Part 3
Across the river it scurried and whirled, In tangled tufts, by the hurricane hurled, Ascending in gusts till caught by the trees, Or falling in ponds and on furrowed leas.
In great delight the village urchins shout, And say I'm old and cannot run about; And now before my face the rogues begin To steal things, and then run away and grin.
At last I drive them off and hobble back To find my home is shelterless, alack! My lips are parched, my tongue is stiff and dry; My strength is gone, I can but rest and sigh.
The wind has slackened but dark clouds affright, And wintry is the fast approaching night; My bed is worn and hard, my clothing spare, I cannot sleep for pain and anxious care.
The rain still drizzles through the rafters high, 'Tween which I see the drifting stormy sky, And everything is damp and comfortless: What can be done to lighten such distress?
Oh, would there were a mansion of delight, A hundred million rooms both fair and bright, To shelter all the poor beneath the skies, And give the joy which lasting peace supplies.
Could I but see this mansion rise sublime Before my eyes at this, or any time; My house and life to lose I'd be content, Could such great blessing to the world be sent.
_The Lament of the Ladies of the Siang River_[7]
BY YUEN I-SHAN
The rose and orchid deck the fragrant isles, And white clouds fly towards the Northern strand; But though a thousand autumns pass away, Our 'Lord' will not return to mortal's land.
The clouds are drifting to and fro in vain, Across the river blows the autumn breeze, And o'er the water floats a fine, white mist, While moonlight falls on stream and wooded leas.
Upon the lofty 'Kiu-e'[8] mountain range Throughout the night the gibbons wail and call, And from the voiceless boughs of tall bamboos The tears so long retained in dewdrops fall.
[7] According to a Chinese legend the Ladies of the Siang River are Nü-Ying and Ngo-Hwang, the two wives of the Emperor Shun, and this poem describes their lament for his death.
[8] According to another legend the Emperor Shun was buried in the Kiu-i Mountains.
_The Waters of the Mei-Pei_
BY TU FU
T'ANG DYNASTY
Two friends whose love of wonders led them oft To leave the haunts and scenes of every day, Invited me to join them in a voyage Across the waters of the dread Mei-Pei![9]
Where nature in her changeful moods is seen, In grandeur and in terror side by side; Where mighty forces alter heaven and earth, And puny human strength and life deride.
Will countless billows of the wide expanse In ceaseless motion mount and roll afar? Through fluid piles of seeming crystal rocks Will our boat sail beyond the sheltering bar?
Delightful is the venture that we take, And yet dire fears will gather in our throat, The gavial huge may come in search of prey, The monster whales may overturn our boat!
Fierce winds may rise and billows roll and break! But our brave friends unloose the flowing sail, And through the scattering flocks of duck and tern The boat glides on--the white foam in our trail.
The pure and bracing air inflates our lungs-- Afar from towns where dust with cleanness vies; The boatmen chant gay ditties as they work, While sounds of lutes rise to the azure skies.
As fresh as dew on early morning flowers The leaves of water-lilies float around, Upon the surface of the water clear, Through which we peer in vain to find the ground.
Then yielding to the current, broad and strong, Toward the central flood we quickly forge; The waters pure as those of Puh and Hsiai,[10] Yet darkly deep as in the Chong-Nan gorge.[11]
The mountain heights whose base abuts the lake Are mirrored clearly in the southern end; The Great Peace Temple, which in cloudland hangs, Reflects its image in the eastern bend.
The moon has risen, and its silver beams Across the Lan-Tien Pass[12] in beauty glow, While we sit idly on the vessel's side And watch the nodding peaks in depths below.
And as we view the mirage of the heights Which tower in mighty strength above our heads, The swift Li-Long[13] in prodigal display A shower of pearls upon the water spreads.
The Ruler of the Rivers[14] beats his drum, And dragons haste the summons to obey; The Consorts[15] of the ancient king descend, Led by the Maiden of the Star-lit Way.[16]
To branchèd instruments of beaten gold, Adorned with pendants of sapphire and jade, They sing, and dance, midst lights of many hues, Which flash in splendour, then in darkness fade.
