I had better take the horse and ride on ahead. Then I +will send it back, and you and my husband can come along +later.” The young man was anxious to go with her, but +the aunt and her servants engaged him in conversation, +flourishing their hands in front of him and preventing him +from leaving the garden. The aunt said to him: “No doubt +my sister is dead by this time. You and I ought to discuss +together what can be done to help with the expenses of the +burial. What is the use of running off like that? Stay +here and help me to make a plan for the funeral and mourning +ceremonies.”</p> + +<p>It grew late; but the messenger had not returned. The +aunt said: “I am surprised he has not come back with the +horse. You had better go there on foot as quickly as possible +and see what has happened. I will come on later.”</p> + +<p>The young man set out on foot for Mrs. Li’s house. +When he got there he found the gate firmly bolted, locked +and sealed. Astounded, he questioned the neighbors, who +told him that the house had only been let to Mrs. Li and +that, the lease having expired, the landlord had now resumed +possession. The old lady, they said, had gone to +live elsewhere. They did not know her new address.</p> + +<p>At first he thought of hurrying back to Hsüan-yang and +questioning the aunt; but he found it was too late for him +to get there. So he pawned some of his clothes, and, with +the proceeds, bought himself supper and hired a bed. But +he was too angry and distressed to sleep, and did not once +close his eyes from dusk till dawn. Early in the morning +he dragged himself away and went to the “aunt’s house.” +He knocked on the door repeatedly, but it was breakfast-time +and no one answered. At last, when he had shouted +several times at the top of his voice, a footman walked +<a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a>majestically to the door. The young man nervously mentioned +the aunt’s name and asked whether she was at home. +The footman replied: “No one of that name here.” “But +she lived here yesterday evening,” the young man protested; +“why are you trying to deceive me? If she does +not live here, who <i>does</i> the house belong to?” The footman +answered: “This is the residence of His Excellency +Mr. Ts‘ui. I believe that yesterday some persons hired a +corner of the grounds. I understand that they wished to +entertain a cousin who was coming from a distance. But +they were gone before nightfall.”</p> + +<p>The young man, perplexed and puzzled to the point of +madness, was absolutely at a loss what to do next. The +best he could think of was to go to the quarters in Pu-chēng, +where he had installed himself when he first arrived at Ch‘ang-an. +The landlord was sympathetic and offered to +feed him. But the young man was too much upset to eat, +and having fasted for three days fell seriously ill. He +rapidly grew worse, and the landlord, fearing he would not +recover, had him moved straight to the undertaker’s shop. +In a short time the whole of the undertaker’s staff +was collected round him, offering sympathy and bringing +him food. Gradually he got better and was able to walk +with a stick.</p> + +<p>The undertaker now hired him by the day to hold up the +curtains of fine cloth, by which he earned just enough to +support himself. In a few months he grew quite strong +again, but whenever he heard the mourners’ doleful songs, +in which they regretted that they could not change places +with the corpse, burst into violent fits of sobbing and shed +streams of tears over which they lost all control, then he +used to go home and imitate their performance.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a>Being a man of intelligence, he very soon mastered the +art and finally became the most expert mourner in Ch‘ang-an. +It happened that there were two undertakers at this +time between whom there was a great rivalry. The undertaker +of the east turned out magnificent hearses and biers, +and in this respect his superiority could not be contested. +But the mourners he provided were somewhat inferior. +Hearing of our young man’s skill, he offered him a large +sum for his services. The eastern undertaker’s supporters, +who were familiar with the repertoire of his company, +secretly taught the young man several fresh tunes and +showed him how to fit the words to them. The lessons +went on for several weeks, without any one being allowed to +know of it. At the end of that time the two undertakers +agreed to hold a competitive exhibition of their wares in +T‘ien-mēn Street. The loser was to forfeit 50,000 cash to +cover the cost of the refreshments provided. Before the +exhibition an agreement was drawn up and duly signed by +witnesses.</p> + +<p>A crowd of several thousand people collected to watch the +competition. The mayor of the quarter got wind of the +proceedings and told the chief of police. The chief of +police told the governor of the city. Very soon all the +gentlemen of Ch‘ang-an were hurrying to the spot and +every house in the town was empty. The exhibition lasted +from dawn till midday. Coaches, hearses and all kinds +of funeral trappings were successively displayed, but the +undertaker of the west could establish no superiority. +Filled with shame, he set up a platform in the south corner +of the square. Presently a man with a long beard came +forward, carrying a hand-bell and attended by several +assistants. He wagged his beard, raised his eyebrows, +<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a>folded his arms across his chest and bowed. Then, mounting +the platform, he sang the “Dirge of the White Horse.” +When it was over, confident of an easy victory, he glared +round him, as if to imply that his opponents had all vanished. +He was applauded on every side and was himself +convinced that his talents were a unique product of the age +and could not possibly be called into question.</p> + +<p>After a while the undertaker of the east put together some +benches in the north corner of the square, and a young man +in a black hat came forward, attended by five assistants and +carrying a bunch of hearse-plumes in his hand. It was the +young man of our story.</p> + +<p>He adjusted his clothes, looked timidly up and down, +and then cleared his throat and began his tune with an air +of great diffidence.</p> + +<p>He sang the dirge “Dew on the Garlic.”<a name="FNanchor_3_50" id="FNanchor_3_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_50" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> His voice rose +so shrill and clear that “its echoes shook the forest trees.” +Before he had finished the first verse, all who heard were +sobbing and hiding their tears.</p> + +<p>When the performance was over, every one made fun of +the western undertaker, and he was so much put out that he +immediately removed his exhibits and retired from the +contest. The audience was amazed by the collapse of the +western undertaker and could not imagine where his rival +had procured so remarkable a singer.</p> + +<p>It happened that the Emperor had recently issued an +order commanding the governors of outside provinces to +confer with him at the capital at least once a year.</p> + +<p>At this time the young man’s father, who was governor +of Ch‘ang-chou, had recently arrived at the capital to make +his report. Hearing of the competition, he and some of +<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a>his colleagues discarded their official robes and insignia, and +slipped away to join the crowd. With them was an old +servant, who was the husband of the young man’s foster-nurse. +Recognizing his foster-son’s way of moving and +speaking, he was on the point of accosting him, but not +daring to do so, he stood weeping silently. The father +asked him why he was crying, and the servant replied, “Sir, +the young man who is singing reminds me of your lost +son.” The father answered: “My son became the prey of +robbers, because I gave him too much money. This cannot +be he.” So saying, he also began to weep and, leaving the +crowd, returned to his lodging.</p> + +<p>But the old servant went about among the members of the +troupe, asking who it was that had just sung with such +skill. They all told him it was the son of such a one; and +when he asked the young man’s own name, that too was unfamiliar, +for he was living under an <i>alias</i>. The old servant +was so much puzzled that he determined to put the matter +to the test for himself. But when the young man saw his +old friend walking towards him, he winced, turned away his +face, and tried to hide in the crowd. The old man followed +him and catching his sleeve, said: “Surely it is you!” +Then they embraced and wept. Presently they went back +together to his father’s lodging. But his father abused him, +saying: “Your conduct has disgraced the family. How +dare you show your face again?” So saying, he took him +out of the house and led him to the ground between the +Ch‘ü-chiang Pond and the Apricot Gardens. Here he +stripped him naked and thrashed him with his horse-whip, +till the young man succumbed to the pain and collapsed. +The father then left him and went away.</p> + +<p>But the young man’s singing-master had told some of his +<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a>friends to watch what happened to him. When they saw +him stretched inanimate on the ground, they came back and +told the other members of the troupe.</p> + +<p>The news occasioned universal lamentation, and two men +were despatched with a reed mat to cover up the body. +When they got there they found his heart still warm, and +when they had held him in an upright posture for some +time, his breathing recommenced. So they carried him +home between them and administered liquid food through a +reed-pipe. Next morning, he recovered consciousness; but +after several months he was still unable to move his hands +and feet. Moreover, the sores left by his thrashing festered +in so disgusting a manner that his friends found him too +troublesome, and one night deposited him in the middle of +the road. However, the passers-by, harrowed by his condition, +never failed to throw him scraps of food.</p> + +<p>So copious was his diet that in three months he recovered +sufficiently to hobble with a stick. Clad in a linen coat,—which +was knotted together in a hundred places, so that it +looked as tattered as a quail’s tail,—and carrying a broken +saucer in his hand, he now went about the idle quarters of +the town, earning his living as a professional beggar.</p> + +<p>Autumn had now turned to winter. He spent his nights +in public lavatories and his days haunting the markets and +booths.</p> + +<p>One day when it was snowing hard, hunger and cold had +driven him into the streets. His beggar’s cry was full of +woe and all who heard it were heart-rent. But the snow was +so heavy that hardly a house had its outer door open, and +the streets were empty.</p> + +<p>When he reached the eastern gate of An-i, about the +<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a>seventh or eighth turning north of the Hsün-li Wall, there +was a house with the double-doors half open.</p> + +<p>It was the house where Miss Li was then living, but +the young man did not know.</p> + +<p>He stood before the door, wailing loud and long.</p> + +<p>Hunger and cold had given such a piteous accent to his +cry that none could have listened unmoved.</p> + +<p>Miss Li heard it from her room and at once said to her +servant, “That is so-and-so. I know his voice.” She flew +to the door and was horrified to see her old lover standing +before her so emaciated by hunger and disfigured by sores +that he seemed scarcely human. “Can it be you?” she +said. But the young man was so overcome by bewilderment +and excitement that he could not speak, but only +moved his lips noiselessly.</p> + +<p>She threw her arms round his neck, then wrapped him in +her own embroidered jacket and led him to the parlour. +Here, with quavering voice, she reproached herself, saying, +“It is my doing that you have been brought to this pass.” +And with these words she swooned.</p> + +<p>Her mother came running up in great excitement, asking +who had arrived. Miss Li, recovering herself, said who it +was. The old woman cried out in rage: “Send him away! +What did you bring him in here for?”</p> + +<p>But Miss Li looked up at her defiantly and said: “Not so! +This is the son of a noble house. Once he rode in grand +coaches and wore golden trappings on his coat. But when +he came to our house, he soon lost all he had; and then we +plotted together and left him destitute. Our conduct has +indeed been inhuman! We have ruined his career and +robbed him even of his place in the category of human relationships. +For the love of father and son is implanted +<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a>by Heaven; yet we have hardened his father’s heart, so that +he beat him with a stick and left him on the ground.</p> + +<p>“Every one in the land knows that it is I who have reduced +him to his present plight. The Court is full of his +kinsmen. Some day one of them will come into power. +Then an inquiry will be set afoot, and disaster will overtake +us. And since we have flouted Heaven and defied the laws +of humanity, neither spirits nor divinities will be on our +side. Let us not wantonly incur a further retribution!</p> + +<p>“I have lived as your daughter for twenty years. Reckoning +what I have cost you in that time, I find it must be +close on a thousand pieces of gold. You are now aged +sixty, so that by the price of twenty more years’ food and +clothing, I can buy my freedom. I intend to live separately +with this young man. We will not go far away; I shall +see to it that we are near enough to pay our respects to you +both morning and evening.”</p> + +<p>The “mother” saw that she was not to be gainsaid and +fell in with the arrangement. When she had paid her ransom, +Miss Li had a hundred pieces of gold left over; and +with them she hired a vacant room, five doors away. Here +she gave the young man a bath, changed his clothes, fed him +with hot soup to relax his stomach, and later on fattened +him up with cheese and milk.</p> + +<p>In a few weeks she began to place before him all the +choicest delicacies of land and sea; and she clothed him +with cap, shoes and stockings of the finest quality. In a +short time he began gradually to put on flesh, and by the +end of the year, he had entirely recovered his former health.</p> + +<p>One day Miss Li said to him: “Now your limbs are stout +again and your will strong! Sometimes, when deeply pondering +in silent sorrow, I wonder to myself how much you +<a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a>remember of your old literary studies?” He thought and +answered: “Of ten parts I remember two or three.”</p> + +<p>Miss Li then ordered the carriage to be got ready and the +young man followed her on horseback. When they reached +the classical bookshop at the side-gate south of the Flag tower, +she made him choose all the books he wanted, till she +had laid out a hundred pieces of gold. Then she packed +them in the cart and drove home. She now made him dismiss +all other thoughts from his mind and apply himself +only to study. All the evening he toiled at his books, with +Miss Li at his side, and they did not retire till midnight. +If ever she found that he was too tired to work, she made +him lay down his classics and write a poem or ode.</p> + +<p>In two years he had thoroughly mastered his subjects and +was admired by all the scholars of the realm. He said to +Miss Li, “<i>Now</i>, surely, I am ready for the examiners!” but +she would not let him compete and made him revise all he +had learnt, to prepare for the “hundredth battle.” At the +end of the third year she said, “Now you may go.” He +went in for the examination and passed at the first attempt. +His reputation spread rapidly through the examination +rooms and even older men, when they saw his compositions, +were filled with admiration and respect, and sought +his friendship.</p> + +<p>But Miss Li would not let him make friends with them, +saying, “Wait a little longer! Nowadays when a bachelor +of arts has passed his examination, he thinks himself fit to +hold the most advantageous posts at Court and to win a +universal reputation. But your unfortunate conduct and +disreputable past put you at a disadvantage beside your +fellow-scholars. You must ‘grind, temper and sharpen’ +your attainments, that you may secure a second victory. +<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a>Then you will be able to match yourself against famous +scholars and contend with the illustrious.”</p> + +<p>The young man accordingly increased his efforts and enhanced +his value. That year it happened that the Emperor +had decreed a special examination for the selection of +candidates of unusual merit from all parts of the Empire. +The young man competed, and came out top in the “censorial +essay.” He was offered the post of Army Inspector +at Ch‘ēng-tu Fu. The officers who were to escort him were +all previous friends.</p> + +<p>When he was about to take up his post, Miss Li said to +him, “Now that you are restored to your proper station in +life, I will not be a burden to you. Let me go back and +look after the old lady till she dies. You must ally yourself +with some lady of noble lineage, who will be worthy +to carry the sacrificial dishes in your Ancestral Hall. Do +not injure your prospects by an unequal union. Good-bye, +for now I must leave you.”</p> + +<p>The young man burst into tears and threatened to kill +himself if she left him, but she obstinately refused to go +with him. He begged her passionately not to desert him, +and she at last consented to go with him across the river +as far as Chien-mēn.<a name="FNanchor_4_51" id="FNanchor_4_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_51" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> “There,” she said, “you must part +with me.” The young man consented and in a few weeks +they reached Chien-mēn. Before he had started out again, +a proclamation arrived announcing that the young man’s +father, who had been Governor of Ch‘ang-chou, had been +appointed Governor of Ch‘ēng-tu and Intendant of the +Chien-nan Circuit. Next morning the father arrived, and +the young man sent in his card and waited upon him at the +<a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a>posting-station. His father did not recognize him, but the +card bore the names of the young man’s father and grandfather, +with their ranks and titles. When he read these, he +was astounded, and bidding his son mount the steps he +caressed him and wept. After a while he said: “Now we +two are father and son once more,” and bade him tell his +story. When he heard of the young man’s adventures, he +was amazed. Presently he asked: “And where is Miss +Li?” He replied: “She came with me as far as here, but +now she is going back again.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot allow it,” the father said. Next day he ordered +a carriage for his son and sent him on to report +himself at Ch‘ēng-tu; but he detained Miss Li at Chien-mēn, +found her a suitable lodging and ordered a match-maker to +perform the initial ceremonies for uniting the two families +and to accomplish the six rites of welcome. The young +man came back from Ch‘ēng-tu and they were duly married. +In the years that followed their marriage, Miss Li +showed herself a devoted wife and competent housekeeper, +and was beloved by all her relations.</p> + +<p>Some years later both the young man’s parents died, and +in his mourning observances he showed unusual piety. As +a mark of divine favour, magic toadstools grew on the roof +of his mourning-hut,<a name="FNanchor_5_52" id="FNanchor_5_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_52" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> each stem bearing three plants. The +report of his virtue reached even the Emperor’s ears. Moreover +a number of white swallows nested in the beams of his +roof, an omen which so impressed the Emperor that he +raised his rank immediately.</p> + +<p>When the three years of mourning were over, he was +<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a>successively promoted to various distinguished posts and in +the course of ten years was Governor of several provinces. +Miss Li was given the fief of Chien-kuo, with the title “The +Lady of Chien-kuo.”</p> + +<p>He had four sons who all held high rank. Even the least +successful of them became Governor of T‘ai-yüan, and his +brothers all married into great families, so that his good +fortune both in public and private life was without parallel.</p> + +<p>How strange that we should find in the conduct of a +prostitute a degree of constancy rarely equalled even by the +heroines of history! Surely the story is one which cannot +but provoke a sigh!