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[_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 c.u.mbrous was.h.i.+ng 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 Yu[1] swallowed his sulphur pills, Yet a single illness carried him straight to the grave.
Yuan Chen 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 pa.s.sed.
Only I, who have never dieted myself Have thus protracted a tedious span of age, I who in young days Yielded lightly to every l.u.s.t and greed; Whose palate craved only for the richest meat And knew nothing of bis.m.u.th 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 Yu-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."