In ecstasy we watch the wondrous scene, But awe and joy are mingled in our mind, For now far off we hear the thunder peal, And lowering clouds with lurid lights are lined.
The waters heave with burdensome unrest, The air is full of shadows of the dead; The Spirits of the Universe are near, And we cannot divine their portents dread.
And such is life--an hour of changing scenes Of fitful joy and quickly following grief; An hour of buoyant youth in rapid flight, And then old age to end life--sad and brief!
[9] A vast body of water in some wild and remote part of the Empire, probably in the north-west; but the exact locality is disputed.
[10] The names of two rivers, or the two words combined may mean the clear water of a deep cove or inlet.
[11] A deep gorge in the Chong-nan Mountains in Shen-si.
[12] A famous Pass near Si-ngan, the provincial capital of Shen-si.
[13] A fabulous Dragon whose mythological ancestry and habitat I am unable to trace.
[14] Ping-i, name of the Chinese God of Waters.
[15] Nü-Ying and Ngo-Hwang, daughters of the Emperor Yao, and wives of the Emperor Shun (2288 B.C.?).
[16] The Spinning-Maid. See legend of Cowherd and Spinning-Maid.
_The Swallow's Song_[17]
BY EMPEROR WEN
OF THE WEI DYNASTY (A.D. 220-264)
The autumn winds are blowing, The air is cool and drear, The forest leaves are falling, The grass is scant and sear.
The dew to hoar-frost changes, And swallows southward fly; While from the North in batches The wild swan cloud the sky.
And I such signs discerning Think of you, husband dear, And long for your home-coming From marches long and drear.
Why do you longer tarry In such a distant place? Think of my lonely vigils, Sad thoughts and tear-stained face!
The harp I often finger, And try to sing a song; But soon I sigh and falter, And for your coming long.
The Moon's pure light is shining Upon my lonely bed; The 'Star-Stream's'[18] westward flowing, The night is not far sped.
The Cowherd and the Spinning-Girl[19] Lament the doom that bars The meeting of true lovers, Across the Stream of Stars.
What folly did they ponder To meet so dire a fate? I wonder if we also Are doomed to trial as great!
[17] In this poem the thoughts of a woman, whose husband is engaged in the wars beyond the frontier, are described by the poet.
[18] The Milky Way.
[19] K'ien-Niu (Cowherd) and Chih-Nü (Spinning-Girl) are the names of two stars and, according to a Chinese legend, these two stars are lovers doomed to gaze at each other across the wide 'River of Stars'; i.e. the Milky Way, but never meet. According to one version of the legend, however, the lovers are allowed to meet once a year, on the seventh night of the Seventh Month, when birds form a bridge over the 'River of Stars' to enable the Spinning-Girl to meet her lover.
_Farewell to a Comrade_
BY CHEN KIA-CHOW
T'ANG DYNASTY
Cold gusts from Arctic regions sweep the ground, And snowflakes countless fly through the wintry sky, Covering with spotless robe the earth around, While snow flowers frail on twigs and branches lie.
As when a genial breeze in early Spring Shakes open all the pear-trees' blossoms white, And sombre-looking trees with leafless boughs Are decked with radiance in a single night.
Through crevices and slits in bamboo blinds, Which shield the entrance to our hempen tent, Snow-whirls and keen winds blow and chill the blood, In spite of furs and wadded garments blent.
Cold so intense is felt by all alike-- The General cannot stretch his horn-tipped bow, In coats of mail the Captains stiffly move, While soldiers growl or mutter curses low.
Far off the desert stretches as a sea, In frozen ridges like to driven clouds, Alas, the multitudes of warriors brave The pathless waste of cruel sand enshrouds!
But now our happy comrade homeward turns, We'll drink his health to sound of viol and flute, And see him safely on his journey start; Another cup, and then the old salute!
Falls thick the snow around the fortress walls, The red flag frozen stirs not in the air, As forth we ride from out the Eastern gate,-- In jostling groups, or quietly pair by pair.
Nearing the Tien-shan[20] road we draw in rein, To bid our comrade there a last farewell, And watch him upward climb the mountain path To peaks that touch the clouds where genii dwell.[21]
But soon the winding path conceals from view The fading horsemen as they upward wend; All we now see are footprints in the snow, As 'ih-lu fuh-sing'[22] we towards them send.