</p> + +<p>My great-uncle was Governor of Chin-chou; subsequently +he joined the Ministry of Finance and became Inspector of +Waterways, and finally Inspector of Roads. In all these +three offices he had Miss Li’s husband as his colleague, so +that her story was well known to him in every particular. +During the Chēng-yüan period<a name="FNanchor_6_53" id="FNanchor_6_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_53" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> I was sitting one day with +Li Kung-tso<a name="FNanchor_7_54" id="FNanchor_7_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_54" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> of Lung-hai; we fell to talking of wives who +had distinguished themselves by remarkable conduct. I +told him the story of Miss Li. He listened with rapt attention, +and when it was over, asked me to write it down for +him. So I took up my brush, wetted the hairs and made +this rough outline of the story.</p> + +<p>[<i>Dated</i>] <i>autumn, eighth month of the year Yi-hai</i>, (<span class="smcap">a.d.</span> +795), <i>written by Po-Hsing-chien of T‘ai-yüan.</i></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_48" id="Footnote_1_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_48"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 742-56.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_49" id="Footnote_2_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_49"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> In Kiang-su, near Ch‘ang-chou.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_50" id="Footnote_3_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_50"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> See <a name="typo_3" id="typo_3"></a>p. 58, “170 Chinese Poems,” Alfred A. Knopf, 1919.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_51" id="Footnote_4_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_51"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> The “Sword-gate”: commanding the pass which leads into +Szechuan from the north.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_52" id="Footnote_5_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_52"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> See “Book or Rites,” xxxii, 3. On returning from his father’s +burial a son must not enter the house; he should live in an “out-house,” +mourning for his father’s absence.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_53" id="Footnote_6_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_53"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 785-805.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_54" id="Footnote_7_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_54"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> A writer.</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a><a name="WANG_CHIEN" id="WANG_CHIEN"></a>WANG CHIEN</h2> + +<h5>[<i>c. <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 830</i>]</h5> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a><a name="HEARING_THAT_HIS_FRIEND_WAS_COMING_BACK_FROM_THE_WAR" id="HEARING_THAT_HIS_FRIEND_WAS_COMING_BACK_FROM_THE_WAR"></a>[66] HEARING THAT HIS FRIEND WAS COMING BACK FROM THE WAR</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In old days those who went to fight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In three years had one year’s leave.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But in <i>this</i> war the soldiers are never changed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They must go on fighting till they die on the battle-field.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I thought of you, so weak and indolent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hopelessly trying to learn to march and drill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That a young man should ever come home again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seemed about as likely as that the sky should fall.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since I got the news that you were coming back,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twice I have mounted to the high hall of your home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I found your brother mending your horse’s stall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I found your mother sewing your new clothes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am half afraid; perhaps it is not true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I never weary of watching for you on the road.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each day I go out at the City Gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a flask of wine, lest you should come thirsty.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh that I could shrink the surface of the World,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So that suddenly I might find you standing at my side.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a><a name="THE_SOUTH" id="THE_SOUTH"></a>[67] THE SOUTH</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In the southern land many birds sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of towns and cities half are unwalled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The country markets are thronged by wild tribes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mountain-villages bear river-names.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poisonous mists rise from the damp sands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange fires gleam through the night-rain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And none passes but the lonely fisher of pearls.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Year by year on his way to the South Sea.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a><a name="OU-YANG_HSIU" id="OU-YANG_HSIU"></a>OU-YANG HSIU</h2> + +<h5>[<i>b. 1007; d. 1072</i>]</h5> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a><a name="AUTUMN" id="AUTUMN"></a>[68] AUTUMN</h3> + + +<p>Master Ou-yang was reading his books<a name="FNanchor_1_55" id="FNanchor_1_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_55" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> at night when he +heard a strange sound coming from the north-west. He +paused and listened intently, saying to himself: “How +strange, how strange!” First there was a pattering and +rustling; but suddenly this broke into a great churning and +crashing, like the noise of waves that wake the traveller at +night, when wind and rain suddenly come; and where they +lash the ship, there is a jangling and clanging as of metal +against metal.</p> + +<p>Or again, like the sound of soldiers going to battle, who +march swiftly with their gags<a name="FNanchor_2_56" id="FNanchor_2_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_56" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> between their teeth, when +the captain’s voice cannot be heard, but only the tramp +of horses and men moving.</p> + +<p>I called to my boy, bidding him go out and see what +noise this could be. The boy said: “The moon and stars +are shining; the Milky Way glitters in the sky. Nowhere is +there any noise of men. The noise must be in the trees.”</p> + +<p>“I-hsi! alas!” I said, “this must be the sound of +Autumn. Oh, why has Autumn come? For as to Autumn’s +form, her colours are mournful and pale. Mists +scatter and clouds withdraw. Her aspect is clean and +bright. The sky is high and the sunlight clear as crystal. +Her breath is shivering and raw, pricking men’s skin and +bones; her thoughts are desolate, bringing emptiness and +silence to the rivers and hills. And hence it is that her +whisperings are sorrowful and cold, but her shouts are wild +and angry. Pleasant grasses grew soft and green, vying in +<a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a>rankness. Fair trees knit their shade and gave delight. +Autumn swept the grasses and their colour changed; she met +the trees, and their boughs were stripped. And because +Autumn’s being is compounded of sternness, therefore it +was that they withered and perished, fell and decayed. For +Autumn is an executioner,<a name="FNanchor_3_57" id="FNanchor_3_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_57" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and her hour is darkness. She +is a warrior, and her element is metal. Therefore she is +called ‘the doom-spirit of heaven and earth’;<a name="FNanchor_4_58" id="FNanchor_4_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_58" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> for her +thoughts are bent on stern destruction.</p> + +<p>“In Spring, growth; in Autumn, fruit: that is Heaven’s +plan. Therefore in music the note <i>shang</i> is the symbol of +the West and <i>I-tsē</i> is the pitch-pipe of the seventh month. +For <i>shang</i> means ‘<i>to strike</i>’; when things grow old they are +stricken by grief. And <i>I</i> means ‘<i>to slay</i>’; things that have +passed their prime must needs be slain. Plants and trees +have no feelings; when their time comes they are blown +down. But man moves and lives and is of creatures most +divine. A hundred griefs assail his heart, ten thousand +tasks wear out his limbs, and each inward stirring shakes the +atoms of his soul. And all the more, when he thinks of +things that his strength cannot achieve or grieves at things +his mind cannot understand, is it strange that cheeks that +were steeped in red should grow withered as an old stick, +and hair that was black as ebony should turn as spangled as +a starry sky? How should ought else but what is fashioned +of brass or stone strive to outlast the splendour of a tree? +Who but man himself is the slayer of his youth? Why was +I angered at Autumn’s voice?”</p> + +<p>The boy made no answer: he was sleeping with lowered +<a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a>head. I could hear nothing but the insects chirping shrilly +on every side as though they sought to join in my lamentation.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_55" id="Footnote_1_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_55"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The poem was written in 1052, when Ou-yang was finishing his +“New History of the T‘ang Dynasty.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_56" id="Footnote_2_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_56"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Pieces of wood put in their mouths to prevent their talking.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_57" id="Footnote_3_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_57"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Executions took place in autumn. See <i>Chou Li</i>, Book xxxiv +(Biot’s translation, tom. ii, p. 286).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_58" id="Footnote_4_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_58"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> “Book of Rites,” I. 656 (Couvreur’s edition).</p></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a><a name="APPENDIX" id="APPENDIX"></a>APPENDIX</h2> + + +<p>An essay on Po Chü-i, whose poems occupy most of this +book, will be found in “170 Chinese Poems.” The fullest +account of Li Po’s life (with translations) is given +in a paper read by me to the China Society, and published +in the <i>Asiatic Review</i>, July, 1919. Notices of Ch‘ü Yüan, +Wang Wei, Yüan Chēn, Wang Chien and Ou-yang Hsiu will +be found in Giles’s “Biographical Dictionary.” To Wang +Chieh Po Chü-i addressed several poems.</p> + +<p>Of the 68 pieces in this book, 55 are now translated for +the first time. Of the eight poems by Li Po, all but Number +6 have been translated before, some of them by several +hands.</p> + +<p>Among the poems by Po Chü-i, three (Nos. 11, 12, and +44) have been translated by Woitsch<a name="FNanchor_1_59" id="FNanchor_1_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_59" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> and one, (No. 43), +very incorrectly, by Pfizmaier. Another (No. 21) was +translated into rhymed verse by Prof. Giles in “Adversaria +Sinica” (1914), p. 323. Ou-yang Hsiu’s “Autumn” was +translated by Giles (with great freedom in many places) +in his “Chinese Literature,” p. 215.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_59" id="Footnote_1_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_59"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Aus den Gedichten Po Chü-i’s. Peking, 1908.</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: smaller;">Transcriber’s Note: The following apparent misprints have been +corrected for this electronic edition:</p> +<table cellpadding="2" border="1" frame="box" rules="none" style="font-size: smaller;" summary="List of misprints and their corrections"> + +<tr><td style="text-align: right;"><a href="#typo_1">Patient carrier of towel and comb,[2]</a> +</td><td> <i>as printed</i> </td><td>cited footnote 1, which is inapplicable and not on page</td></tr> + +<tr><td style="text-align: right;"><a href="#typo_2">“Because you are my cousin,<br /> +“Then came the sharing of pillow and mat,<br /> +“Now, having ‘seen my Prince,’<br /></a> +</td><td> <i>as printed</i> </td><td>all were missing opening “</td></tr> + +<tr><td style="text-align: right;"><a href="#typo_3">Footnote 3: See p. 58, “170 Chinese Poems,” Alfred A. Knopf, 1919.</a> +</td><td> <i>as printed</i> </td><td>See p, 58</td></tr> + +<tr><td style="text-align: right;"><a href="#typo_4">with bedclothes under her arm</a> +</td><td> <i>as printed</i> </td><td>bed-clothes</td></tr> + +</table> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's More Translations from the Chinese, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE *** + +***** This file should be named 16500-h.htm or 16500-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/0/16500/ + +Produced by David Starner, Jonathan Niehof and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: More Translations from the Chinese + +Author: Various + +Translator: Arthur Waley + +Release Date: August 10, 2005 [EBook #16500] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Jonathan Niehof and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: Accented Chinese words have been represented +with the appropriate Pinyin tone number. The macron is marked as +tone 1. Neutral (tone 5) u with umlaut is represented as "uu". +U-with-breve is rendered without the breve, as it carries no information. +Japanese long vowels (macrons in the original) are suffixed with "u". +UTF-8 and HTML versions of this text, with the original accents, are also +available.] + + +_Translations by Arthur Waley_ +I A HUNDRED AND SEVENTY CHINESE POEMS +II MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE + + + MORE TRANSLATIONS + FROM THE CHINESE + BY + ARTHUR WALEY + + NEW YORK + ALFRED A KNOPF + MCMXIX + + +COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY +ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. + +PRINTED BY THE VAIL-BALLOU CO., BINGHAMTON, N.Y. +ON WARREN'S INDIA TINT OLD STYLE PAPER +BOUND BY THE PLIMPTON PRESS, NORWOOD, MASS + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE +INTRODUCTION 5 + +CH`UU YUUAN:-- + The Great Summons 13 + +WANG WEI:-- + Prose Letter 23 + +LI PO:-- + Drinking Alone by Moonlight 27 + In the Mountains on a Summer Day 29 + Waking from Drunkenness on a Spring Day 30 + Self-Abandonment 31 + To Tan Ch`iu 32 + Clearing at Dawn 33 + +PO CHUU-I:-- + Life of Po Chuu-i 35 + After Passing the Examination 37 + Escorting Candidates to the Examination Hall 38 + In Early Summer Lodging in a Temple to Enjoy + the Moonlight 39 + Sick Leave 40 + Watching the Reapers 41 + Going Alone to Spend a Night at the Hsien-Yu + Temple 42 + Planting Bamboos 43 + To Li Chien 44 + At the End of Spring 45 + The Poem on the Wall 46 + Chu Ch`en1 Village 47 + Fishing in the Wei River 50 + Lazy Man's Song 51 + Illness and Idleness 52 + Winter Night 53 + The Chrysanthemums in the Eastern Garden 54 + Poems in Depression, at Wei Village 55 + To His Brother Hsing-Chien, Who was in Tung-Ch`uan 56 + Starting Early from the Ch`u-Ch`eng1 Inn 57 + Rain 58 + The Beginning of Summer 59 + Visiting the Hsi-Lin Temple 60 + Prose Letter to Yuuan Chen1 61 + Hearing the Early Oriole 65 + Dreaming that I Went with Lu and Yu to Visit + Yuuan Chen1 66 + The Fifteenth Volume 67 + Invitation to Hsiao Chuu-Shih 68 + To Li Chien 69 + The Spring River 70 + After Collecting the Autumn Taxes 71 + Lodging with the Old Man of the Stream 72 + To His Brother Hsing-Chien 73 + The Pine-Trees in the Courtyard 74 + Sleeping on Horseback 76 + Parting from the Winter Stove 77 + Good-Bye to the People of Hangchow 78 + Written when Governor of Soochow 79 + Getting Up Early on a Spring Morning 80 + Losing a Slave-Girl 81 + The Grand Houses at Lo-Yang 82 + The Cranes 83 + On His Baldness 84 + Thinking of the Past 85 + A Mad Poem Addressed to My Nephews and Nieces 87 + Old Age 88 + To a Talkative Guest 89 + To Liu Yuu-Hsi 90 + My Servant Wakes Me 91 + Since I Lay Ill 92 + Song of Past Feelings 93 + Illness 96 + Resignation 97 + +YUUAN CHEN1:-- + The Story of Ts`ui Ying-Ying 101 + The Pitcher 114 + +PO HSING-CHIEN:-- + The Story of Miss Li 117 + +WANG CHIEN:-- + Hearing that His Friend was Coming Back from + the War 137 + The South 138 + +OU-YANG HSIU:-- + Autumn 141 + +APPENDIX 144 + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +This book is not intended to be representative of Chinese literature as +a whole. I have chosen and arranged chronologically various pieces which +interested me and which it seemed possible to translate adequately. + +An account of the history and technique of Chinese poetry will be found +in the introduction to my last book.[1] Learned reviewers must not +suppose that I have failed to appreciate the poets whom I do not +translate. Nor can they complain that the more famous of these poets are +inaccessible to European readers; about a hundred of Li Po's poems have +been translated, and thirty or forty of Tu Fu's. I have, as before, +given half my space to Po Chuu-i, of whose poems I had selected for +translation a much larger number than I have succeeded in rendering. I +will give literal versions of two rejected ones: + +[1] "170 Chinese Poems," New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + + +EVENING + +[_A.D. 835_] + + _Water's colour at-dusk still white; + Sunsets glow in-the-dark gradually nil. + Windy lotus shakes [like] broken fan; + Wave-moon stirs [like] string [of] jewels. + Crickets chirping answer one another; + Mandarin-ducks sleep, not alone. + Little servant repeatedly announces night; + Returning steps still hesitate._ + + +IN EARLY SPRING ALONE CLIMBING THE T`IEN-KUNG PAGODA + +[_A.D. 389_] + + _T`ien-kung sun warm, pagoda door open; + Alone climbing, greet Spring, drink one cup. + Without limit excursion-people afar-off wonder at me; + What cause most old most first arrived!