Part 1

FIR-FLOWER TABLETS

POEMS FROM THE CHINESE

FIR-FLOWER TABLETS

_Poems translated from the Chinese by_

FLORENCE AYSCOUGH

_Hon. Mem. North China Branch, Royal Asiatic Society_

ENGLISH VERSIONS

BY

AMY LOWELL

BOSTON AND NEW YORK

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

_The Riverside Press, Cambridge_

1921

COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY FLORENCE AYSCOUGH AND AMY LOWELL. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

PREFACE

BY AMY LOWELL

Let me state at the outset that I know no Chinese. My duty in Mrs. Ayscough's and my joint collaboration has been to turn her literal translations into poems as near to the spirit of the originals as it was in my power to do. It has been a long and arduous task, but one which has amply repaid every hour spent upon it. To be suddenly introduced to a new and magnificent literature, not through the medium of the usual more or less accurate translation, but directly, as one might burrow it out for one's self with the aid of a dictionary, is an exciting and inspiring thing. The method we adopted made this possible, as I shall attempt to show. The study of Chinese is so difficult that it is a life-work in itself, so is the study of poetry. A sinologue has no time to learn how to write poetry; a poet has no time to learn how to read Chinese. Since neither of us pretended to any knowledge of the other's craft, our association has been a continually augmenting pleasure.

I was lucky indeed to approach Chinese poetry through such a medium. The translations I had previously read had given me nothing. Mrs. Ayscough has been to me the pathway to a new world. No one could be a more sympathetic go-between for a poet and his translator, and Mrs. Ayscough was well-fitted for her task. She was born in Shanghai. Her father, who was engaged in business there, was a Canadian and her mother an American. She lived in China until she was eleven, when her parents returned to America in order that their children might finish their education in this country. It was then that I met her, so that our friendship is no new thing, but has persisted, in spite of distance, for more than thirty years, to ripen in the end into a partnership which is its culmination. Returning to China in her early twenties, she became engaged to an Englishman connected with a large British importing house in Shanghai, and on her marriage, which took place almost immediately, went back to China, where she has lived ever since. A diligent student of Chinese life and manners, she soon took up the difficult study of literary Chinese, and also accepted the position of honorary librarian of the library of the North China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. Of late years, she has delivered a number of lectures on Chinese subjects in China, Japan, America, and Canada, and has also found time to write various pamphlets on Chinese literature and customs.

In the Autumn of 1917, Mrs. Ayscough arrived in America on one of her periodic visits to this country. She brought with her a large collection of Chinese paintings for exhibition, and among these paintings were a number of examples of the "Written Pictures." Of these, she had made some rough translations which she intended to use to illustrate her lectures. She brought them to me with a request that I put them into poetic shape. I was fascinated by the poems, and, as we talked them over, we realized that here was a field in which we should like to work. When she returned to China, it was agreed that we should make a volume of translations from the classic Chinese writers. Such translations were in the line of her usual work, and I was anxious to read the Chinese poets as nearly in the original as it was possible for me to do. At first, we hardly considered publication. Mrs. Ayscough lives in Shanghai and I in Boston, and the war-time mails were anything but expeditious, but an enthusiastic publisher kept constantly before us our ultimate, if remote, goal. Four years have passed, and after many unavoidable delays the book is finished. We have not done it all by correspondence. Mrs. Ayscough has come back to America several times during its preparation; but, whether together or apart, the plan on which we have worked has always been the same.

Very early in our studies, we realized that the component parts of the Chinese written character counted for more in the composition of poetry than has generally been recognized; that the poet chose one character rather than another which meant practically the same thing, because of the descriptive allusion in the make-up of that particular character; that the poem was enriched precisely through this undercurrent of meaning in the structure of its characters. But not always--and here was the difficulty. Usually the character must be taken merely as the word it had been created to mean. It was a nice distinction, when to allow one's self the use of these character undercurrents, and when to leave them out of count entirely. But I would not have my readers suppose that I have changed or exaggerated the Chinese text. Such has not been the case. The analysis of characters has been employed very rarely, and only when the text seemed to lean on the allusion for an added vividness or zest. In only one case in the book have I permitted myself to use an adjective not inherent in the character with which I was dealing--and, in that case, the connotation was in the word itself, being descriptive of an architectural structure for which we have no equivalent--except in the "Written Pictures," where, as Mrs. Ayscough has stated in her Introduction, we allowed ourselves a somewhat freer treatment.

