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More Translations from the Chinese Part 6

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[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 suns.h.i.+ne, 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'ENG 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 Hsun-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_]

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