[20] The Tien Mountains; in many books of geography erroneously described as Tien-Shan Mountains.
[21] According to Chinese mythology, the top of the Tien Mountains touch heaven and are the abode of the genii.
[22] May the Star of Happiness accompany you to the end of the journey.
_Beauty's Fatal Snare_[23]
BY LI HAN-LIN
T'ANG DYNASTY
The ravens roost upon the towers of Su, While revels reign within the Court of Wu; The rustic Si-Shi with her peerless face, Her slender form, her witching smile and grace.
Inflamed by wine, she now begins to sing The songs of Wu to please the fatuous king; And in the dance of Tsu she subtly blends All rhythmic movements to her sensuous ends.
Si-Shi o'er Wu her spell has surely cast, The King of Yüeh has snared his foe at last; With wine, and song, and dance, the hours fly by: The water-clock[24] has dripped till almost dry.
Behind the hills appears the flush of dawn, Beyond the river sinks the moon forlorn; And now the sun climbs up the towers of Su; What of the revellers in the Halls of Wu!
[23] The Prince of Yüeh wishing to ruin his rival, the Prince of Wu, presented to him a very beautiful girl, named Si-Shi, who had been taught all feminine accomplishments. Fu-Ch'a, the Prince of Wu, fell into the snare, and besotted by dissolute pleasures, became an easy victim to the Prince of Yüeh who annexed the State of Wu to his own dominions. After his defeat Fu-Ch'a committed suicide.
[24] Time was measured by the clepsydra, and the expression indicates that the night was far spent and dawn near.
_A Reverie in a Summer-house_
BY MENG HAO-RAN
T'ANG DYNASTY (A.D. 618-905)
The daylight fades behind the Western Mountains, And in the east is seen the rising moon, Which faintly mirrored in the garden fountains Foretells that night and dreams are coming soon.
With window open--hair unloosed and flowing,[25] I lie in restful ease upon my bed; The evening breeze across the lilies blowing With fragrant coolness falls upon my head.
And in the solemn stillness--all-prevailing, The fall of dewdrops from the tall bamboos-- Which grow in graceful rows along the railing-- Sounds through the silence soft as dove's faint coos.
On such an eve as this I would be singing, And playing plaintive tunes upon the lute, And thus to mind old friends and pleasures bringing; But none are here to join with harp and flute!
So in a pleasant stillness I lie dreaming Of bygone days and trusty friends of old, Among whom Sin-tze's[26] happy face is beaming; I would my thoughts could now to him be told.
[25] In ancient times the hair was worn long and knotted on the top of the head.
[26] The name of a genial companion of earlier days.
_The Flower-Seller_[27]
BY TSING-NIEN
TSING DYNASTY
The sun is sinking in the sky, It scarcely reaches a flagstaff high; And now the pretty flower-girl dares Come out to sell her fragile wares. Her voice rings out a message sweet, As on she trips with lightsome feet, To buy her musk and jessamine, Her violets and white eglantine. And the fresh perfumes of her flowers, After last night's refreshing showers, Borne on the gentle breeze soon find An entrance through my lattice blind. The windows of the rich and great Are opened wide, and heads, ornate With glossy hair and jewels bright, Are thrust forth in the evening light Of the setting sun, whose shadow falls On the straight lines of brick-built walls, By which men marked the time of day[28] Ere clocks and watches came their way. And many flowers of beauteous hue, Still sparkling with the morning dew, Are bought by ladies rich and fair, To deck their deep black lustrous hair.
[27] A modern poem composed by a successful student at a Government Examination.
[28] Formerly the time of day was roughly ascertained by such means.
_The Red-Flower Pear-Tree_
BY EO YANG SIU
SONG DYNASTY
Posted to a distant mountain region, The old Lang-Kwan,[29] grown grey in honest work, Oft wandered through the valleys rough and dreary In search of treasures which might therein lurk.
One day, growing in a sheltered corner, He found a red-flowered pear-tree in full bloom, And before it stood transfixed with wonder, As when a dazzling brightness shines through gloom.