_ + +While many of the pieces in "170 Chinese Poems" aimed at literary form +in English, others did no more than give the sense of the Chinese in +almost as crude a way as the two examples above. It was probably because +of this inconsistency that no reviewer treated the book as an experiment +in English unrhymed verse, though this was the aspect of it which most +interested the writer. + +In the present work I have aimed more consistently at poetic form, but +have included on account of their biographical interest two or three +rather unsuccessful versions of late poems by Po Chuu-i. + +For leave to reprint I am indebted to the editors of the _English +Review_, _Nation_, _New Statesman_, _Bulletin of School of Oriental +Studies_, and _Reconstruction_. + + + + +CH`U YUUAN + +[_Fourth Century B.C._] + + + + +[1] THE GREAT SUMMONS + + +_When Ch`uu Yuuan had been exiled from the Court for nine years, he became +so despondent that he feared his soul would part from his body and he +would die. It was then that he made the poem called "The Great Summons," +calling upon his soul not to leave him._ + + Green Spring receiveth + The vacant earth; + The white sun shineth; + Spring wind provoketh + To burst and burgeon + Each sprout and flower. + In those dark caves where Winter lurketh + Hide not, my Soul! + O Soul come back again! O, do not stray! + + O Soul come back again and go not east or west, or north or south! + For to the East a mighty water drowneth Earth's other shore; + Tossed on its waves and heaving with its tides + The hornless Dragon of the Ocean rideth: + Clouds gather low and fogs enfold the sea + And gleaming ice drifts past. + O Soul go not to the East, + To the silent Valley of Sunrise! + + O Soul go not to the South + Where mile on mile the earth is burnt away + And poisonous serpents slither through the flames; + Where on precipitous paths or in deep woods + Tigers and leopards prowl, + And water-scorpions wait; + Where the king-python rears his giant head. + O Soul, go not to the South + Where the three-footed tortoise spits disease! + + O Soul go not to the West + Where level wastes of sand stretch on and on; + And demons rage, swine-headed, hairy-skinned, + With bulging eyes; + Who in wild laughter gnash projecting fangs. + O Soul go not to the West + Where many perils wait! + + O Soul go not to the North, + To the Lame Dragon's frozen peaks; + Where trees and grasses dare not grow; + Where a river runs too wide to cross + And too deep to plumb, + And the sky is white with snow + And the cold cuts and kills. + O Soul seek not to fill + The treacherous voids of the north! + + O Soul come back to idleness and peace. + In quietude enjoy + The lands of Ching and Ch`u. + There work your will and follow your desire + Till sorrow is forgot, + And carelessness shall bring you length of days. + O Soul come back to joys beyond all telling! + + Where thirty cubits high at harvest-time + The corn is stacked; + Where pies are cooked of millet and bearded-maize. + Guests watch the steaming bowls + And sniff the pungency of peppered herbs. + The cunning cook adds slices of bird-flesh, + Pigeon and yellow-heron and black-crane. + They taste the badger-stew. + O Soul come back to feed on foods you love! + + Next are brought + Fresh turtle, and sweet chicken cooked in cheese + Pressed by the men of Ch`u. + And pickled sucking-pig + And flesh of whelps floating in liver-sauce + With salad of minced radishes in brine; + All served with that hot spice of southernwood + The land of Wu supplies. + O Soul come back to choose the meats you love! + + Roasted daw, steamed widgeon and grilled quail-- + On every fowl they fare. + Boiled perch and sparrow broth,--in each preserved + The separate flavour that is most its own. + O Soul come back to where such dainties wait! + + The four strong liquors are warming at the fire + So that they grate not on the drinker's throat. + How fragrant rise their fumes, how cool their taste! + Such drink is not for louts or serving-men! + And wise distillers from the land of Wu + Blend unfermented spirit with white yeast + And brew the _li_ of Ch`u. + O Soul come back and let your yearnings cease! + + Reed-organs from the lands of T`ai and Ch`in + And Wei and Cheng1 + Gladden the feasters, and old songs are sung: + The "Rider's Song" that once + Fu-hsi, the ancient monarch, made; + And the harp-songs of Ch`u. + Then after prelude from the flutes of Chao + The ballad-singer's voice rises alone. + O Soul come back to the hollow mulberry-tree![1] + + Eight and eight the dancers sway, + Weaving their steps to the poet's voice + Who speaks his odes and rhapsodies; + They tap their bells and beat their chimes + Rigidly, lest harp and flute + Should mar the measure. + Then rival singers of the Four Domains + Compete in melody, till not a tune + Is left unsung that human voice could sing. + O Soul come back and listen to their songs! + + Then women enter whose red lips and dazzling teeth + Seduce the eye; + But meek and virtuous, trained in every art; + Fit sharers of play-time, + So soft their flesh and delicate their bones. + O Soul come back and let them ease your woe! + + Then enter other ladies with laughing lips + And sidelong glances under moth-eye brows; + Whose cheeks are fresh and red; + Ladies both great of heart and long of limb, + Whose beauty by sobriety is matched. + Well-padded cheeks and ears with curving rim, + High-arching eyebrows, as with compass drawn, + Great hearts and loving gestures--all are there; + Small waists and necks as slender as the clasp + Of courtiers' brooches. + O Soul come back to those whose tenderness + Drives angry thoughts away! + + Last enter those + Whose every action is contrived to please; + Black-painted eyebrows and white-powdered cheeks. + They reek with scent; with their long sleeves they brush + The faces of the feasters whom they pass, + Or pluck the coats of those who will not stay. + O Soul come back to pleasures of the night! + + A summer-house with spacious rooms + And a high hall with beams stained red; + A little closet in the southern wing + Reached by a private stair. + And round the house a covered way should run + Where horses might be trained. + And sometimes riding, sometimes going afoot + You shall explore, O Soul, the parks of spring; + Your jewelled axles gleaming in the sun + And yoke inlaid with gold; + Or amid orchises and sandal-trees + Shall walk in the dark woods. + O Soul come back and live for these delights! + + Peacocks shall fill your gardens; you shall rear + The roc and phoenix, and red jungle-fowl, + Whose cry at dawn assembles river storks + To join the play of cranes and ibises; + Where the wild-swan all day + Pursues the glint of idle king-fishers. + O Soul come back to watch the birds in flight! + + He who has found such manifold delights + Shall feel his cheeks aglow + And the blood-spirit dancing through his limbs. + Stay with me, Soul, and share + The span of days that happiness will bring; + See sons and grandsons serving at the Court + Ennobled and enriched. + O Soul come back and bring prosperity + To house and stock! + + The roads that lead to Ch`u + Shall teem with travellers as thick as clouds, + A thousand miles away. + For the Five Orders of Nobility + Shall summon sages to assist the King + And with godlike discrimination choose + The wise in council; by their aid to probe + The hidden discontents of humble men + And help the lonely poor. + O Soul come back and end what we began! + + Fields, villages and lanes + Shall throng with happy men; + Good rule protect the people and make known + The King's benevolence to all the land; + Stern discipline prepare + Their natures for the soft caress of Art. + O Soul come back to where the good are praised! + + Like the sun shining over the four seas + Shall be the reputation of our King; + His deeds, matched only in Heaven, shall repair + The wrongs endured by every tribe of men,-- + Northward to Yu and southward to Annam + To the Sheep's Gut Mountain and the Eastern Seas. + O Soul come back to where the wise are sought! + + Behold the glorious virtues of our King + Triumphant, terrible; + Behold with solemn faces in the Hall + The Three Grand Ministers walk up and down,-- + None chosen for the post save landed-lords + Or, in default, Knights of the Nine Degrees. + At the first ray of dawn already is hung + The shooting-target, where with bow in hand + And arrows under arm, + Each archer does obeisance to each, + Willing to yield his rights of precedence. + O Soul come back to where men honour still + The name of the Three Kings.[2] + +[1] The harp. + +[2] Yuu, T`ang and Wen1, the three just rulers of antiquity. + + + + +WANG WEI + +[_A.D. 699-759_] + + + + +[2] PROSE LETTER + +_To the Bachelor-of-Arts P`ei Ti_ + + +Of late during the sacrificial month, the weather has been calm and +clear, and I might easily have crossed the mountain. But I knew that you +were conning the classics and did not dare disturb you. So I roamed +about the mountain-side, rested at the Kan-p`ei Temple, dined with the +mountain priests, and, after dinner, came home again. Going northwards, +I crossed the Yuuan-pa, over whose waters the unclouded moon shone with +dazzling rim. When night was far advanced, I mounted Hua-tzuu's Hill and +saw the moonlight tossed up and thrown down by the jostling waves of +Wang River. On the wintry mountain distant lights twinkled and vanished; +in some deep lane beyond the forest a dog barked at the cold, with a cry +as fierce as a wolf's. The sound of villagers grinding their corn at +night filled the gaps between the slow chiming of a distant bell. + +Now I am sitting alone. I listen, but cannot hear my grooms and servants +move or speak. I think much of old days: how hand in hand, composing +poems as we went, we walked down twisting paths to the banks of clear +streams. + +We must wait for Spring to come: till the grasses sprout and the trees +bloom. Then wandering together in the spring hills we shall see the +trout leap lightly from the stream, the white gulls stretch their wings, +the dew fall on the green moss. And in the morning we shall hear the cry +of curlews in the barley-fields. + +It is not long to wait. Shall you be with me then? Did I not know the +natural subtlety of your intelligence, I would not dare address to you +so remote an invitation. You will understand that a deep feeling +dictates this course. + +Written without disrespect by Wang Wei, a dweller in the mountains. + + + + +LI PO + +[_A.D. 701-762_] + + + + +[3-5] DRINKING ALONE BY MOONLIGHT + +[_Three Poems_] + + +I + + A cup of wine, under the flowering trees; + I drink alone, for no friend is near. + Raising my cup I beckon the bright moon, + For he, with my shadow, will make three men. + The moon, alas, is no drinker of wine; + Listless, my shadow creeps about at my side. + Yet with the moon as friend and the shadow as slave + I must make merry before the Spring is spent. + To the songs I sing the moon flickers her beams; + In the dance I weave my shadow tangles and breaks. + While we were sober, three shared the fun; + Now we are drunk, each goes his way. + May we long share our odd, inanimate feast, + And meet at last on the Cloudy River of the sky.[1] + + +II + + In the third month the town of Hsien-yang + Is thick-spread with a carpet of fallen flowers. + Who in Spring can bear to grieve alone? + Who, sober, look on sights like these? + Riches and Poverty, long or short life, + By the Maker of Things are portioned and disposed; + But a cup of wine levels life and death + And a thousand things obstinately hard to prove. + When I am drunk, I lose Heaven and Earth. + Motionless--I cleave to my lonely bed. + At last I forget that I exist at all, + And at _that_ moment my joy is great indeed. + + +III + + If High Heaven had no love for wine, + There would not be a Wine Star in the sky. + If Earth herself had no love for wine, + There would not be a city called Wine Springs.[2] + Since Heaven and Earth both love wine, + I can love wine, without shame before God. + Clear wine was once called a Saint;[3] + Thick wine was once called "a Sage."[3] + + Of Saint and Sage I have long quaffed deep, + What need for me to study spirits and _hsien_?[4] + At the third cup I penetrate the Great Way; + A full gallon--Nature and I are one ... + But the things I feel when wine possesses my soul + I will never tell to those who are not drunk. + +[1] The Milky Way. + +[2] Ch`iu-ch`uuan, in Kansuh. + +[3] "History of Wei Dynasty" (Life of Hsuu Mo): "A drunken visitor said, +'Clear wine I account a Saint: thick wine only a Sage.'" + +[4] The lore of Rishi, Immortals. + + + + +[6] IN THE MOUNTAINS ON A SUMMER DAY + + + Gently I stir a white feather fan, + With open shirt sitting in a green wood. + I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone; + A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head. + + + + +[7] WAKING FROM DRUNKENNESS ON A SPRING DAY + + + "Life in the World is but a big dream; + I will not spoil it by any labour or care." + So saying, I was drunk all the day, + Lying helpless at the porch in front of my door. + When I woke up, I blinked at the garden-lawn; + A lonely bird was singing amid the flowers. + I asked myself, had the day been wet or fine? + The Spring wind was telling the mango-bird. + Moved by its song I soon began to sigh, + And as wine was there I filled my own cup. + Wildly singing I waited for the moon to rise; + When my song was over, all my senses had gone. + + + + +[8] SELF-ABANDONMENT + + + I sat drinking and did not notice the dusk, + Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress. + Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream; + The birds were gone, and men also few. + + + + +[9] TO TAN CH`IU + + + My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range, + Dearly loving the beauty of valleys and hills. + At green Spring he lies in the empty woods, + And is still asleep when the sun shines on high. + A pine-tree wind dusts his sleeves and coat; + A pebbly stream cleans his heart and ears. + I envy you, who far from strife and talk + Are high-propped on a pillow of blue cloud. + + + + +[10] CLEARING AT DAWN + + + The fields are chill; the sparse rain has stopped; + The colours of Spring teem on every side. + With leaping fish the blue pond is full; + With singing thrushes the green boughs droop. + The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks; + The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist. + By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud + Blown by the wind slowly scatters away. + + + + +PO CHU-I + +LIFE OF PO CHU-I + + +772 Born on 20th of 1st month. +800 Passes his examinations. +806 Receives a minor post at Chou-chih, near the capital. +807 Made Scholar of the Han Lin Academy. +811 Retires to Wei River, being in mourning for his mother. +814 Returns to Court. +815 Banished to Hsuun-yang. +818 Removed to Chung-chou. +820 Reprieved and returns to Court. +822 Governor of Hangchow. +825 Governor of Soochow. +826 Retires owing to illness. +827 Returns to Ch`ang-an. +829 Settles permanently at Lo-yang. +831 Governor of Ho-nan, the province of which Lo-yang was capital. +833 Retires owing to illness. +839 Has paralytic stroke in tenth month. +846 Dies in the eighth month. + + + + +[11] AFTER PASSING THE EXAMINATION + +[_A.D. 800_] + + + For ten years I never left my books; + I went up ... and won unmerited praise. + My high place I do not much prize; + The joy of my parents will first make me proud. + Fellow students, six or seven men, + See me off as I leave the City gate. + My covered couch is ready to drive away; + Flutes and strings blend their parting tune. + Hopes achieved dull the pains of parting; + Fumes of wine shorten the long road.... + Shod with wings is the horse of him who rides + On a Spring day the road that leads to home. + + + + +[12] ESCORTING CANDIDATES TO THE EXAMINATION HALL + +[_A.D. 805_] + + + At dawn I rode to escort the Doctors of Art; + In the eastern quarter the sky was still grey. + I said to myself, "You have started far too soon," + But horses and coaches already thronged the road. + High and low the riders' torches bobbed; + Muffled or loud, the watchman's drum beat. + Riders, when I see you prick + To your early levee, pity fills my heart. + When the sun rises and the hot dust flies + And the creatures of earth resume their great strife, + You, with your striving, what shall you each seek? + Profit and fame, for that is all your care. + But I, you courtiers, rise from my bed at noon + And live idly in the city of Ch`ang-an. + Spring is deep and my term of office spent; + Day by day my thoughts go back to the hills. + + + + +[13] IN EARLY SUMMER LODGING IN A TEMPLE TO ENJOY THE MOONLIGHT + +[_A.D. 805_] + + + In early summer, with two or three more + That were seeking fame in the city of Ch`ang-an, + Whose low employ gave them less business + Than ever they had since first they left their homes,-- + With these I wandered deep into the shrine of Tao, + For the joy we sought was promised in this place. + When we reached the gate, we sent our coaches back; + We entered the yard with only cap and stick. + Still and clear, the first weeks of May, + When trees are green and bushes soft and wet; + When the wind has stolen the shadows of new leaves + And birds linger on the last boughs that bloom. + Towards evening when the sky grew clearer yet + And the South-east was still clothed in red, + To the western cloister we carried our jar of wine; + While we waited for the moon, our cups moved slow. + Soon, how soon her golden ghost was born, + Swiftly, as though she had waited for us to come. + The beams of her light shone in every place, + On towers and halls dancing to and fro. + Till day broke we sat in her clear light + Laughing and singing, and yet never grew tired. + In Ch`ang-an, the place of profit and fame, + Such moods as this, how many men know? + + + + +[14] SICK LEAVE + +[_While Secretary to the Deputy-Assistant-Magistrate of Chou-chih, near +Ch`ang-an, in A.D. 806_] + + + Propped on pillows, not attending to business; + For two days I've lain behind locked doors. + I begin to think that those who hold office + Get no rest, except by falling ill! + For restful thoughts one does not need space; + The room where I lie is ten foot square. + By the western eaves, above the bamboo-twigs, + From my couch I see the White Mountain rise. + But the clouds that hover on its far-distant peak + Bring shame to a face that is buried in the World's dust. + + + + +[15] WATCHING THE REAPERS + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + Tillers of the soil have few idle months; + In the fifth month their toil is double-fold. + A south-wind visits the fields at night: + Suddenly the hill is covered with yellow corn. + Wives and daughters shoulder baskets of rice; + Youths and boys carry the flasks of wine. + Following after they bring a wage of meat, + To the strong reapers toiling on the southern hill, + Whose feet are burned by the hot earth they tread, + Whose backs are scorched by flames of the shining sky. + Tired they toil, caring nothing for the heat, + Grudging the shortness of the long summer day. + A poor woman follows at the reapers' side + With an infant child carried close at her breast. + With her right hand she gleans the fallen grain; + On her left arm a broken basket hangs. + And _I_ to-day ... by virtue of what right + Have I never once tended field or tree? + My government-pay is three hundred tons; + At the year's end I have still grain in hand. + Thinking of this, secretly I grew ashamed; + And all day the thought lingered in my head. + + + + +[16] GOING ALONE TO SPEND A NIGHT AT THE HSIEN-YU TEMPLE + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + The crane from the shore standing at the top of the steps; + The moon on the pool seen at the open door; + Where these are, I made my lodging-place + And for two nights could not turn away. + I am glad I chanced on a place so lonely and still + With no companion to drag me early home. + Now that I have tasted the joy of being alone + I will never again come with a friend at my side. + + + + +[17] PLANTING BAMBOOS + +[_A.D. 806_] + + + Unrewarded, my will to serve the State; + At my closed door autumn grasses grow. + What could I do to ease a rustic heart? + I planted bamboos, more than a hundred shoots. + When I see their beauty, as they grow by the stream-side, + I feel again as though I lived in the hills, + And many a time on public holidays + Round their railing I walk till night comes. + Do not say that their roots are still weak, + Do not say that their shade is still small; + Already I feel that both in garden and house + Day by day a fresher air moves. + But most I love, lying near the window-side, + To hear in their branches the sound of the autumn-wind. + + + + +[18] TO LI CHIEN + +[_Part of a Poem_] + +[_A.D. 807_] + + + Worldly matters again draw my steps; + Worldly things again seduce my heart. + Whenever for long I part from Li Chien + Gradually my thoughts grow narrow and covetous. + I remember how once I used to visit you; + I stopped my horse and tapped at the garden-gate. + Often when I came you were still lying in bed; + Your little children were sent to let me in. + And you, laughing, ran to the front-door + With coat-tails flying and cap all awry. + On the swept terrace, green patterns of moss; + On the dusted bench, clean shadows of leaves. + To gaze at the hills we sat in the eastern lodge; + To wait for the moon we walked to the southern moor. + At your quiet gate only birds spoke; + In your distant street few drums were heard. + Opposite each other all day we talked, + And never once spoke of profit or fame. + Since we parted hands, how long has passed? + Thrice and again the full moon has shone. + For when we parted the last flowers were falling, + And to-day I hear new cicadas sing. + The scented year suddenly draws to its close, + Yet the sorrow of parting is still unsubdued. + + + + +[19] AT THE END OF SPRING + +_To Yuuan Chen1._[1] [_A.D. 810_] + + + The flower of the pear-tree gathers and turns to fruit; + The swallows' eggs have hatched into young birds. + When the Seasons' changes thus confront the mind + What comfort can the Doctrine of Tao give? + It will teach me to watch the days and months fly + Without grieving that Youth slips away; + If the Fleeting World is but a long dream, + It does not matter whether one is young or old. + But ever since the day that my friend left my side + And has lived an exile in the City of Chiang-ling, + There is one wish I cannot quite destroy: + That from time to time we may chance to meet again. + +[1] Po