More Translations from the Chinese - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
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 Chu-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 s.h.i.+nes 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 spa.r.s.e 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