Wondering how so fair a plant could flourish Away from genial clime and native earth, Circled by a thousand mist-clad mountains, And far from fragrant trees of kindred birth.
High its beauty-laden branches rising Above the gaudy brambles trailing there, Standing lonely in its perfect grandeur, With none, alas! to view the picture rare.
Save the vernal breeze which strips its blossoms And blows them open, year by year, again; Or the feathered tribes of mountain ranges In search of shelter from the mist or rain.
Showing it has braved the storms for ages, Its roots are curved and knotted with the fight; Yet the Lang-Kwan is the first of mankind To look with pleasure on so fair a sight.
Drinking in the wealth of dewy fragrance, He walked around the tree for many hours, But held by reverential love and wonder, He durst not raise a hand to pluck the flowers.
To himself the old man murmured gently, I wish I could remove the tree from here To grace the garden of the King's demesne, And find a royal consort for its peer.
Such a task, alas! would be much harder Than the long and toilsome journey of Chang-K`an,[30] When he brought the beautiful pomegranate From Western regions to the Land of Han.
[29] A District Magistrate in ancient times.
[30] Chang-K`an, or Chang-K`ien, a Minister of the Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty. In this poem it is said that he brought the pomegranate to China, but other writers say the grape-vine.
_A Song of Princess Tze-Yuh_[31]
BY HAN-CHONG
(ANCIENT)
As Southern birds avoid a Northern snare, My kin avoid alliances with thine; And though my love for thee would greatly dare, I know our clans the marriage would decline.
I would have followed thee, but evil talk Besmirched our names and sent us far apart; But why the world its love of slander balk? 'Tis evil fate that has despoiled my heart!
I wept for thee and mourned for three long years, As mourns the phoenix when her consort's dead; And then death came and ended grief and tears; For after thee no other could I wed.
And now you stand before my grave and grieve, My wraith's permitted for a moment's space, The confines of the Spirit land to leave And visit earth to see thee face to face.
And, oh believe, though quick we part once more, And in the body cannot meet and love, Our souls are one till life and time are o'er, And we united in the realms above.
[31] Tze-Yuh, daughter of Fu-Chai, Prince of the Wu State, and Han-Chong loved each other and wished to marry, but political feuds prevented their union. Thereupon Han-Chong travelled abroad, and Tze-Yuh, after three years of fruitless mourning, died of grief. When Han-Chong returned and visited Tze-Yuh's grave to mourn there, he had a vision of her beautiful face, which inspired him to compose this song.
_Distaste for Official Life_
BY TAO TSIEN
T'SIN DYNASTY
For thirty years I read, and mused, and wrote, Or idly angled from my fishing-boat; Or wandered through the woods, or climbed the hills, Listening to songsters and to murmuring rills;
Or sauntering in my garden talked with flowers, As friend with friend, for many happy hours; Or working in my fields ablaze with golden grain, And herbs and fruits which keep life clean and sane.
Far from the busy mart and huckstering crowd, Striving for gold or place with brawlings loud,-- From youth to middle age I've passed my days Midst flowers and fields hearing what Nature says.
And now, alas! I'm on this boat and bound For far King-chow, with rank and office crowned; To village home and friends I've bid farewell, And of life's peace, I fear, I've tolled the knell.
From off the shore a pleasant breeze now blows, And on and on the placid river flows; While the pale shining of the Queen of Night Floods the great universe with silvery light.
I cannot sleep, the future weights my mind, The calls of office--cares of every kind Oppress me with a sense of coming woes-- A forlorn hope against unnumbered foes!
I fain would tune my harp and ballads sing, Some comfort to my sinking heart to bring; But such poor solace even is denied-- My hands are nerveless and my tongue is tied.
How can I leave my former happy life To mingle in ambition's worldly strife! What care I for the spoils of rank and power, The petty triumphs of the passing hour!
My office I'll resign and homeward turn To till my farm beside the rippling burn, Where I in happy freedom may once more The Muses and the Book of Nature pore.
There in my rustic lodge in leisure time, I'll cherish every thought and scene sublime, And following still the teachers of my youth A name I'll build upon eternal truth.