Chuu-i's great friend. See Nos. 63 and 64. + + + + +[20] THE POEM ON THE WALL + +[_A.D. 810_] + +[_Yuuan Chen1 wrote that on his way to exile he had discovered a poem +inscribed by Po Chuu-i, on the wall of the Lo-k`ou Inn._] + + + My clumsy poem on the inn-wall none cared to see. + With bird-droppings and moss's growth the letters were blotched away. + There came a guest with heart so full, that though a page to the + Throne, + He did not grudge with his broidered coat to wipe off the dust, and + read. + + + + +[21] CHU CH`EN1 VILLAGE + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + In Hsuu-chou, in the District of Ku-feng1 + There lies a village whose name is Chu-ch`en1-- + A hundred miles away from the county-town, + Amid fields of hemp and green of mulberry-trees. + Click, click goes the sound of the spinning-wheel; + Mules and oxen pack the village-streets. + The girls go drawing the water from the brook; + The men go gathering fire-wood on the hill. + So far from the town Government affairs are few; + So deep in the hills, man's ways are simple. + Though they have wealth, they do not traffic with it; + Though they reach the age, they do not enter the Army. + Each family keeps to its village trade; + Grey-headed, they have never left the gates. + + Alive, they are the people of Ch`en1 Village; + Dead, they become the dust of Ch`en1 Village. + Out in the fields old men and young + Gaze gladly, each in the other's face. + In the whole village there are only two clans; + Age after age Chus have married Ch`ens1. + Near or distant, they have kinsmen in every house; + Young or old, they have friends wherever they go. + On white wine and roasted fowl they fare + At joyful meetings more than "once a week." + While they are alive, they have no distant partings; + To choose a wife they go to a neighbour's house. + When they are dead,--no distant burial; + Round the village graves lie thick. + They are not troubled either about life or death; + They have no anguish either of body or soul. + And so it happens that they live to a ripe age + And great-great-grandsons are often seen. + + _I_ was born in the Realms of Etiquette; + In early years, unprotected and poor. + Alone, I learnt to distinguish between Evil and Good; + Untutored, I toiled at bitter tasks. + The World's Law honours Learning and Fame; + Scholars prize marriages and Caps. + With these fetters I gyved my own hands; + Truly I became a much-deceived man. + At ten years old I learnt to read books; + At fifteen, I knew how to write prose. + At twenty I was made a Bachelor of Arts; + At thirty I became a Censor at the Court. + Above, the duty I owe to Prince and parents; + Below, the ties that bind me to wife and child. + The support of my family, the service of my country-- + For these tasks my nature is not apt. + I reckon the time that I first left my home; + From then till now,--fifteen Springs! + My lonely boat has thrice sailed to Ch`u; + Four times through Ch`in my lean horse has passed. + I have walked in the morning with hunger in my face; + I have lain at night with a soul that could not rest. + East and West I have wandered without pause, + Hither and thither like a cloud astray in the sky. + In the civil-war my old home was destroyed; + Of my flesh and blood many are scattered and lost. + North of the River, and South of the River-- + In both lands are the friends of all my life; + Life-friends whom I never see at all,-- + Whose deaths I hear of only after the lapse of years. + Sad at morning, I lie on my bed till dusk; + Weeping at night, I sit and wait for dawn. + The fire of sorrow has burnt my heart's core; + The frost of trouble has seized my hair's roots. + In such anguish has my whole life passed; + Long I have envied the people of Ch`en1 Village. + + + + +[22] FISHING IN THE WEI RIVER + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + In waters still as a burnished mirror's face, + In the depths of Wei, carp and grayling swim. + Idly I come with my bamboo fishing-rod + And hang my hook by the banks of Wei stream. + A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear + Softly shaking my ten feet of line. + Though my body sits waiting for fish to come, + My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness.[1] + Long ago a white-headed man[2] + Also fished at the same river's side; + A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish, + At seventy years, he caught Wen1 Wang.[2] + But _I_, when I come to cast my hook in the stream, + Have no thought either of fish or men. + Lacking the skill to capture either prey, + I can only bask in the autumn water's light. + When I tire of this, my fishing also stops; + I go to my home and drink my cup of wine. + +[1] See "Chuang Tzu," chap. i, end. + +[2] The Sage T`ai-kung sat still till he was seventy, apparently +fishing, but really waiting for a Prince who would employ him. At last +Wen1 Wang, Prince of Chou, happened to come that way and at once made +him his counsellor. + + + + +[23] LAZY MAN'S SONG + +[_A.D. 811_] + + + I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it; + I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it. + My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it. + My clothes are torn; I am too lazy to darn them. + I have got wine, but am too lazy to drink; + So it's just the same as if my cellar were empty. + I have got a harp, but am too lazy to play; + So it's just the same as if it had no strings. + My wife tells me there is no more bread in the house; + I want to bake, but am too lazy to grind. + My friends and relatives write me long letters; + I should like to read them, but they're such a bother to open. + I have always been told that Chi Shu-yeh[1] + Passed his whole life in absolute idleness. + But he played the harp and sometimes transmuted metals, + So even _he_ was not so lazy as I. + +[1] Also known as Chi K`ang. A famous Quietist. + + + + +[24] ILLNESS AND IDLENESS + +[_Circa A.D. 812_] + + + Illness and idleness give me much leisure. + What do I do with my leisure, when it comes? + I cannot bring myself to discard inkstone and brush; + Now and then I make a new poem. + When the poem is made, it is slight and flavourless, + A thing of derision to almost every one. + Superior people will be pained at the flatness of the metre; + Common people will hate the plainness of the words. + I sing it to myself, then stop and think about it ... + + * * * * * + + The Prefects of Soochow and P`eng1-tse1[1] + Would perhaps have praised it, but they died long ago. + Who else would care to hear it? + No one to-day except Yuuan Chen1, + And _he_ is banished to the City of Chiang-ling, + For three years an usher in the Penal Court. + Parted from me by three thousand leagues + He will never know even that the poem was made. + +[1] Wei Ying-wu, eighth century A.D., and T`ao Ch`ien, A.D. 365-427. + + + + +[25] WINTER NIGHT + +[_Written during his retirement in 812_] + + + My house is poor; those that I love have left me; + My body sick; I cannot join the feast. + There is not a living soul before my eyes + As I lie alone locked in my cottage room. + My broken lamp burns with a feeble flame; + My tattered curtains are crooked and do not meet. + "Tsek, tsek" on the door-step and window-sill + Again I hear the new snow fall. + As I grow older, gradually I sleep less; + I wake at midnight and sit up straight in bed. + If I had not learned the "art of sitting and forgetting,"[1] + How could I bear this utter loneliness? + Stiff and stark my body cleaves to the earth; + Unimpeded my soul yields to Change.[2] + So has it been for four hateful years, + Through one thousand and three hundred nights! + +[1] Yen Hui told Confucius that he had acquired the "art of sitting and +forgetting." Asked what that meant, Yen Hui replied, "I have learnt to +discard my body and obliterate my intelligence; to abandon matter and be +impervious to sense-perception. By this method I become one with the +All-Pervading."--_Chuang Tzu_, chap. vi. + +[2] "Change" is the principle of endless mutation which governs the +Universe. + + + + +[26] THE CHRYSANTHEMUMS IN THE EASTERN GARDEN + +[_A.D. 812_] + + + The days of my youth left me long ago; + And now in their turn dwindle my years of prime. + With what thoughts of sadness and loneliness + I walk again in this cold, deserted place! + In the midst of the garden long I stand alone; + The sunshine, faint; the wind and dew chill. + The autumn lettuce is tangled and turned to seed; + The fair trees are blighted and withered away. + All that is left are a few chrysanthemum-flowers + That have newly opened beneath the wattled fence. + I had brought wine and meant to fill my cup, + When the sight of these made me stay my hand. + I remember, when I was young, + How easily my mood changed from sad to gay. + If I saw wine, no matter at what season, + Before I drank it, my heart was already glad. + But now that age comes, + A moment of joy is harder and harder to get. + And always I fear that when I am quite old + The strongest liquor will leave me comfortless. + Therefore I ask you, late chrysanthemum-flower + At this sad season why do you bloom alone? + Though well I know that it was not for my sake, + Taught by you, for a while I will open my face. + + + + +[27] POEMS IN DEPRESSION, AT WEI VILLAGE + +[_A.D. 812_] + + +[1] + + I hug my pillow and do not speak a word; + In my empty room no sound stirs. + Who knows that, all day a-bed, + I am not ill and am not even asleep? + + +[2] + + Turned to jade are the boy's rosy cheeks; + To his sick temples the frost of winter clings.... + Do not wonder that my body sinks to decay; + Though my limbs are old, my heart is older yet. + + + + +[28] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN, WHO WAS SERVING IN TUNG-CH`UAN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Sullen, sullen, my brows are ever knit; + Silent, silent, my lips will not move. + It is not indeed that I choose to sorrow thus; + If I lift my eyes, who would share my joy? + Last Spring _you_ were called to the West + To carry arms in the lands of Pa and Shu; + And this Spring _I_ was banished to the South + To nurse my sickness on the River's oozy banks. + You are parted from me by six thousand leagues; + In another world, under another sky. + Of ten letters, nine do not reach; + What can I do to open my sad face? + Thirsty men often dream of drink; + Hungry men often dream of food. + Since Spring came, where do my dreams lodge? + Ere my eyes are closed, I have travelled to Tung-ch`uan. + + + + +[29] STARTING EARLY FROM THE CH`U-CH`ENG1 INN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Washed by the rain, dust and grime are laid; + Skirting the river, the road's course is flat. + The moon has risen on the last remnants of night; + The travellers' speed profits by the early cold. + In the great silence I whisper a faint song; + In the black darkness are bred sombre thoughts. + On the lotus-banks hovers a dewy breeze; + Through the rice-furrows trickles a singing stream. + At the noise of our bells a sleeping dog stirs; + At the sight of our torches a roosting bird wakes. + Dawn glimmers through the shapes of misty trees ... + For ten miles, till day at last breaks. + + + + +[30] RAIN + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + Since I lived a stranger in the City of Hsuun-yang + Hour by hour bitter rain has poured. + On few days has the dark sky cleared; + In listless sleep I have spent much time. + The lake has widened till it almost joins the sky; + The clouds sink till they touch the water's face. + Beyond my hedge I hear the boatmen's talk; + At the street-end I hear the fisher's song. + Misty birds are lost in yellow air; + Windy sails kick the white waves. + In front of my gate the horse and carriage-way + In a single night has turned into a river-bed. + + + + +[31] THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER + +[_A.D. 815_] + + + At the rise of summer a hundred beasts and trees + Join in gladness that the Season bids them thrive. + Stags and does frolic in the deep woods; + Snakes and insects are pleased by the rank grass. + Winged birds love the thick leaves; + Scaly fish enjoy the fresh weeds. + But to one place Summer forgot to come; + I alone am left like a withered straw ... + Banished to the world's end; + Flesh and bone all in distant ways. + From my native-place no tidings come; + Rebel troops flood the land with war. + Sullen grief, in the end, what will it bring? + I am only wearing my own heart away. + Better far to let both body and mind + Blindly yield to the fate that Heaven made. + Hsuun-yang abounds in good wine; + I will fill my cup and never let it be dry. + On Pen1 River fish are cheap as mud; + Early and late I will eat them, boiled and fried. + With morning rice at the temple under the hill, + And evening wine at the island in the lake ... + Why should my thoughts turn to my native land? + For in this place one could well end one's age. + + + + +[32] VISITING THE HSI-LIN TEMPLE + +[_Written during his exile_] + + + I dismount from my horse at the Hsi-lin Temple; + I throw the porter my slender riding-whip. + In the morning I work at a Government office-desk; + In the evening I become a dweller in the Sacred Hills. + In the second month to the north of Kuang-lu + The ice breaks and the snow begins to melt. + On the southern plantation the tea-plant thrusts its sprouts; + Through the northern sluice the veins of the spring ooze. + + * * * * * + + This year there is war in An-hui, + In every place soldiers are rushing to arms. + Men of learning have been summoned to the Council Board; + Men of action are marching to the battle-line. + Only I, who have no talents at all, + Am left in the mountains to play with the pebbles of the stream. + + + + +[33] PROSE LETTER TO YUUAN CHEN1 + +[_A.D. 818_] + + +Night of the tenth day of the fourth month. Lo-t`ien[1] says: O +Wei-chih,[2] Wei-chih, it is three years since I saw your face and +almost two years since I had a letter from you. Is man's life so long +that he can afford such partings? Much less should hearts joined by glue +be set in bodies remote as Hu and Yuueh.[3] In promotion we could not be +together; and in failure we cannot forget each other. Snatched and +wrenched apart, separately each of us grows grey. O Wei-chih, what is to +be done? But this is the work of Heaven and there is no use in speaking +of it. + +When I first arrived at Hsuun-yang, Hsiung Ju-teng1[4] came with the +letter which you had written the year before, when you were so ill. +First you told me of the progress of your illness, next of your feelings +while you were ill and last you spoke of all our meetings and partings, +and of the occasion of your own difficulties and dangers. You had no +time to write more, but sent a bundle of your writings with a note +attached, which said, "Later on I will send a message by Po +Min-chung.[5] Ask him for news and that will do instead of a letter." +Alas! Is it thus that Wei-chih treats me? But again, I read the poem you +wrote when you heard I had been banished: + + _The lamp had almost spent its light: shadows filled the room, + The night I heard that Lo-t`ien was banished to Kiu-kiang. + And I that had lain sick to death sat up suddenly in bed; + A dark wind blowing rain entered at the cold window._ + +If even strangers' hearts are touched by these lines, much more must +mine be; so that to this day I cannot recite them without pain. Of this +matter I will say no more, but tell you briefly what has passed of late. + +It is more than three years since I came to Kiu-kiang. All this time my +body has been strong and my heart much at peace. There has been no +sickness in my household, even among the servants. Last summer my elder +brother arrived from Hsuu-chou, leading by the hand six or seven little +brothers and sisters, orphans of various households. So that I have +under my eyes all those who at present demand my care. They share with +me cold and heat, hunger and satiety. This is my first consolation. + +The climate of the River Province is somewhat cool, so that fevers and +epidemics are rare. And while snakes and mosquitoes are few, the fish in +the Pen1 are remarkably fat, the River wine is exceedingly good, and +indeed for the most part the food is like that of the North Country. +Although the mouths within my doors are many and the salary of a +Sub-Prefect is small, by a thrifty application of my means, I am yet +able to provide for my household without seeking any man's assistance to +clothe their backs or fill their bellies. This is my second consolation. + +In the autumn of last year I visited Lu Shan[6] for the first time. +Reaching a point between the Eastern Forest and Western Forest Temples, +beneath the Incense-Burner Peak, I was enamoured by the unequalled +prospect of cloud-girt waters and spray-clad rocks. Unable to leave +this place, I built a cottage here. Before it stand ten tall pines and a +thousand tapering bamboos. With green creepers I fenced my garden; with +white stones I made bridge and path. Flowing waters encircle my home; +flying spray falls between the eaves. Red pomegranate and white lotus +cluster on the steps of the pond. All is after this pattern, though I +cannot here name each delight. Whenever I come here alone, I am moved to +prolong my stay to ten days; for of the things that have all my life +most pleased me, not one is missing. So that not only do I forget to go +back, but would gladly end my days here. This is my third consolation. + +Remembering that not having had news of me for so long, you might be in +some anxiety with regard to me, I have hastened to set your mind at rest +by recording these three consolations. What else I have to tell shall be +set out in due order, as follows....[7] + +Wei-chih, Wei-chih! The night I wrote this letter I was sitting at the +mountain-window of my thatched hut. I let my brush run as my hand willed +and wrote at hazard as my thoughts came. When I folded it and addressed +it, I found that dawn had come. I raised my head and saw only a few +mountain-priests, some sitting, some sleeping. I heard the mournful +cries of mountain apes and the sad twitterings of valley birds. O friend +of all my life, parted from me by a thousand leagues, at such times as +this "dim thoughts of the World"[8] creep upon me for a while; so, +following my ancient custom, I send you these three couplets: + + _I remember how once I wrote you a letter sitting in the Palace at + night, + At the back of the Hall of Golden Bells, when dawn was coming in the + sky. + This night I fold your letter--in what place? + Sitting in a cottage on Lu Shan, by the light of a late lamp. + The caged bird and fettered ape are neither of them dead yet; + In the world of men face to face will they ever meet again?