It has been necessary, of course, to acquire some knowledge of the laws of Chinese versification. But, equally of course, these rules could only serve to bring me into closer relations with the poems and the technical limits of the various forms. It was totally impossible to follow either the rhythms or the rhyme-schemes of the originals. All that could be done was to let the English words fall into their natural rhythm and not attempt to handicap the exact word by introducing rhyme at all. This is the method I followed in my translations of French poems in my book, "Six French Poets." I hold that it is more important to reproduce the perfume of a poem than its metrical form, and no translation can possibly reproduce both.

Our plan of procedure was as follows: Mrs. Ayscough would first write out the poem in Chinese. Not in the Chinese characters, of course, but in transliteration. Opposite every word she put the various meanings of it which accorded with its place in the text, since I could not use a Chinese dictionary. She also gave the analyses of whatever characters seemed to her to require it. The lines were carefully indicated, and to these lines I have, as a rule, strictly adhered; the lines of the translations usually corresponding, therefore, with the lines of the originals. In the few poems in which the ordering of the lines has been changed, this has been done solely in the interest of cadence.

I had, in fact, four different means of approach to a poem. The Chinese text, for rhyme-scheme and rhythm; the dictionary meanings of the words; the analyses of characters; and, for the fourth, a careful paraphrase by Mrs. Ayscough, to which she added copious notes to acquaint me with all the allusions, historical, mythological, geographical, and technical, that she deemed it necessary for me to know. Having done what I could with these materials, I sent the result to her, when she and her Chinese teacher carefully compared it with the original, and it was returned to me, either passed or commented upon, as the case might be. Some poems crossed continent and ocean many times in their course toward completion; others, more fortunate, satisfied at once. On Mrs. Ayscough's return to America this year, all the poems were submitted to a farther meticulous scrutiny, and I can only say that they are as near the originals as we could make them, and I hope they may give one quarter of the pleasure to our readers that they have to us in preparing them.

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION xix

LI T'AI-PO. (A.D. 701-762)