_The Fragrant Tree_
BY WEI YING-WUH
T'ANG DYNASTY
In a far-off fragrant garden Grows a tree of beauty rare, Whose reflection on the brooklet Makes a vision fair.
But when now I see this vision, Heart and mind are wrung with grief, Mourning hours of blissful meeting-- Every hour too brief.
Rich as ever is the foliage, Opal clouds the shimmering boughs, And the dewy leaves still glisten While the sun allows.
But, alas, Her presence lacking, What are all such things to me! She will never more be plucking Blossoms from this tree.
Here beside the brook are traces Of her light and gladsome feet; But again we two shall never In this garden meet.
_A Song of the Snow_
BY LUH FANG-WENG
Three days it snowed on Chang-an[32] plain, With drifts the Pass[33] was stacked; The iron cows[34] could not be moved, The dew-pans[35] froze and cracked.
A traveller of handsome mien, And clad in white foxskin, With curled moustache and strong of limb, Came to the Pao-chan[36] inn.
At night he supped and drank full well Until he soundly slept; But in the early dawn he woke And on his strong horse leapt.
Then riding through the drifts of snow He reached the South Range bare, And hunted for a tiger fierce Which long had 'scaped the snare.
And when the crafty beast was met, An arrow from his bow Transfixed its bounding body huge, And reddened deep the snow.
With dying strength it beat the air, And uttered piercing yells, Which shook the hills and forest trees, And echoed through the dells.
The carcase then he draggèd back Along a crowded course; The bones a pillow frame supplied, The skin adorned his horse.
But when confusion fills the land, And peace is under ban, Why don't such men of might come forth To help the King of Han!
[32] Now Si-ngan, the provincial capital of Shen-si, but in the Han Dynasty the capital of China.
[33] A very important mountain pass near Si-ngan.
[34] Vessels used in the conservancy of the Yellow River.
[35] Pans to hold dew, which was collected to provide the Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty with bathing-and drinking-water and thus promote longevity.
[36] 'The Precious Hairpin,' merely the sign of the inn.
_The Old Temple among the Mountains_
BY CHANG WEN-CHANG
T'ANG DYNASTY (618-905 B.C.)
The temple courts with grasses rank abound, And birds throng in the forest trees around; But pilgrims few, though tablets still remain, Come to the shrine while revolutions reign.
The mice climb through the curtains--full of holes, And thick dust overspreads the broidered stoles; The temple pool in gloomy blackness lies To which the sleeping dragon[37] sometimes hies.
[37] The meaning of this expression is not clear; it has a political signification.
_A Soldier's Farewell to his Wife_
BY SU-WU[38]
HAN DYNASTY, OR EARLIER
My dear wife, you and I have been as one, No doubt has marred the faith, which love has won, Our chief desire throughout the married state Has been of love and joy to give and take.
But now, alas! the joy of Spring departs, And sorrow's shafts must enter both our hearts; I cannot sleep; I must arise and see The time; ah me, how quick the hours do flee!
Awake, my dearest, for the stars have set, The grief of parting must be bravely met; And yet the dreary marches weight my mind,-- As through defiles and desert plains they wind.
And then, at last, the awful battle-field, Where I must fight and naught to foemen yield; But, oh! the bitter, paralysing pain-- To think that we may never meet again!
I must let fall the long restrainèd tears As, clasping hands, you calm my anxious fears; If not, my heart will break with sighs repressed To hear your love so tenderly confessed.
But courage, we will think of Young Love's day, And all the pleasures which therein did stay; And this shall cheer me on the toilsome road, And help you here to bear your weary load.
Then with what joy we shall renew our life, When I return safe from the dreadful strife; But if, alas! the Fates should death decree, My spirit shall for ever live with thee.
[38] Chinese commentators regard this poem as Su's farewell to his own wife, written when he was sent on an expedition to the land of the Hsiung-nu, where he was captured and kept in captivity for many years.
_The Wanderer's Return_
BY TU FU
T'ANG DYNASTY
The setting sun beneath the red-lined clouds, Which mass around the foot-hills in the west, Still floods the valley with a rose-hued light, And lures the chirping birds to seek their rest.