_ + +O Wei-chih, Wei-chih! This night, this heart--do you know them or not? +Lo-t`ien bows his head. + +[1] Other name of Po Chuu-i. + +[2] Other name of Yuuan Chen1. + +[3] The extreme North and South of China. + +[4] A poet, several of whose short poems are well-known. + +[5] The son of Po Chuu-i`s uncle Po Ch`i-k`ang. + +[6] A famous mountain near Kiu-kiang. + +[7] What followed is omitted in the printed text. + +[8] This expression is used by Yuuan Chen1 in a poem addressed to Po +Chuu-i. By "the World," he means their life together at Court. + + + + +[34] HEARING THE EARLY ORIOLE + +[_Written in exile_] + + + When the sun rose I was still lying in bed; + An early oriole sang on the roof of my house. + For a moment I thought of the Royal Park at dawn + When the Birds of Spring greeted their Lord from his trees. + I remembered the days when I served before the Throne + Pencil in hand, on duty at the Ch`eng1-ming;[1] + At the height of spring, when I paused an instant from work, + Morning and evening, was _this_ the voice I heard? + Now in my exile the oriole sings again + In the dreary stillness of Hsuun-yang town ... + The bird's note cannot really have changed; + All the difference lies in the listener's heart. + If he could but forget that he lives at the World's end, + The bird would sing as it sang in the Palace of old. + +[1] Name of a palace at Ch`ang-an. + + + + +[35] DREAMING THAT I WENT WITH LU AND YU TO VISIT YUUAN CHEN1 + +[_Written in exile_] + + + At night I dreamt I was back in Ch`ang-an; + I saw again the faces of old friends. + And in my dreams, under an April sky, + They led me by the hand to wander in the spring winds. + Together we came to the village of Peace and Quiet; + We stopped our horses at the gate of Yuuan Chen1. + Yuuan Chen1 was sitting all alone; + When he saw me coming, a smile came to his face. + He pointed back at the flowers in the western court; + Then opened wine in the northern summer-house. + He seemed to be saying that neither of us had changed; + He seemed to be regretting that joy will not stay; + That our souls had met only for a little while, + To part again with hardly time for greeting. + I woke up and thought him still at my side; + I put out my hand; there was nothing there at all. + + + + +[36] THE FIFTEENTH VOLUME + +[_Having completed the fifteenth volume of his works, the poet sends it +to his friends Yuuan Chen1 and Li Chien, with a jesting poem._] + +[_Written in 818_] + + + My long poem, the "Eternal Grief,"[1] is a beautiful and moving work; + My ten "Songs of Shensi" are models of tunefulness. + I cannot prevent Old Yuuan from stealing my best rhymes; + But I earnestly beg Little Li to respect my ballads and songs. + While I am alive riches and honour will never fall to my lot; + But well I know that after I am dead the fame of my books will live. + This random talk and foolish boasting forgive me, for to-day + I have added Volume Fifteen to the row that stands to my name. + +[1] See Giles, "Chinese Literature," p. 169. + + + + +[37] INVITATION TO HSIAO CHUU-SHIH[1] + +[_Written when Governor of Chung-Chou_] + + + Within the Gorges there is no lack of men; + They are people one meets, not people one cares for. + At my front door guests also arrive; + They are people one sits with, not people one knows. + When I look up, there are only clouds and trees; + When I look down--only my wife and child. + I sleep, eat, get up or sit still; + Apart from that, nothing happens at all. + But beyond the city Hsiao the hermit dwells; + And with _him_ at least I find myself at ease. + For _he_ can drink a full flagon of wine + And is good at reciting long-line poems. + Some afternoon, when the clerks have all gone home, + At a season when the path by the river bank is dry, + I beg you, take up your staff of bamboo-wood + And find your way to the parlour of the Government House. + +[1] Nos. 37, 38, 39, and 40 were written when the poet was Governor of a +remote part of Ssechuan,--in the extreme west of China. + + + + +[38] TO LI CHIEN + +[_A.D. 818_] + + + The province I govern is humble and remote; + Yet our festivals follow the Courtly Calendar. + At rise of day we sacrificed to the Wind God, + When darkly, darkly, dawn glimmered in the sky. + Officers followed, horsemen led the way; + They brought us out to the wastes beyond the town, + Where river mists fall heavier than rain, + And the fires on the hill leap higher than the stars. + + Suddenly I remembered the early levees at Court + When you and I galloped to the Purple Yard. + As we walked our horses up Dragon Tail Street + We turned our heads and gazed at the Southern Hills. + Since we parted, both of us have been growing old; + And our minds have been vexed by many anxious cares. + Yet even now I fancy my ears are full + Of the sound of jade tinkling on your bridle-straps. + + + + +[39] THE SPRING RIVER + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Heat and cold, dusk and dawn have crowded one upon the other; + Suddenly I find it is two years since I came to Chung-chou. + Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening + drum; + From my upper windows all I see is the ships that come and go.[1] + In vain the orioles tempt me with their song to stray beneath + the flowering trees; + In vain the grasses lure me by their colour to sit beside the pond. + There is one thing and one alone I never tire of watching-- + The spring river as it trickles over the stones and babbles past + the rocks. + +[1] "The Emperor Saga of Japan [reigned A.D. 810-23] one day quoted to +his Minister, Ono no Takamura, the couplet: + + 'Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening + drum; + From my upper windows in the distance I see ships that come and go.' + +Takamura, thinking these were the Emperor's own verses, said: 'If I may +venture to criticize an august composition, I would suggest that the +phrase "in the distance" be altered.' The Emperor was delighted, for he +had purposely changed 'all I see' to 'in the distance I see.' At that +time there was only one copy of Po Chuu-i's poems in Japan and the +Emperor, to whom it belonged, had allowed no one to see it."--From the +_Koudanshou_ [twelfth century]. + + + + +[40] AFTER COLLECTING THE AUTUMN TAXES + + + From my high castle I look at the town below + Where the natives of Pa cluster like a swarm of flies. + How can I govern these people and lead them aright? + I cannot even understand what they say. + But at least I am glad, now that the taxes are in, + To learn that in my province there is no discontent. + I fear its prosperity is not due to me + And was only caused by the year's abundant crops, + The papers that lie on my desk are simple and few; + My house by the moat is leisurely and still. + In the autumn rain the berries fall from the eaves; + At the evening bell the birds return to the wood. + A broken sunlight quavers over the southern porch + Where I lie on my couch abandoned to idleness. + + + + +[41] LODGING WITH THE OLD MAN OF THE STREAM + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Men's hearts love gold and jade; + Men's mouths covet wine and flesh. + Not so the old man of the stream; + He drinks from his gourd and asks nothing more. + South of the stream he cuts firewood and grass; + North of the stream he has built wall and roof. + Yearly he sows a single acre of land; + In spring he drives two yellow calves. + In these things he finds great repose; + Beyond these he has no wish or care. + By chance I met him walking by the water-side; + He took me home and lodged me in his thatched hut. + When I parted from him, to seek market and Court, + This old man asked my rank and pay. + Doubting my tale, he laughed loud and long: + "Privy Councillors do not sleep in barns." + + + + +[42] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Can the single cup of wine + We drank this morning have made my heart so glad? + This is a joy that comes only from within, + Which those who witness will never understand. + I have but two brothers + And bitterly grieved that both were far away; + This Spring, back through the Gorges of Pa, + I have come to them safely, ten thousand leagues. + Two sisters I had + Who had put up their hair, but not twined the sash;[1] + Yesterday both were married and taken away + By good husbands in whom I may well trust. + I am freed at last from the thoughts that made me grieve, + As though a sword had cut a rope from my neck. + And limbs grow light when the heart sheds its care: + Suddenly I seem to be flying up to the sky! + + * * * * * + + Hsing-chien, drink your cup of wine + Then set it down and listen to what I say. + Do not sigh that your home is far away; + Do not mind if your salary is small. + Only pray that as long as life lasts, + You and I may never be forced to part. + +[1] I.e., got married. + + + + +[43] THE PINE-TREES IN THE COURTYARD + +[_A.D. 820_] + + + Below the hall + The pine-trees grow in front of the steps, + Irregularly scattered,--not in ordered lines. + Some are tall and some are low: + The tallest of them is six roods high; + The lowest but ten feet. + They are like wild things + And no one knows who planted them. + They touch the walls of my blue-tiled house; + Their roots are sunk in the terrace of white sand. + Morning and evening they are visited by the wind and moon; + Rain or fine,--they are free from dust and mud. + In the gales of autumn they whisper a vague tune; + From the suns of summer they yield a cool shade. + At the height of spring the fine evening rain + Fills their leaves with a load of hanging pearls. + At the year's end the time of great snow + Stamps their branches with a fret of glittering jade. + Of the Four Seasons each has its own mood; + Among all the trees none is like another. + Last year, when they heard I had bought this house, + Neighbours mocked and the World called me mad-- + That a whole family of twice ten souls + Should move house for the sake of a few pines! + Now that I have come to them, what have they given me? + They have only loosened the buckles of my care. + Yet even so, they are "profitable friends,"[1] + And fill my need of "converse with wise men." + Yet when I consider how, still a man of the world, + In belt and cap I scurry through dirt and dust, + From time to time my heart twinges with shame + That I am not fit to be master of my pines! + +[1] See "Analects of Confucius" 4 and 5, where three kinds of +"profitable friends" and three kinds of "profitable pleasures" are +described; the third of the latter being "plenty of intelligent +companions." + + + + +[44] SLEEPING ON HORSEBACK + +[_A.D. 822_] + + + We had rode long and were still far from the inn; + My eyes grew dim; for a moment I fell asleep. + Under my right arm the whip still dangled; + In my left hand the reins for an instant slackened. + Suddenly I woke and turned to question my groom: + "We have gone a hundred paces since you fell asleep." + Body and spirit for a while had exchanged place; + Swift and slow had turned to their contraries. + For these few steps that my horse had carried me + Had taken in my dream countless aeons of time! + True indeed is that saying of Wise Men + "A hundred years are but a moment of sleep." + + + + +[45] PARTING FROM THE WINTER STOVE + +[_A.D. 822_] + + + On the fifth day after the rise of Spring, + Everywhere the season's gracious altitudes! + The white sun gradually lengthening its course, + The blue-grey clouds hanging as though they would fall; + The last icicle breaking into splinters of jade; + The new stems marshalling red sprouts. + The things I meet are all full of gladness; + It is not only _I_ who love the Spring. + To welcome the flowers I stand in the back garden; + To enjoy the sunlight I sit under the front eaves. + Yet still in my heart there lingers one regret; + Soon I shall part with the flame of my red stove! + + + + +[46] GOOD-BYE TO THE PEOPLE OF HANGCHOW + +[_A.D. 824_] + + + Elders and officers line the returning road; + Wine and soup load the parting table. + I have not ruled you with the wisdom of Shao Kung;[1] + What is the reason your tears should fall so fast? + My taxes were heavy, though many of the people were poor; + The farmers were hungry, for often their fields were dry. + All I did was to dam the water of the Lake[2] + And help a little in a year when things were bad. + +[1] A legendary ruler who dispensed justice sitting under a wild +pear-tree. + +[2] Po Chuu-i built the dam on the Western Lake which is still known as +"Po's dam." + + + + +[47] WRITTEN WHEN GOVERNOR OF SOOCHOW + +[_A.D. 825_] + + + A Government building, not my own home. + A Government garden, not my own trees. + But at Lo-yang I have a small house + And on Wei River I have built a thatched hut. + I am free from the ties of marrying and giving in marriage; + If I choose to retire, I have somewhere to end my days. + And though I have lingered long beyond my time, + To retire now would be better than not at all! + + + + +[48] GETTING UP EARLY ON A SPRING MORNING + +[_Part of a poem written when Governor of Soochow in 825_] + + + The early light of the rising sun shines on the beams of my house; + The first banging of opened doors echoes like the roll of a drum. + The dog lies curled on the stone step, for the earth is wet with dew; + The birds come near to the window and chatter, telling that the day + is fine. + With the lingering fumes of yesterday's wine my head is still heavy; + With new doffing of winter clothes my body has grown light. + + + + +[49] LOSING A SLAVE-GIRL + +[_Date uncertain_] + + + Around my garden the little wall is low; + In the bailiff's lodge the lists are seldom checked. + I am ashamed to think we were not always kind; + I regret your labours, that will never be repaid. + The caged bird owes no allegiance; + The wind-tossed flower does not cling to the tree. + + * * * * * + + Where to-night she lies none can give us news; + Nor any knows, save the bright watching moon. + + + + +[50] THE GRAND HOUSES AT LO-YANG + +[_Circa A.D. 829_] + + + By woods and water, whose houses are these + With high gates and wide-stretching lands? + From their blue gables gilded fishes hang; + By their red pillars carven coursers run. + Their spring arbours, warm with caged mist; + Their autumn yards with locked moonlight cold. + To the stem of the pine-tree amber beads cling; + The bamboo-branches ooze ruby-drops. + Of lake and terrace who may the masters be? + Staff-officers, Councillors-of-State. + All their lives they have never come to see, + But know their houses only from the bailiff's map! + + + + +[51] THE CRANES + +[_A.D. 830_] + + + The western wind has blown but a few days; + Yet the first leaf already flies from the bough. + On the drying paths I walk in my thin shoes; + In the first cold I have donned my quilted coat. + Through shallow ditches the floods are clearing away; + Through sparse bamboos trickles a slanting light. + In the early dusk, down an alley of green moss, + The garden-boy is leading the cranes home. + + + + +[52] ON HIS BALDNESS + +[_A.D. 832_] + + + At dawn I sighed to see my hairs fall; + At dusk I sighed to see my hairs fall. + For I dreaded the time when the last lock should go ... + They are all gone and I do not mind at all! + I have done with that cumbrous washing and getting dry; + My tiresome comb for ever is laid aside. + Best of all, when the weather is hot and wet, + To have no top-knot weighing down on one's head! + I put aside my dusty conical cap; + And loose my collar-fringe. + In a silver jar I have stored a cold stream; + On my bald pate I trickle a ladle-full. + Like one baptized with the Water of Buddha's Law, + I sit and receive this cool, cleansing joy. + _Now_ I know why the priest who seeks Repose + Frees his heart by first shaving his head. + + + + +[53] THINKING OF THE PAST + +[_A.D. 833_] + + + In an idle hour I thought of former days; + And former friends seemed to be standing in the room. + And then I wondered "Where are they now?" + Like fallen leaves they have tumbled to the Nether Springs. + Han Yuu[1] swallowed his sulphur pills, + Yet a single illness carried him straight to the grave. + Yuuan Chen1 smelted autumn stone[2] + But before he was old, his strength crumbled away. + Master Tu possessed the "Secret of Health": + All day long he fasted from meat and spice. + The Lord Ts`ui, trusting a strong drug, + Through the whole winter wore his summer coat. + Yet some by illness and some by sudden death ... + All vanished ere their middle years were passed. + + Only I, who have never dieted myself + Have thus protracted a tedious span of age, + I who in young days + Yielded lightly to every lust and greed; + Whose palate craved only for the richest meat + And knew nothing of bismuth or calomel. + When hunger came, I gulped steaming food; + When thirst came, I drank from the frozen stream. + With verse I served the spirits of my Five Guts;[3] + With wine I watered the three Vital Spots. + Day by day joining the broken clod + I have lived till now almost sound and whole. + There is no gap in my two rows of teeth; + Limbs and body still serve me well. + Already I have opened the seventh book of years; + Yet I eat my fill and sleep quietly; + I drink, while I may, the wine that lies in my cup, + And all else commit to Heaven's care. + +[1] The famous poet, d. 824 A.D. + +[2] Carbamide crystals. + +[3] Heart, liver, stomach, lungs and kidney. + + + + +[54] A MAD POEM ADDRESSED TO MY NEPHEWS AND NIECES + +[_A.D. 835_] + + + The World cheats those who cannot read; + _I_, happily, have mastered script and pen. + The World cheats those who hold no office; + _I_ am blessed with high official rank. + The old are often ill; + _I_, at this day have not an ache or pain. + They are often burdened with ties; + But _I_ have finished with marriage and giving in marriage. + No changes happen to disturb the quiet of my mind; + No business comes to impair the vigour of my limbs. + Hence it is that now for ten years + Body and soul have rested in hermit peace. + And all the more, in the last lingering years + What I shall need are very few things. + A single rug to warm me through the winter; + One meal to last me the whole day. + It does not matter that my house is rather small; + One cannot sleep in more than one room! + It does not matter that I have not many horses; + One cannot ride in two coaches at once! + As fortunate as me among the people of the world + Possibly one would find seven out of ten. + As contented as me among a hundred men + Look as you may, you will not find one. + In the affairs of others even fools are wise; + In their own business even sages err. + To no one else would I dare to speak my heart, + So my wild words are addressed to my nephews and nieces. + + + + +[55] OLD AGE + +[_Addressed to Liu Yuu-hsi, who was born in the same year_] + +[_A.D. 835_] + + + We are growing old together, you and I, + Let us ask ourselves, what is age like? + The dull eye is closed ere night comes; + The idle head, still uncombed at noon. + Propped on a staff, sometimes a walk abroad; + Or all day sitting with closed doors. + One dares not look in the mirror's polished face; + One cannot read small-letter books. + Deeper and deeper, one's love of old friends; + Fewer and fewer, one's dealings with young men. + One thing only, the pleasure of idle talk, + Is great as ever, when you and I meet. + + + + +[56] TO A TALKATIVE GUEST + +[_A.D. 836_] + + + The town visitor's easy talk flows in an endless stream; + The country host's quiet thoughts ramble timidly on. + "I beg you, Sir, do not tell me about things at Ch`ang-an; + For you entered just when my harp was tuned and lying balanced on + my knees." + + + + +[57] TO LIU YU-HSI + +[_A.D. 838_] + + + In length of days and soundness of limb you and I are one; + Our eyes are not wholly blind, nor our ears quite deaf. + Deep drinking we lie together, fellows of a spring day; + Or gay-hearted boldly break into gatherings of young men. + When, seeking flowers, we borrowed his horse, the river-keeper was + vexed; + When, to play on the water, we stole his boat, the Duke Ling was sore. + I hear it said that in Lo-yang, people are all shocked, + And call us by the name of "Liu and Po, those two mad old men." + + + + +[58] MY SERVANT WAKES ME + +[_A.D. 839_] + + + My servant wakes me: "Master, it is broad day. + Rise from bed; I bring you bowl and comb. + Winter comes and the morning air is chill; + To-day your Honour must not venture abroad." + When I stay at home, no one comes to call; + What must I do with the long, idle hours? + Setting my chair where a faint sunshine falls + I have warmed wine and opened my poetry-books. + + + + +[59] SINCE I LAY ILL + +[_A.D. 840_] + + + Since I lay ill, how long has passed? + Almost a hundred heavy-hanging days. + The maids have learnt to gather my medicine-herbs; + The dog no longer barks when the doctor comes. + The jars in my cellar are plastered deep with mould; + My singer's carpets are half crumbled to dust. + How can I bear, when the Earth renews her light, + To watch from a pillow the beauty of Spring unfold? + + + + +[60] SONG OF PAST FEELINGS [With Preface] + +[_Circa A.D. 840_] + + +When Lo-t`ien[1] was old, he fell ill of a palsy. So he made a list of +his possessions and examined his expenses, that he might reject whatever +had become superfluous. He had in his employ a girl about twenty years +old called Fan Su, whose postures delighted him when she sang or danced. +But above all she excelled in singing the "Willow-Branch," so that many +called her by the name of this song, and she was well known by this name +in the town of Lo-yang. But she was on the list of unnecessary expenses +and was to be sent away. + +He had too a white horse with black mane, sturdy and sure-footed, which +he had ridden for many years. It stood on the list of things which could +be dispensed with, and was to be sold. When the groom led the horse +through the gate, it tossed its head and looked back, neighing once with +a sound in its voice that seemed to say: "I know I am leaving you and +long to stay." Su, when she heard the horse neigh, rose timidly, bowed +before me and spoke sweetly, as shall hereafter be shown. When she had +done speaking her tears fell. + +When first I heard Su's words, I was too sad to speak and could not +answer her. But in a little while I ordered the bridle to be turned and +the sleeve reversed.