Songs of the Marches 1

Battle to the South of the City 5

The Perils of the Shu Road 6

Looking at the Moon After Rain 9

The Lonely Wife 10

The Pleasures Within the Palace 12

The Young Girls of Yüeh 13

Written in the Character of a Beautiful Woman 14

Songs to the Peonies 16

Spring Grief and Resentment 18

The Palace Woman and the Dragon Robes 19

The Nanking Wine-Shop 20

Fêng Huang T'ai 21

The Northern Flight 22

Fighting to the South of the City 24

The Crosswise River 26

On Hearing the Buddhist Priest Play his Table-Lute 27

Ch'ang Kan 28

Sorrow During a Clear Autumn 30

Poignant Grief During a Sunny Spring 32

Two Poems Written to Ts'ui (the Official) 34

Sent as a Parting Gift to the Second Official 35

The Song of the White Clouds 36

Wind-Bound at the New Forest Reach 37

At the Ancestral Shrine of King Yao 38

Drinking Alone in the Moonlight. I 39

Drinking Alone in the Moonlight. II 40

Statement of Resolutions After Being Drunk 41

River Chant 42

Separated by Imperial Summons 44

A Woman Sings 46

The Palace Woman and the Soldiers' Cook 47

The Sorrel Horse 48

A Beautiful Woman Encountered on a Field-Path 49

Saying Good-Bye to a Friend 50

Descending the Extreme South Mountain 51

The Terraced Road 52

Hearing a Bamboo Flute in the City of Lo Yang 54

The Retreat of Hsieh Kung 55

A Traveller Comes to the Old Terrace of Su 56

The Rest-House on the Clear Wan River 57

Drinking Song 58

Answer to an Affectionate Invitation 60

Parrot Island 61

The Honourable Lady Chao 62

Thinking of the Frontier 63

A Song of Resentment 64

Picking Willow 66

Autumn River Song 67

Visiting the Taoist Priest 68

Reply to an Unrefined Person 69

Reciting Verses by Moonlight 70

Passing the Night at the White Heron Island 71

Ascending the Three Chasms 72

Parting from Yang, a Hill Man 73

Night Thoughts 74

The Serpent Mound 75

Old Tai's Wine-Shop 76

Drinking in the T'ao Pavilion 77

Song for the Hour When the Crows Roost 78

Poem Sent to the Official Wang 79

Drinking Alone on the Rock in the River 80

A Farewell Banquet 81

Taking Leave of Tu Fu 82

The Moon Over the Mountain Pass 83

The Taking-Up of Arms 84

A Song of the Rest-House of Deep Trouble 85

The "Looking-For-Husband" Rock 86

After Being Separated for a Long Time 87

Bitter Jealousy in the Palace of the High Gate 88

Eternally Thinking of Each Other 89

Passionate Grief 91

Sung to the Air: "The Mantzŭ like an Idol" 92

At the Yellow Crane Tower. 93

In Deep Thought, Gazing at the Moon 94

Thoughts from a Thousand Li 95

Word-Pattern 96

The Heaven's Gate Mountains 97

On Hearing that Wang Ch'ang-ling Had Been Exiled 98

Parting Gift to Wang Lun 99

Saying Good-Bye to a Friend Going to the Plum-Flower Lake 100

A Poem Sent to Tu Fu 101

Bidding Good-Bye to Yin Shu 102

TU FU. (A.D. 712-770)

A Visit to the Fêng Hsien Temple 103

The Thatched House Unroofed by an Autumn Gale 104

The River Village 106

The Excursion 107

The Recruiting Officers 109

Crossing the Frontier. I 111

Crossing the Frontier. II 112

The Sorceress Gorge 113

Thinking of Li Po on a Spring Day 114

At the Edge of Heaven 115

Sent to Li Po as a Gift 116

A Toast for Mêng Yün-ch'ing 117

Moon Night 118

PO CHÜ-I (A.D. 772-846)

Hearing the Early Oriole 119

LIU YÜ-HSI (_Circa_ A.D. 844)

The City of Stones 120

NIU HSI-CHI. (_Circa_ A.D. 733)

Sung to the Tune of "The Unripe Hawthorn Berry" 121

WANG WEI. (A.D. 699-759)

After an Imperial Audience 122

The Blue-Green Stream 123

Farm House on the Wei Stream 124

CH'IU WEI. (_Circa_ A.D. 700)

Seeking for the Hermit of the West Hill 125

CHI WU-CH'IEN. (Circa A.D. 733)

Floating on the Pool of Jo Ya 126

MÊNG CHIAO. (_Circa_ A.D. 790)

Sung to the Air: "The Wanderer" 127

WEI YING-WU. (_Circa_ A.D. 850)

Farewell Words to the Daughter of Yang 128

WÊN T'ING-YÜN. (_Circa_ A.D. 850)

Sung to the Air: "Looking South" 130

DESCENDANT OF FOUNDER SOUTHERN T'ANG DYNASTY. (_Circa_ A.D. 960)

Together We Know Happiness 131

T'AO YÜAN-MING. (A.D. 365-427)

Once More Fields and Gardens 132

ANONYMOUS. LIANG DYNASTY (A.D. 502-557) Song of the Snapped Willow 134

AUTHORSHIP UNCERTAIN. CHOU DYNASTY. REIGN OF KING HSÜAN. (826-781 B.C.) The Cloudy River 135

EMPEROR WU OF HAN. (156-87 B.C.) To the Air: "The Fallen Leaves" 139

EMPEROR CHAO OF HAN. (94-73 B.C.) Early Autumn at the Pool of Sprinkling Water 140

EMPEROR LING OF LATER HAN. (A.D. 156-189) Proclaiming the Joy of Certain Hours 141

PAN CHIEH-YÜ. (_Circa_ 32 B.C.) Song of Grief 142

CHIANG TS'AI-P'IN. (_Circa_ A.D. 750) Letter of Thanks for Precious Pearls 143

YANG KUEI-FEI. (_Circa_ A.D. 750) Dancing 144

LIANG DYNASTY. (A.D. 502-557) Songs of the Courtesans 145

MOTHER OF THE LORD OF SUNG. (_Circa_ 600 B.C.) The Great Ho River 147

WRITTEN PICTURES

An Evening Meeting 151 The Emperor's Return 152 Portrait of Beautiful Concubine 153 Calligraphy 154 The Palace Blossoms 155 One Goes a Journey 156 From the Straw Hut Among the Seven Peaks 157 On the Classic of the Hills and Sea 159 The Hermit 160 After How Many Years 161 The Inn at the Mountain Pass 164 Li T'ai-po Meditates 165 Pair of Scrolls 166 Two Panels 167 The Return 168 Evening Calm 169 Fishing Picture 170 Spring. Summer. Autumn 171

NOTES. 173

KEY TO PLAN OF CHINESE HOUSE 223

TABLE OF CHINESE HISTORICAL PERIODS 227

Thanks are due to the editors of _The North American Review_, _The Bookman_, _The Dial_, _The New York Evening Post_, _Poetry_, and _Asia_, for permission to reprint poems which have already appeared in their magazines.