[1] Then I gave her wine and drank a cup myself, and +in my happiness sang a few score notes. And these notes turned into a +poem, a poem without fixed measure, for the measure followed my +irregular tune. In all there were 255 words. + +Alas! I am no Sage. I could neither forget past feelings nor show such +sensibility as this beast reputed incapable of feeling! Things that +happen lay hold of my heart, and when my heart is moved, I cannot +control it. Therefore, smiling at myself, I called this song "A Song of +Past Feelings Unforgotten." + +The Song says: + + _I was selling my white horse + And sending Willow Branch away. + She covered her dark eyebrows; + He trailed his golden halter. + The horse, for want of speech, + Neighed long and turned his head; + And Willow Branch, twice bowing, + Knelt long and spoke to me: + "Master, you have ridden this horse five years, + One thousand eight hundred days; + Meekly he has borne the bit, + Without shying, without bolting. + And I have served you for ten years, + Three thousand and six hundred days; + Patient carrier of towel and comb,[2] + Without complaint, without loss. + And now, though my shape is lowly, + I am still fresh and strong. + And the colt is still in his prime, + Without lameness or fault. + Why should you not use the colt's strength + To replace your sick legs? + Why should you not use my song to gladden your casual cup? + Need you in one morning send both away, + Send them away never to return? + This is what Su would say to you before she goes, + And this is what your horse meant also + When he neighed at the gate. + Seeing my distress, who am a woman, + And hearing its cries, that is but a horse, + Shall our master alone remain pitiless?"_ + +I looked up and sighed: I looked down and laughed. Then I said: + + _"Dear horse, stop your sad cries! + Sweet Su, dry your bitter tears! + For you shall go back to your stall; + And you to the women's room. + For though I am ill indeed, + And though my years are at their close, + The doom of Hsiang Chi[3] has not befallen me yet. + Must I in a single day + Lose the horse I rode and the lady I loved? + Su, O Su! + Sing once again the Song of the Willow Branch! + And I will pour you wine in that golden cup + And take you with me to the Land of Drunkenness."_ + +[1] I.e., Po Chuu-i himself. + +[2] I.e., performing the functions of a wife. + +[3] Who, surrounded at the battle of Kai-hsia (202 B.C.), gave his horse +to a boatman, lest it should fall into the hands of the enemy. + + + + +[61] ILLNESS + +[_Written circa 842, when he was paralyzed_] + + + Dear friends, there is no cause for so much sympathy. + I shall certainly manage from time to time to take my walks abroad. + All that matters is an active mind, what is the use of feet? + By land one can ride in a carrying-chair; by water, be rowed in a boat. + + + + +[62] RESIGNATION + + + Keep off your thoughts from things that are past and done; + For thinking of the past wakes regret and pain. + Keep off your thoughts from thinking what will happen; + To think of the future fills one with dismay. + Better by day to sit like a sack in your chair; + Better by night to lie a stone in your bed. + When food comes, then open your mouth; + When sleep comes, then close your eyes. + + + + +YUUAN CHEN + +[_A.D. 799-831_] + + + + +[63] THE STORY OF TS`UI YING-YING + + +During the Cheng1-Yuuan[1] period of the T`ang dynasty there lived a +man called Chang.[2] His nature was gentle and refined, and his person +of great beauty. But his deeper feelings were resolutely held in +restraint, and he would indulge in no license. Sometimes his friends +took him to a party and he would try to join their frolics; but when the +rest were shouting and scuffling their hardest, Chang only pretended to +take his share. For he could never overcome his shyness. So it came +about that though already twenty-three, he had not yet enjoyed a woman's +beauty. To those who questioned him he answered, "It is not such as +Master Teng1-t'u[3] who are true lovers of beauty; for they are merely +profligates. I consider myself a lover of beauty, who happens never to +have met with it. And I am of this opinion because I know that, in other +things, whatever is beautiful casts its spell upon me; so that I cannot +be devoid of feeling." His questioners only laughed. + +[1] A.D. 785-805. + +[2] I.e., Yuuan Chen1 himself. + +[3] Type of the indiscriminate lover, fourth century B.C. + +About this time Chang went to Puchow. Some two miles east of the town +there is a temple called the P`-u-chiu-ssu, and here he took up his +lodging. Now it happened that at this time the widow of a certain Ts`ui +was returning to Ch`ang-an.[4] She passed through Puchow on her way and +stayed at the same temple. + +[4] The capital of China at that time; now called Hsi-an-fu. + +This lady was born of the Cheng1 family and Chang's mother was also a +Cheng1. He unravelled their relationship and found that they were +second-cousins. + +This year General Hun-Chan[5] died at Puchow. There was a certain +Colonel Ting Wen1-ya who ill-treated his troops. The soldiers +accordingly made Hun Chan's funeral the occasion of a mutiny, and began +to plunder the town. The Ts`ui family had brought with them much +valuable property and many slaves. Subjected to this sudden danger when +far from home, they had no one from whom they could seek protection. + +[5] B. A.D. 735; d. 799. Famous for his campaigns against the Tibetans +and Uighurs. + +Now it happened that Chang had been friendly with the political party to +which the commander at Puchow belonged. At his request a guard was sent +to the temple and no disorder took place there. A few days afterwards +the Civil Commissioner Tu Chio was ordered by the Emperor to take over +the command of the troops. The mutineers then laid down their arms. + +The widow Cheng1 was very sensible of the service which Chang had +rendered. She therefore provided dainties and invited him to a banquet +in the middle hall. At table she turned to him and said, "I, your +cousin, a lonely and widowed relict, had young ones in my care. If we +had fallen into the hands of the soldiery, I could not have helped them. +Therefore the lives of my little boy and young daughter were saved by +your protection, and they owe you eternal gratitude. I will now cause +them to kneel before you, their merciful cousin, that they may thank you +for your favours." First she sent for her son, Huan-lang, who was about +ten years old, a handsome and gentle child. Then she called to her +daughter, Ying-ying: "Come and bow to your cousin. Your cousin saved +your life." For a long while she would not come, saying that she was +not well. The widow grew angry and cried: "Your cousin saved your life. +But for his help, you would now be a prisoner. How can you treat him so +rudely?" + +At last she came in, dressed in everyday clothes, with a look of deep +unhappiness in her face. She had not put on any ornaments. Her hair hung +down in coils, the black of her two eyebrows joined, her cheeks were not +rouged. But her features were of exquisite beauty and shone with an +almost dazzling lustre. + +Chang bowed to her, amazed. She sat down by her mother's side and looked +all the time towards her, turning from him with a fixed stare of +aversion, as though she could not endure his presence. + +He asked how old she was. The widow answered, "She was born in the year +of the present Emperor's reign that was a year of the Rat, and now it is +the year of the Dragon in the period Cheng1-yuuan.[6] So she must be +seventeen years old." + +[6] I.e., A.D. 800. + +Chang tried to engage her in conversation, but she would not answer, and +soon the dinner was over. He was passionately in love with her and +wanted to tell her so, but could find no way. + +Ying-ying had a maid-servant called Hung-niang, whom Chang sometimes met +and greeted. Once he stopped her and was beginning to tell her of his +love for her mistress; but she was frightened and ran away. Then Chang +was sorry he had not kept silence. + +Next day he met Hung-niang again, but was ashamed and did not say what +was in his mind. But this time the maid herself broached the subject and +said to Chang, "Master, I dare not tell her what you told me, or even +hint at it. But since your mother was a kinswoman of the Ts`uis, why do +you not seek my mistress's hand on that plea?" + +Chang said, "Since I was a child in arms, my nature has been averse to +intimacy. Sometimes I have idled with wearers of silk and gauze, but my +fancy was never once detained. I little thought that in the end I should +be entrapped. + +"Lately at the banquet I could scarcely contain myself; and since then, +when I walk, I forget where I am going and when I eat, I forget to +finish my meal, and do not know how to endure the hours from dawn to +dusk. + +"If we were to get married through a matchmaker and perform the +ceremonies of Sending Presents and Asking Names, it would take many +months, and by that time you would have to look for me 'in the +dried-fish shop.' What is the use of giving me such advice as that?" + +The maid replied, "My mistress clings steadfastly to her chastity, and +even an equal could not trip her with lewd talk. Much less may she be +won through the stratagems of a maid-servant. But she is skilled in +composition, and often when she has made a poem or essay, she is +restless and dissatisfied for a long while after. You must try to +provoke her by a love-poem. There is no other way." + +Chang was delighted and at once composed two Spring Poems to send her. +Hung-niang took them away and came back the same evening with a coloured +tablet, which she gave to Chang, saying, "This is from my mistress." It +bore the title "The Bright Moon of the Fifteenth Night." The words ran: + + _To wait for the moon I am sitting in the western parlour; + To greet the wind, I have left the door ajar. + When a flower's shadow stirred and brushed the wall, + For a moment I thought it the shadow of a lover coming._ + +Chang could not doubt her meaning. That night was the fourth after the +first decade of the second month. Beside the eastern wall of Ts`ui's +apartments there grew an apricot-tree; by climbing it one could cross +the wall. On the next night (which was the night of the full moon) Chang +used the tree as a ladder and crossed the wall. He went straight to the +western parlour and found the door ajar. Hung-niang lay asleep on the +bed. He woke her, and she cried in a voice of astonishment, "Master +Chang, what are you doing here?" Chang answered, half-truly: "Ts`ui's +letter invited me. Tell her I have come." Hung-niang soon returned, +whispering, "She is coming, she is coming." Chang was both delighted and +surprised, thinking that his salvation was indeed at hand. + +At last Ts`ui entered. + +Her dress was sober and correct, and her face was stern. She at once +began to reprimand Chang, saying, "I am grateful for the service which +you rendered to my family. You gave support to my dear mother when she +was at a loss how to save her little boy and young daughter. How came +you to send me a wicked message by the hand of a low maid-servant? In +protecting me from the license of others, you acted nobly. But now that +you wish to make me a partner to your own licentious desires, you are +asking me to accept one wrong in exchange for another. + +"How was I to repel this advance? I would gladly have hidden your +letter, but it would have been immoral to harbour a record of illicit +proposals. Had I shown it to my mother, I should ill have requited the +debt we owe you. Were I to entrust a message of refusal to a servant or +concubine, I feared it might not be truly delivered. I thought of +writing a letter to tell you what I felt; but I was afraid I might not +be able to make you understand. So I sent those trivial verses, that I +might be sure of your coming. I have no cause to be ashamed of an +irregularity which had no other object but the preservation of my +chastity." + +With these words she vanished. Chang remained for a long while petrified +with astonishment. At last he climbed back over the wall and went home +in despair. + +Several nights after this he was lying asleep near the verandah, when +some one suddenly woke him. He rose with a startled sigh and found that +Hung-niang was there, with bedclothes under her arm and a pillow in her +hand. She shook Chang, saying, "She is coming, she is coming. Why are +you asleep?" Then she arranged the bedclothes and pillow and went away. + +Chang sat up and rubbed his eyes. For a long while he thought he must be +dreaming, but he assumed a respectful attitude and waited. + +Suddenly Hung-niang came back, bringing her mistress with her. Ts`ui, +this time, was languid and flushed, yielding and wanton in her air, as +though her strength could scarcely support her limbs. Her former +severity had utterly disappeared. + +That night was the eighth of the second decade. The crystal beams of the +sinking moon twinkled secretly across their bed. Chang, in a strange +exaltation, half-believed that a fairy had come to him, and not a child +of mortal men. + +At last the temple bell sounded, dawn glimmered in the sky and +Hung-niang came back to fetch her mistress away. Ts`ui turned on her +side with a pretty cry, and followed her maid to the door. + +The whole night she had not spoken a word. + +Chang rose when it was half-dark, still thinking that perhaps it had +been a dream. But when it grew light, he saw her powder on his arm and +smelt her perfume in his clothes. A tear she had shed still glittered on +the mattress. + +For more than ten days afterwards he did not see her again. During this +time he began to make a poem called "Meeting a Fairy," in thirty +couplets. It was not yet finished, when he chanced to meet Hung-niang in +the road. He asked her to take the poem to Ts`ui. + +After this Ts`ui let him come to her, and for a month or more he crept +out at dawn and in at dusk, the two of them living together in that +western parlour of which I spoke before. + +Chang often asked her what her mother thought of him. Ts`ui said, "I +know she would not oppose my will. So why should we not get married at +once?" + +Soon afterwards, Chang had to go to the capital. Before starting, he +tenderly informed her of his departure. She did not reproach him, but +her face showed pitiable distress. On the night before he started, he +was not able to see her. + +After spending a few months in the west, Chang returned to Puchow and +again lodged for several months in the same building as the Ts`uis. He +made many attempts to see Ying-ying alone, but she would not let him do +so. Remembering that she was fond of calligraphy and verse, he +frequently sent her his own compositions, but she scarcely glanced at +them. + +It was characteristic of her that when any situation was at its acutest +point, she appeared quite unconscious of it. She talked glibly, but +would seldom answer a question. She expected absolute devotion, but +herself gave no encouragement. + +Sometimes when she was in the depth of despair, she would affect all the +while to be quite indifferent. It was rarely possible to know from her +face whether she was pleased or sorry. + +One night Chang came upon her unawares when she was playing on the harp, +with a touch full of passion. But when she saw him coming, she stopped +playing. This incident increased his infatuation. + +Soon afterwards, it became time for him to compete in the Literary +Examinations, and he was obliged once more to set out for the western +capital. + +The evening before his departure, he sat in deep despondency by Ts`ui's +side, but did not try again to tell her of his love. Nor had he told her +that he was going away, but she seemed to have guessed it, and with +submissive face and gentle voice, she said to him softly: "Those whom a +man leads astray, he will in the end abandon. It must be so, and I will +not reproach you. You deigned to corrupt me and now you deign to leave +me. That is all. And your vows of 'faithfulness till death'--they too +are cancelled. There is no need for you to grieve at this parting, but +since I see you so sad and can give you no other comfort--you once +praised my harp-playing; but I was bashful and would not play to you. +Now I am bolder, and if you choose, I will play you a tune." + +She took her harp and began the prelude to "Rainbow Skirts and Feather +Jackets."[7] But after a few bars the tune broke off into a wild and +passionate dirge. + +[7] A gay, court tune of the eighth century. + +All who were present caught their breath; but in a moment she stopped +playing, threw down her harp and, weeping bitterly, ran to her mother's +room. + +She did not come back. + +Next morning Chang left. The following year he failed in his +examinations and could not leave the capital. So, to unburden his heart, +he wrote a letter to Ts`ui. She answered him somewhat in this fashion: +"I have read your letter and cherish it dearly. It has filled my heart +half with sorrow, half with joy. You sent with it a box of garlands and +five sticks of paste, that I may decorate my head and colour my lips. + +"I thank you for your presents; but there is no one now to care how I +look. Seeing these things only makes me think of you and grieve the +more. + +"You say that you are prospering in your career at the capital, and I am +comforted by that news. But it makes me fear you will never come back +again to one who is so distant and humble. But _that_ is settled +forever, and it is no use talking of it. + +"Since last autumn I have lived in a dazed stupor. Amid the clamour of +the daytime, I have sometimes forced myself to laugh and talk; but alone +at night I have done nothing but weep. Or, if I have fallen asleep my +dreams have always been full of the sorrows of parting. Often I dreamt +that you came to me as you used to do, but always before the moment of +our joy your phantom vanished from my side. Yet, though we are still +bedfellows in my dreams, when I wake and think of it the time when we +were together seems very far off. For since we parted, the old year has +slipped away and a new year has begun.... + +"Ch`ang-an is a city of pleasure, where there are many snares to catch a +young man's heart. How can I hope that you will not forget one so +sequestered and insignificant as I? And indeed, if you were to be +faithful, so worthless a creature could never requite you. But our vows +of unending love--those _I_ at least can fulfil. + +"Because you are my cousin, I met you at the feast. Lured by a +maid-servant, I visited you in private. A girl's heart is not in her own +keeping. You 'tempted me by your ballads'[8] and I could not bring +myself to 'throw the shuttle.'[9] + +[8] As Ssu-ma tempted Cho Wen1-chuun, second century B.C. + +[9] As the neighbour's daughter did to Hsieh Kun (A.D. fourth century), +in order to repel his advances. + +"Then came the sharing of pillow and mat, the time of perfect loyalty +and deepest tenderness. And I, being young and foolish, thought it would +never end. + +"Now, having 'seen my Prince,'[10] I cannot love again; nor, branded by +the shame of self-surrender, am I fit to perform 'the service of towel +and comb';[11] and of the bitterness of the long celibacy which awaits +me, what need is there to speak? + +[10] Odes I. 1., X. 2. + +[11] = become a bride. + +"The good man uses his heart; and if by chance his gaze has fallen on +the humble and insignificant, till the day of his death, he continues +the affections of his life. The cynic cares nothing for people's +feelings. He will discard the small to follow the great, look upon a +former mistress merely as an accomplice in sin, and hold that the most +solemn vows are made only to be broken. He will reverse all natural +laws--as though Nature should suddenly let bone dissolve, while cinnabar +resisted the fire. The dew that the wind has shaken from the tree still +looks for kindness from the dust; and such, too, is the sum of _my_ +hopes and fears. + +"As I write, I am shaken by sobs and cannot tell you all that is in my +heart. My darling, I am sending you a jade ring that I used to play with +when I was a child. I want you to wear it at your girdle, that you may +become firm and flawless as this jade, and, in your affections, unbroken +as the circuit of this ring. + +"And with it I am sending a skein of thread and a tea-trough of flecked +bamboo. There is no value in these few things. I send them only to +remind you to keep your heart pure as jade and your affection unending +as this round ring. The bamboo is mottled as if with tears, and the +thread is tangled as the thoughts of those who are in sorrow. By these +tokens I seek no more than that, knowing the truth, you may think kindly +of me for ever. + +"Our hearts are very near, but our bodies are far apart. There is no +time fixed for our meeting; yet a secret longing can unite souls that +are separated by a thousand miles. + +"Protect yourself against the cold spring wind, eat well--look after +yourself in all ways and do not worry too much about your worthless +handmaid, + + TS`UI YING-YING." + +Chang showed this letter to his friends and so the story became known to +many who lived at that time. All who heard it were deeply moved; but +Chang, to their disappointment, declared that he meant to break with +Ts`ui. Yuuan Chen1, of Honan, who knew Chang well, asked him why he had +made this decision. + +Chang answered: + +"I have observed that in Nature whatever has perfect beauty is either +itself liable to sudden transformations or else is the cause of them in +others. If Ts`ui were to marry a rich gentleman and become his pet, she +would forever be changing, as the clouds change to rain, or as the scaly +dragon turns into the horned dragon. I, for one, could never keep pace +with her transformations. + +"Of old, Hsin of the Yin dynasty and Yu of the Chou dynasty ruled over +kingdoms of many thousand chariots, and their strength was very great. +Yet a single woman brought them to ruin, dissipating their hosts and +leading these monarchs to the assassin's knife. So that to this day they +are a laughing-stock to all the world. I know that my constancy could +not withstand such spells, and that is why I have curbed my passion." + +At these words all who were present sighed deeply. + +A few years afterwards Ts`ui married some one else and Chang also found +a wife. Happening once to pass the house where Ts`ui was living, he +called on her husband and asked to see her, saying he was her cousin. +The husband sent for her, but she would not come. Chang's vexation +showed itself in his face. Some one told Ts`ui of this and she secretly +wrote the poem: + + _Since I have grown so lean, my face has lost its beauty. + I have tossed and turned so many times that I am too tired to leave + my bed. + It is not that I mind the others seeing + How ugly I have grown; + It is _you_ who have caused me to lose my beauty, + Yet it is _you_ I am ashamed should see me!_ + + +Chang went away without meeting her, and a few days afterwards, when he +was leaving the town, wrote a poem of final farewell, which said: + + _You cannot say that you are abandoned and deserted; + For you have found some one to love you. + Why do you not convert your broodings over the past + Into kindness to your present husband?_ + +After that they never heard of one another again. Many of Chang's +contemporaries praised the skill with which he extricated himself from +this entanglement. + + + + +[64] THE PITCHER + +[_A.D. 779-831_] + + + I dreamt I climbed to a high, high plain; + And on the plain I found a deep well. + My throat was dry with climbing and I longed to drink; + And my eyes were eager to look into the cool shaft. + I walked round it; I looked right down; + I saw my image mirrored on the face of the pool. + An earthen pitcher was sinking into the black depths; + There was no rope to pull it to the well-head. + I was strangely troubled lest the pitcher should be lost, + And started wildly running to look for help. + From village to village I scoured that high plain; + The men were gone: the dogs leapt at my throat. + I came back and walked weeping round the well; + Faster and faster the blinding tears flowed-- + Till my own sobbing suddenly woke me up; + My room was silent; no one in the house stirred; + The flame of my candle flickered with a green smoke; + The tears I had shed glittered in the candle-light. + A bell sounded; I knew it was the midnight-chime; + I sat up in bed and tried to arrange my thoughts: + The plain in my dream was the graveyard at Ch`ang-an, + Those hundred acres of untilled land. + The soil heavy and the mounds heaped high; + And the dead below them laid in deep troughs. + Deep are the troughs, yet sometimes dead men + Find their way to the world above the grave. + And to-night my love who died long ago + Came into my dream as the pitcher sunk in the well. + That was why the tears suddenly streamed from my eyes, + Streamed from my eyes and fell on the collar of my dress. + + + + +PO HSING-CHIEN + +[_A.D. 799-831_] + +[_Brother_ of Po-Chuu-i] + + + + +[65] THE STORY OF MISS LI + + +Miss Li, ennobled with the title "Lady of Ch`ien-kuo," was once a +prostitute in Ch`ang-an. The devotion of her conduct was so remarkable +that I have thought it worth while to record her story. In the T`ien-pao +era[1] there was a certain nobleman, Governor of Ch`ang-chou and Lord of +Jung-yang, whose name and surname I will omit. He was a man of great +wealth and highly esteemed by all. He had passed his fiftieth year and +had a son who was close on twenty, a boy who in literary talent +outstripped all his companions. His father was proud of him and had +great hopes of his future. "This," he would say, "is the +'thousand-league colt' of our family." When the time came for the lad to +compete at the Provincial Examinations, his father gave him fine clothes +and a handsome coach with richly caparisoned horses for the journey; and +to provide for his expense at the Capital, he gave him a large sum of +money, saying, "I am sure that your talent is such that you will succeed +at the first attempt; but I am giving you two years' supply, that you +may pursue your career free from all anxiety." The young man was also +quite confident and saw himself getting the first place as clearly as he +saw the palm of his own hand. + +[1] A.D. 742-56. + +Starting from P`i-ling[2] he reached Ch`ang-an in a few weeks and took a +house in the Pu-cheng1 quarter. One day he was coming back from a +visit to the Eastern Market. He entered the City by the eastern gate of +P`ing-k`ang and was going to visit a friend who lived in the +south-western part of the town. When he reached the Ming-k`o Bend, he +saw a house of which the gate and courtyard were rather narrow; but the +house itself was stately and stood well back from the road. One of the +double doors was open, and at it stood a lady, attended by her +maid-servant. She was of exquisite, bewitching beauty, such as the world +has seldom produced. + +[2] In Kiang-su, near Ch`ang-chou. + +When he saw her, the young man unconsciously reined in his horse and +hesitated. Unable to leave the spot, he purposely let his whip fall to +the ground and waited for his servant to pick it up, all the time +staring at the lady in the doorway. She too was staring and met his gaze +with a look that seemed to be an answer to his admiration. But in the +end he went away without daring to speak to her. + +But he could not put the thought of her out of his mind and secretly +begged those of his friends who were most expert in the pleasures of +Ch`ang-an to tell him what they knew of the girl. He learnt from them +that the house belonged to a low and unprincipled woman named Li. When +he asked what chance he had of winning the daughter, they answered: "The +woman Li is possessed of considerable property, for her previous +dealings have been with wealthy and aristocratic families, from whom she +has received enormous sums. Unless you are willing to spend many +thousand pounds, the daughter will have nothing to do with you." + +The young man answered: "All I care about is to win her. I do not mind +if she costs a million pounds." The next day he set out in his best +clothes, with many servants riding behind him, and knocked at the door +of Mrs. Li's house. Immediately a page-boy drew the bolt. The young man +asked, "Can you tell me whose house this is?" The boy did not answer, +but ran back into the house and called out at the top of his voice, +"Here is the gentleman who dropped his whip the other day!" + +Miss Li was evidently very much pleased. He heard her saying, "Be sure +not to let him go away. I am just going to do my hair and change my +clothes; I will be back in a minute." The young man, in high spirits, +followed the page-boy into the house. A white-haired old lady was going +upstairs, whom he took to be the girl's mother. Bowing low, the young +man addressed her as follows: "I am told that you have a vacant plot of +land, which you would be willing to let as building-ground. Is that +true?" The old lady answered, "I am afraid the site is too mean and +confined; it would be quite unsuitable for a gentleman's house. I should +not like to offer it to you." She then took him into the guest-room, +which was a very handsome one, and asked him to be seated, saying, "I +have a daughter who has little either of beauty or accomplishment, but +she is fond of seeing strangers. I should like you to meet her." + +So saying, she called for her daughter, who presently entered. Her eyes +sparkled with such fire, her arms were so dazzling white and there was +in her movements such an exquisite grace that the young man could only +leap to his feet in confusion and did not dare raise his eyes. When +their salutations were over, he began to make a few remarks about the +weather; and realized as he did so that her beauty was of a kind he had +never encountered before. + +They sat down again. Tea was made and wine poured out. The vessels used +were spotlessly clean. He lingered till the day was almost over; the +curfew-drum sounded its four beats. The old lady asked if he lived far +away. He answered untruthfully, "Several leagues beyond the Yen-p`ing +Gate," hoping that they would ask him to stay. The old lady said, "The +drum has sounded. You will have to go back at once, unless you mean to +break the law." + +The young man answered, "I was being so agreeably entertained that I did +not notice how rapidly the day had fled. My house is a long way off and +in the city I have no friends or relations. What am I to do?" Miss Li +then interposed, saying, "If you can forgive the meanness of our poor +home, what harm would there be in your spending the night with us?" He +looked doubtfully at the girl's mother, but met with no discouragement. + +Calling his servants, he gave them money and told them to buy provisions +for the night. But the girl laughingly stopped him, saying, "That is not +the way guests are entertained. Our humble house will provide for your +wants to-night, if you are willing to partake of our simple fare and +defer your bounty to another occasion." He tried to refuse, but in the +end she would not allow him to, and they all moved to the western hall. +The curtains, screens, blinds and couches were of dazzling splendour; +while the toilet-boxes, rugs, and pillows were of the utmost elegance. +Candles were lighted and an excellent supper was served. + +After supper the old lady retired, leaving the lovers engaged in the +liveliest conversation, laughing and chattering completely at their +ease. + +After a while the young man said: "I passed your house the other day and +you happened to be standing at the door. And after that, I could think +of nothing but you; whether I lay down to rest or sat down to eat, I +could not stop thinking of you." She laughed and answered: "It was just +the same with me." He said: "You must know that I did not come to-day +simply to look for building-land. I came hoping that you would fulfil +my lifelong desire; but I was not sure how you would welcome me. What--" + +He had not finished speaking when the old woman came back and asked what +they were saying. When they told her, she laughed and said, "Has not +Mencius written that 'the relationship between men and women is the +ground-work of society'? When lovers are agreed, not even the mandate of +a parent will deter them. But my daughter is of humble birth. Are you +sure that she is fit to 'present pillow and mat' to a great man?" + +He came down from the dais and, bowing low, begged that she would accept +him as her slave. Henceforward the old lady regarded him as her +son-in-law; they drank heavily together and finally parted. Next morning +he had all his boxes and bags brought round to Mrs. Li's house and +settled there permanently. Henceforward he shut himself up with his +mistress and none of his friends ever heard of him. He consorted only +with actors and dancers and low people of that kind, passing the time in +wild sports and wanton feasting. When his money was all spent, he sold +his horses and men-servants. In about a year his money, property, +servants and horses were all gone. + +For some time the old lady's manner towards him had been growing +gradually colder, but his mistress remained as devoted as ever. One day +she said to him, "We have been together a year, but I am still not with +child. They say that the spirit of the Bamboo Grove answers a woman's +prayers as surely as an echo. Let us go to his temple and offer a +libation." + +The young man, not suspecting any plot, was delighted to take her to the +temple, and having pawned his coat to buy sweet wine for the libation, +he went with her and performed the ceremony of prayer. They stayed one +night at the temple and came back next day. Whipping up their donkey, +they soon arrived at the north gate of the P`ing-k`ang quarter. At this +point his mistress turned to him and said, "My aunt's house is in a +turning just near here. How would it be if we were to go there and rest +for a little?" + +He drove on as she directed him, and they had not gone more than a +hundred paces, when he saw the entrance to a spacious carriage-drive. A +servant who belonged to the place came out and stopped the cart, saying, +"This is the entrance." The young man got down and was met by some one +who came out and asked who they were. When told that it was Miss Li, he +went back and announced her. Presently a married lady came out who +seemed to be about forty. She greeted him, saying, "Has my niece +arrived?" Miss Li then got out of the cart and her aunt said to her: +"Why have you not been to see me for so long?" At which they looked at +one another and laughed. Then Miss Li introduced him to her aunt and +when that was over they all went into a side garden near the Western +Halberd Gate. In the middle of the garden was a pagoda, and round it +grew bamboos and trees of every variety, while ponds and summer-houses +added to its air of seclusion. He asked Miss Li if this were her aunt's +estate; she laughed, but did not answer and spoke of something else. + +Tea of excellent quality was served; but when they had been drinking it +for a little while, a messenger came galloping up on a huge Fergana +horse, saying that Miss Li's mother had suddenly been taken very ill and +had already lost consciousness, so that they had better come back as +quickly as possible. + +Miss Li said to her aunt: "I am very much upset. I think I had better +take the horse and ride on ahead. Then I will send it back, and you and +my husband can come along later." The young man was anxious to go with +her, but the aunt and her servants engaged him in conversation, +flourishing their hands in front of him and preventing him from leaving +the garden. The aunt said to him: "No doubt my sister is dead by this +time. You and I ought to discuss together what can be done to help with +the expenses of the burial. What is the use of running off like that? +Stay here and help me to make a plan for the funeral and mourning +ceremonies." + +It grew late; but the messenger had not returned. The aunt said: "I am +surprised he has not come back with the horse. You had better go there +on foot as quickly as possible and see what has happened. I will come on +later." + +The young man set out on foot for Mrs. Li's house. When he got there he +found the gate firmly bolted, locked and sealed. Astounded, he +questioned the neighbors, who told him that the house had only been let +to Mrs. Li and that, the lease having expired, the landlord had now +resumed possession. The old lady, they said, had gone to live elsewhere. +They did not know her new address. + +At first he thought of hurrying back to Hsuuan-yang and questioning the +aunt; but he found it was too late for him to get there. So he pawned +some of his clothes, and, with the proceeds, bought himself supper and +hired a bed. But he was too angry and distressed to sleep, and did not +once close his eyes from dusk till dawn. Early in the morning he dragged +himself away and went to the "aunt's house." He knocked on the door +repeatedly, but it was breakfast-time and no one answered. At last, when +he had shouted several times at the top of his voice, a footman walked +majestically to the door. The young man nervously mentioned the aunt's +name and asked whether she was at home. The footman replied: "No one of +that name here." "But she lived here yesterday evening," the young man +protested; "why are you trying to deceive me? If she does not live here, +who _does_ the house belong to?" The footman answered: "This is the +residence of His Excellency Mr. Ts`ui. I believe that yesterday some +persons hired a corner of the grounds. I understand that they wished to +entertain a cousin who was coming from a distance. But they were gone +before nightfall." + +The young man, perplexed and puzzled to the point of madness, was +absolutely at a loss what to do next. The best he could think of was to +go to the quarters in Pu-cheng1, where he had installed himself when +he first arrived at Ch`ang-an. The landlord was sympathetic and offered +to feed him. But the young man was too much upset to eat, and having +fasted for three days fell seriously ill. He rapidly grew worse, and the +landlord, fearing he would not recover, had him moved straight to the +undertaker's shop. In a short time the whole of the undertaker's staff +was collected round him, offering sympathy and bringing him food. +Gradually he got better and was able to walk with a stick. + +The undertaker now hired him by the day to hold up the curtains of fine +cloth, by which he earned just enough to support himself. In a few +months he grew quite strong again, but whenever he heard the mourners' +doleful songs, in which they regretted that they could not change places +with the corpse, burst into violent fits of sobbing and shed streams of +tears over which they lost all control, then he used to go home and +imitate their performance. + +Being a man of intelligence, he very soon mastered the art and finally +became the most expert mourner in Ch`ang-an. It happened that there were +two undertakers at this time between whom there was a great rivalry. The +undertaker of the east turned out magnificent hearses and biers, and in +this respect his superiority could not be contested. But the mourners he +provided were somewhat inferior. Hearing of our young man's skill, he +offered him a large sum for his services. The eastern undertaker's +supporters, who were familiar with the repertoire of his company, +secretly taught the young man several fresh tunes and showed him how to +fit the words to them. The lessons went on for several weeks, without +any one being allowed to know of it. At the end of that time the two +undertakers agreed to hold a competitive exhibition of their wares in +T`ien-men1 Street. The loser was to forfeit 50,000 cash to cover the +cost of the refreshments provided. Before the exhibition an agreement +was drawn up and duly signed by witnesses. + +A crowd of several thousand people collected to watch the competition. +The mayor of the quarter got wind of the proceedings and told the chief +of police. The chief of police told the governor of the city. Very soon +all the gentlemen of Ch`ang-an were hurrying to the spot and every house +in the town was empty. The exhibition lasted from dawn till midday. +Coaches, hearses and all kinds of funeral trappings were successively +displayed, but the undertaker of the west could establish no +superiority. Filled with shame, he set up a platform in the south corner +of the square. Presently a man with a long beard came forward, carrying +a hand-bell and attended by several assistants. He wagged his beard, +raised his eyebrows, folded his arms across his chest and bowed. Then, +mounting the platform, he sang the "Dirge of the White Horse." When it +was over, confident of an easy victory, he glared round him, as if to +imply that his opponents had all vanished. He was applauded on every +side and was himself convinced that his talents were a unique product of +the age and could not possibly be called into question. + +After a while the undertaker of the east put together some benches in +the north corner of the square, and a young man in a black hat came +forward, attended by five assistants and carrying a bunch of +hearse-plumes in his hand. It was the young man of our story. + +He adjusted his clothes, looked timidly up and down, and then cleared +his throat and began his tune with an air of great diffidence. + +He sang the dirge "Dew on the Garlic."