ILLUSTRATIONS

MAP _Frontispiece_

FACSIMILE OF "HANGING-ON-THE-WALL POEM" _To face p. 170_

PLAN OF CHINESE HOUSE _To face p. 223_

INTRODUCTION

BY FLORENCE AYSCOUGH

There has probably never been a people in whose life poetry has played such a large part as it has done, and does, among the Chinese. The unbroken continuity of their history, throughout the whole of which records have been carefully kept, has resulted in the accumulation of a vast amount of material; and this material, literary as well as historical, remains available to-day for any one who wishes to study that branch of art which is the most faithful index to the thoughts and feelings of the "black-haired race," and which, besides, constitutes one of the finest literatures produced by any race the world has known.

To the confusion of the foreigner, however, Chinese poetry is so made up of suggestion and allusion that, without a knowledge of the backgrounds (I use the plural advisedly) from which it sprang, much of its meaning and not a little of its beauty is necessarily lost. Mr. Arthur Waley, in the preface to his "A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems," says: "Classical allusion, always the vice of Chinese poetry, finally destroyed it altogether." Granting the unhappy truth of this statement, the poetry of China is nevertheless so human and appealing as to speak with great force even to us who live under such totally different conditions; it seems worth while, therefore, to acquire a minimum of knowledge in regard to it and so increase the enjoyment to be derived from it. In the present collection, I have purposely included only those poems in which this national vice is less in evidence; and this was not a difficult task. There is such an enormous body of Chinese poetry that the difficulty has been, not what to take, but what to leave out. I have been guided somewhat by existing translations, not wishing to duplicate what has already been adequately done, when so much still remains untouched. Not that all these poems appear in English for the first time, but many of them do; and, except for Mr. Waley's admirable work, English renderings have usually failed to convey the flavour of the originals.

Chinese scholars rank their principal poets in the following order: Tu Fu, Li T'ai-po, and Po Chü-i. Realizing that, naturally, in any literature, it is the great poets which another nation wishes to read, I have purposely kept chiefly to them, and among them to Li T'ai-po, since his poems are of a universal lyricism. Also, Mr. Waley has devoted his energies largely to Po Chü-i. Tu Fu is very difficult to translate, and probably for that reason his work is seldom given in English collections of Chinese poems. Some of his simpler poems are included here, however. A small section of the book is devoted to what the Chinese call "written-on-the-wall-pictures." I shall come back to these later.

The great stumbling-block which confronts the translator at the outset is that the words he would naturally use often bring before the mind of the Occidental reader an entirely different scene to that actually described by the Oriental poet. The topography, the architecture, the fauna and flora, to say nothing of the social customs, are all alien to such a reader's own surroundings and cannot easily be visualized by him. Let me illustrate with a modern poem, for it is a curious fact that there has lately sprung up in America and England a type of poetry which is so closely allied to the Chinese in method and intention as to be very striking. This is the more remarkable since, at the time of its first appearance, there were practically no translations of Chinese poems which gave, except in a remote degree, the feeling of the originals. So exact, in fact, is this attitude toward the art of poetry among the particular group of poets to whom I have reference and the Chinese masters, that I have an almost perfect illustration of the complications of rendering which a translator runs up against by imagining this little poem of Miss Lowell's being suddenly presented to a Chinese scholar in his grass hut among the Seven Peaks:

NOSTALGIA

BY AMY LOWELL

"Through pleasures and palaces"-- Through hotels, and Pullman cars, and steamships...

Pink and white camellias floating in a crystal bowl, The sharp smell of firewood, The scrape and rustle of a dog stretching himself on a hardwood floor, And your voice, reading--reading-- to the slow ticking of an old brass clock...

"Tickets, please!" And I watch the man in front of me Fumbling in fourteen pockets, While the conductor balances his ticket-punch Between his fingers.