[3] His voice rose so shrill and +clear that "its echoes shook the forest trees." Before he had finished +the first verse, all who heard were sobbing and hiding their tears. + +[3] See p. 58, "170 Chinese Poems," Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + +When the performance was over, every one made fun of the western +undertaker, and he was so much put out that he immediately removed his +exhibits and retired from the contest. The audience was amazed by the +collapse of the western undertaker and could not imagine where his rival +had procured so remarkable a singer. + +It happened that the Emperor had recently issued an order commanding the +governors of outside provinces to confer with him at the capital at +least once a year. + +At this time the young man's father, who was governor of Ch`ang-chou, +had recently arrived at the capital to make his report. Hearing of the +competition, he and some of his colleagues discarded their official +robes and insignia, and slipped away to join the crowd. With them was an +old servant, who was the husband of the young man's foster-nurse. +Recognizing his foster-son's way of moving and speaking, he was on the +point of accosting him, but not daring to do so, he stood weeping +silently. The father asked him why he was crying, and the servant +replied, "Sir, the young man who is singing reminds me of your lost +son." The father answered: "My son became the prey of robbers, because I +gave him too much money. This cannot be he." So saying, he also began to +weep and, leaving the crowd, returned to his lodging. + +But the old servant went about among the members of the troupe, asking +who it was that had just sung with such skill. They all told him it was +the son of such a one; and when he asked the young man's own name, that +too was unfamiliar, for he was living under an _alias_. The old servant +was so much puzzled that he determined to put the matter to the test for +himself. But when the young man saw his old friend walking towards him, +he winced, turned away his face, and tried to hide in the crowd. The old +man followed him and catching his sleeve, said: "Surely it is you!" Then +they embraced and wept. Presently they went back together to his +father's lodging. But his father abused him, saying: "Your conduct has +disgraced the family. How dare you show your face again?" So saying, he +took him out of the house and led him to the ground between the +Ch`uu-chiang Pond and the Apricot Gardens. Here he stripped him naked and +thrashed him with his horse-whip, till the young man succumbed to the +pain and collapsed. The father then left him and went away. + +But the young man's singing-master had told some of his friends to +watch what happened to him. When they saw him stretched inanimate on the +ground, they came back and told the other members of the troupe. + +The news occasioned universal lamentation, and two men were despatched +with a reed mat to cover up the body. When they got there they found his +heart still warm, and when they had held him in an upright posture for +some time, his breathing recommenced. So they carried him home between +them and administered liquid food through a reed-pipe. Next morning, he +recovered consciousness; but after several months he was still unable to +move his hands and feet. Moreover, the sores left by his thrashing +festered in so disgusting a manner that his friends found him too +troublesome, and one night deposited him in the middle of the road. +However, the passers-by, harrowed by his condition, never failed to +throw him scraps of food. + +So copious was his diet that in three months he recovered sufficiently +to hobble with a stick. Clad in a linen coat,--which was knotted +together in a hundred places, so that it looked as tattered as a quail's +tail,--and carrying a broken saucer in his hand, he now went about the +idle quarters of the town, earning his living as a professional beggar. + +Autumn had now turned to winter. He spent his nights in public +lavatories and his days haunting the markets and booths. + +One day when it was snowing hard, hunger and cold had driven him into +the streets. His beggar's cry was full of woe and all who heard it were +heart-rent. But the snow was so heavy that hardly a house had its outer +door open, and the streets were empty. + +When he reached the eastern gate of An-i, about the seventh or eighth +turning north of the Hsuun-li Wall, there was a house with the +double-doors half open. + +It was the house where Miss Li was then living, but the young man did +not know. + +He stood before the door, wailing loud and long. + +Hunger and cold had given such a piteous accent to his cry that none +could have listened unmoved. + +Miss Li heard it from her room and at once said to her servant, "That is +so-and-so. I know his voice." She flew to the door and was horrified to +see her old lover standing before her so emaciated by hunger and +disfigured by sores that he seemed scarcely human. "Can it be you?" she +said. But the young man was so overcome by bewilderment and excitement +that he could not speak, but only moved his lips noiselessly. + +She threw her arms round his neck, then wrapped him in her own +embroidered jacket and led him to the parlour. Here, with quavering +voice, she reproached herself, saying, "It is my doing that you have +been brought to this pass." And with these words she swooned. + +Her mother came running up in great excitement, asking who had arrived. +Miss Li, recovering herself, said who it was. The old woman cried out in +rage: "Send him away! What did you bring him in here for?" + +But Miss Li looked up at her defiantly and said: "Not so! This is the +son of a noble house. Once he rode in grand coaches and wore golden +trappings on his coat. But when he came to our house, he soon lost all +he had; and then we plotted together and left him destitute. Our conduct +has indeed been inhuman! We have ruined his career and robbed him even +of his place in the category of human relationships. For the love of +father and son is implanted by Heaven; yet we have hardened his +father's heart, so that he beat him with a stick and left him on the +ground. + +"Every one in the land knows that it is I who have reduced him to his +present plight. The Court is full of his kinsmen. Some day one of them +will come into power. Then an inquiry will be set afoot, and disaster +will overtake us. And since we have flouted Heaven and defied the laws +of humanity, neither spirits nor divinities will be on our side. Let us +not wantonly incur a further retribution! + +"I have lived as your daughter for twenty years. Reckoning what I have +cost you in that time, I find it must be close on a thousand pieces of +gold. You are now aged sixty, so that by the price of twenty more years' +food and clothing, I can buy my freedom. I intend to live separately +with this young man. We will not go far away; I shall see to it that we +are near enough to pay our respects to you both morning and evening." + +The "mother" saw that she was not to be gainsaid and fell in with the +arrangement. When she had paid her ransom, Miss Li had a hundred pieces +of gold left over; and with them she hired a vacant room, five doors +away. Here she gave the young man a bath, changed his clothes, fed him +with hot soup to relax his stomach, and later on fattened him up with +cheese and milk. + +In a few weeks she began to place before him all the choicest delicacies +of land and sea; and she clothed him with cap, shoes and stockings of +the finest quality. In a short time he began gradually to put on flesh, +and by the end of the year, he had entirely recovered his former health. + +One day Miss Li said to him: "Now your limbs are stout again and your +will strong! Sometimes, when deeply pondering in silent sorrow, I wonder +to myself how much you remember of your old literary studies?" He +thought and answered: "Of ten parts I remember two or three." + +Miss Li then ordered the carriage to be got ready and the young man +followed her on horseback. When they reached the classical bookshop at +the side-gate south of the Flag tower, she made him choose all the books +he wanted, till she had laid out a hundred pieces of gold. Then she +packed them in the cart and drove home. She now made him dismiss all +other thoughts from his mind and apply himself only to study. All the +evening he toiled at his books, with Miss Li at his side, and they did +not retire till midnight. If ever she found that he was too tired to +work, she made him lay down his classics and write a poem or ode. + +In two years he had thoroughly mastered his subjects and was admired by +all the scholars of the realm. He said to Miss Li, "_Now_, surely, I am +ready for the examiners!" but she would not let him compete and made him +revise all he had learnt, to prepare for the "hundredth battle." At the +end of the third year she said, "Now you may go." He went in for the +examination and passed at the first attempt. His reputation spread +rapidly through the examination rooms and even older men, when they saw +his compositions, were filled with admiration and respect, and sought +his friendship. + +But Miss Li would not let him make friends with them, saying, "Wait a +little longer! Nowadays when a bachelor of arts has passed his +examination, he thinks himself fit to hold the most advantageous posts +at Court and to win a universal reputation. But your unfortunate conduct +and disreputable past put you at a disadvantage beside your +fellow-scholars. You must 'grind, temper and sharpen' your attainments, +that you may secure a second victory. Then you will be able to match +yourself against famous scholars and contend with the illustrious." + +The young man accordingly increased his efforts and enhanced his value. +That year it happened that the Emperor had decreed a special examination +for the selection of candidates of unusual merit from all parts of the +Empire. The young man competed, and came out top in the "censorial +essay." He was offered the post of Army Inspector at Ch`eng1-tu Fu. +The officers who were to escort him were all previous friends. + +When he was about to take up his post, Miss Li said to him, "Now that +you are restored to your proper station in life, I will not be a burden +to you. Let me go back and look after the old lady till she dies. You +must ally yourself with some lady of noble lineage, who will be worthy +to carry the sacrificial dishes in your Ancestral Hall. Do not injure +your prospects by an unequal union. Good-bye, for now I must leave you." + +The young man burst into tears and threatened to kill himself if she +left him, but she obstinately refused to go with him. He begged her +passionately not to desert him, and she at last consented to go with him +across the river as far as Chien-men1.[4] "There," she said, "you must +part with me." The young man consented and in a few weeks they reached +Chien-men1. Before he had started out again, a proclamation arrived +announcing that the young man's father, who had been Governor of +Ch`ang-chou, had been appointed Governor of Ch`eng1-tu and Intendant +of the Chien-nan Circuit. Next morning the father arrived, and the young +man sent in his card and waited upon him at the posting-station. His +father did not recognize him, but the card bore the names of the young +man's father and grandfather, with their ranks and titles. When he read +these, he was astounded, and bidding his son mount the steps he caressed +him and wept. After a while he said: "Now we two are father and son once +more," and bade him tell his story. When he heard of the young man's +adventures, he was amazed. Presently he asked: "And where is Miss Li?" +He replied: "She came with me as far as here, but now she is going back +again." + +[4] The "Sword-gate": commanding the pass which leads into Szechuan from +the north. + +"I cannot allow it," the father said. Next day he ordered a carriage for +his son and sent him on to report himself at Ch`eng1-tu; but he +detained Miss Li at Chien-men1, found her a suitable lodging and +ordered a match-maker to perform the initial ceremonies for uniting the +two families and to accomplish the six rites of welcome. The young man +came back from Ch`eng1-tu and they were duly married. In the years +that followed their marriage, Miss Li showed herself a devoted wife and +competent housekeeper, and was beloved by all her relations. + +Some years later both the young man's parents died, and in his mourning +observances he showed unusual piety. As a mark of divine favour, magic +toadstools grew on the roof of his mourning-hut,[5] each stem bearing +three plants. The report of his virtue reached even the Emperor's ears. +Moreover a number of white swallows nested in the beams of his roof, an +omen which so impressed the Emperor that he raised his rank immediately. + +[5] See "Book or Rites," xxxii, 3. On returning from his father's burial +a son must not enter the house; he should live in an "out-house," +mourning for his father's absence. + +When the three years of mourning were over, he was successively +promoted to various distinguished posts and in the course of ten years +was Governor of several provinces. Miss Li was given the fief of +Chien-kuo, with the title "The Lady of Chien-kuo." + +He had four sons who all held high rank. Even the least successful of +them became Governor of T`ai-yuuan, and his brothers all married into +great families, so that his good fortune both in public and private life +was without parallel. + +How strange that we should find in the conduct of a prostitute a degree +of constancy rarely equalled even by the heroines of history! Surely the +story is one which cannot but provoke a sigh! + +My great-uncle was Governor of Chin-chou; subsequently he joined the +Ministry of Finance and became Inspector of Waterways, and finally +Inspector of Roads. In all these three offices he had Miss Li's husband +as his colleague, so that her story was well known to him in every +particular. During the Cheng1-yuuan period[6] I was sitting one day +with Li Kung-tso[7] of Lung-hai; we fell to talking of wives who had +distinguished themselves by remarkable conduct. I told him the story of +Miss Li. He listened with rapt attention, and when it was over, asked me +to write it down for him. So I took up my brush, wetted the hairs and +made this rough outline of the story. + +[6] A.D. 785-805. + +[7] A writer. + +_[Dated] autumn, eighth month of the year Yi-hai, (A.D. +795), written by Po-Hsing-chien of T`ai-yuuan._ + + + + +WANG CHIEN + +[_c. A.D. 830_] + + + + +[66] HEARING THAT HIS FRIEND WAS COMING BACK FROM THE WAR + + + In old days those who went to fight + In three years had one year's leave. + But in _this_ war the soldiers are never changed; + They must go on fighting till they die on the battle-field. + I thought of you, so weak and indolent, + Hopelessly trying to learn to march and drill. + That a young man should ever come home again + Seemed about as likely as that the sky should fall. + Since I got the news that you were coming back, + Twice I have mounted to the high hall of your home. + I found your brother mending your horse's stall; + I found your mother sewing your new clothes. + I am half afraid; perhaps it is not true; + Yet I never weary of watching for you on the road. + Each day I go out at the City Gate + With a flask of wine, lest you should come thirsty. + Oh that I could shrink the surface of the World, + So that suddenly I might find you standing at my side. + + + + +[67] THE SOUTH + + + In the southern land many birds sing; + Of towns and cities half are unwalled. + The country markets are thronged by wild tribes; + The mountain-villages bear river-names. + Poisonous mists rise from the damp sands; + Strange fires gleam through the night-rain. + And none passes but the lonely fisher of pearls. + Year by year on his way to the South Sea. + + + + +OU-YANG HSIU + +[_b. 1007; d. 1072_] + + + + +[68] AUTUMN + + +Master Ou-yang was reading his books[1] at night when he heard a strange +sound coming from the north-west. He paused and listened intently, +saying to himself: "How strange, how strange!" First there was a +pattering and rustling; but suddenly this broke into a great churning +and crashing, like the noise of waves that wake the traveller at night, +when wind and rain suddenly come; and where they lash the ship, there is +a jangling and clanging as of metal against metal. + +[1] The poem was written in 1052, when Ou-yang was finishing his "New +History of the T`ang Dynasty." + +Or again, like the sound of soldiers going to battle, who march swiftly +with their gags[2] between their teeth, when the captain's voice cannot +be heard, but only the tramp of horses and men moving. + +[2] Pieces of wood put in their mouths to prevent their talking. + +I called to my boy, bidding him go out and see what noise this could be. +The boy said: "The moon and stars are shining; the Milky Way glitters in +the sky. Nowhere is there any noise of men. The noise must be in the +trees." + +"I-hsi! alas!" I said, "this must be the sound of Autumn. Oh, why has +Autumn come? For as to Autumn's form, her colours are mournful and pale. +Mists scatter and clouds withdraw. Her aspect is clean and bright. The +sky is high and the sunlight clear as crystal. Her breath is shivering +and raw, pricking men's skin and bones; her thoughts are desolate, +bringing emptiness and silence to the rivers and hills. And hence it is +that her whisperings are sorrowful and cold, but her shouts are wild and +angry. Pleasant grasses grew soft and green, vying in rankness. Fair +trees knit their shade and gave delight. Autumn swept the grasses and +their colour changed; she met the trees, and their boughs were stripped. +And because Autumn's being is compounded of sternness, therefore it was +that they withered and perished, fell and decayed. For Autumn is an +executioner,[3] and her hour is darkness. She is a warrior, and her +element is metal. Therefore she is called 'the doom-spirit of heaven and +earth';[4] for her thoughts are bent on stern destruction. + +[3] Executions took place in autumn. See _Chou Li_, Book xxxiv (Biot's +translation, tom. ii, p. 286). + +[4] "Book of Rites," I. 656 (Couvreur's edition). + +"In Spring, growth; in Autumn, fruit: that is Heaven's plan. Therefore +in music the note _shang_ is the symbol of the West and _I-tse1_ is +the pitch-pipe of the seventh month. For _shang_ means '_to strike_'; +when things grow old they are stricken by grief. And _I_ means '_to +slay_'; things that have passed their prime must needs be slain. Plants +and trees have no feelings; when their time comes they are blown down. +But man moves and lives and is of creatures most divine. A hundred +griefs assail his heart, ten thousand tasks wear out his limbs, and each +inward stirring shakes the atoms of his soul. And all the more, when he +thinks of things that his strength cannot achieve or grieves at things +his mind cannot understand, is it strange that cheeks that were steeped +in red should grow withered as an old stick, and hair that was black as +ebony should turn as spangled as a starry sky? How should ought else but +what is fashioned of brass or stone strive to outlast the splendour of a +tree? Who but man himself is the slayer of his youth? Why was I angered +at Autumn's voice?" + +The boy made no answer: he was sleeping with lowered head. I could hear +nothing but the insects chirping shrilly on every side as though they +sought to join in my lamentation. + + + + +APPENDIX + + +An essay on Po Chuu-i, whose poems occupy most of this book, will be +found in "170 Chinese Poems." The fullest account of Li Po's life (with +translations) is given in a paper read by me to the China Society, and +published in the _Asiatic Review_, July, 1919. Notices of Ch`uu Yuuan, +Wang Wei, Yuuan Chen1, Wang Chien and Ou-yang Hsiu will be found in +Giles's "Biographical Dictionary." To Wang Chieh Po Chuu-i addressed +several poems. + +Of the 68 pieces in this book, 55 are now translated for the first time. +Of the eight poems by Li Po, all but Number 6 have been translated +before, some of them by several hands. + +Among the poems by Po Chuu-i, three (Nos. 11, 12, and 44) have been +translated by Woitsch[1] and one, (No. 43), very incorrectly, by +Pfizmaier. Another (No. 21) was translated into rhymed verse by Prof. +Giles in "Adversaria Sinica" (1914), p. 323. Ou-yang Hsiu's "Autumn" was +translated by Giles (with great freedom in many places) in his "Chinese +Literature," p. 215. + +[1] Aus den Gedichten Po Chuu-i's. Peking, 1908. + +[Transcriber's Note: The following apparent misprints have been +corrected for this electronic edition: +Patient carrier of towel and comb,[2] + --as printed, cited footnote 1, which is inapplicable and not on page + +"Because you are my cousin, +"Then came the sharing of pillow and mat, +"Now, having 'seen my Prince,' + --as printed, all were missing opening " + +Footnote 3: See p. 58, "170 Chinese Poems," Alfred A. Knopf, 1919. + --as printed, See p, 58, + +with bedclothes under her arm + --as printed, bed-clothes] + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's More Translations from the Chinese, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORE TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CHINESE *** + +***** This file should be named 16500.txt or 16500.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/5/0/16500/ + +Produced by David Starner, Jonathan Niehof and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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