A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[34] The Record Office.
THE SCHOLAR RECRUIT
By Pao Chao (died A.D. 466)
Now late I follow Time's Necessity:[35]
Mounting a barricade I pacify remote tribes.
Discarding my sash I don a coat of rhinoceros-skin: Rolling up my skirts I shoulder a black bow.
Even at the very start my strength fails: What will become of me before it's all over?
[35] _I.e._, "enlist."
THE RED HILLS
By Pao Chao
Red hills lie athwart us as a menace in the west, And fiery mountains glare terrible in the south.
The body burns, the head aches and throbs: If a bird light here, its soul forthwith departs.
Warm springs Pour from cloudy pools And hot smoke issues between the rocks.
The sun and moon are perpetually obscured: The rain and dew never stay dry.
There are red serpents a hundred feet long, And black snakes ten girths round.
The sand-spitters shoot their poison at the sunbeams: The flying insects are ill with the s.h.i.+fting glare.
The hungry monkeys dare not come down to eat: The morning birds dare not set out to fly.
At the Ching river many die of poison: Crossing the Lu one is lucky if one is only ill.
Our living feet walk on dead ground: Our high wills surmount the snares of Fate.
The Spear-boat General[36] got but little honour: The Wave-subduer[37] met with scant reward.
If our Prince still grudges the things that are easy to give,[38]
Can he hope that his soldiers will give what is hardest to give?[39]
[36] Hou Yen (first century B.C.).
[37] Ma Yuan (first century A.D.).
[38] Rewards and t.i.tles.
[39] Life.
DREAMING OF A DEAD LADY
"I heard at night your long sighs And knew that you were thinking of me."
As she spoke, the doors of Heaven opened And our souls conversed and I saw her face.
She set me a pillow to rest on And she brought me meat and drink.
I stood beside her where she lay, But suddenly woke and she was not there: And none knew how my soul was torn, How the tears fell surging over my breast.
THE LIBERATOR
A POLITICAL ALLEGORY
By Wu-ti, emperor of the Liang dynasty (A.D. 464-549)
In the high trees--many doleful winds: The ocean waters--lashed into waves.
If the sharp sword be not in your hand, How can you hope your friends will remain many?
Do you not see that sparrow on the fence?
Seeing the hawk it casts itself into the snare.
The fowler to catch the sparrow is delighted: The Young Man to see the sparrow is grieved.
He takes his sword and cuts through the netting: The yellow sparrow flies away, away.
Away, away, up to the blue sky And down again to thank the Young Man.
LO-YANG
By the Emperor Ch'ien Wen-ti (sixth century)
A beautiful place is the town of Lo-yang: The big streets are full of spring light.
The lads go driving out with harps in their hands: The mulberry girls go out to the fields with their baskets.
Golden whips glint at the horses' flanks.
Gauze sleeves brush the green boughs.
Racing dawn, the carriages come home,-- And the girls with their high baskets full of fruit.
WINTER NIGHT
My bed is so empty that I keep on waking up: As the cold increases, the night-wind begins to blow.
It rustles the curtains, making a noise like the sea: Oh that those were waves which could carry me back to you!
THE REJECTED WIFE
By Yuan-ti (508-554). See page 15.
Entering the Hall, she meets the new wife: Leaving the gate, she runs into her former husband.
Words stick: she does not manage to say anything: She presses her hands together and hesitates.
Agitates moon-like fan--sheds pearl-like tears-- Realizes she loves him just as much as ever: That her present pain will never come to an end.
PEOPLE HIDE THEIR LOVE
By Wu-ti
Who says That it's by my desire, This separation, this living so far from you?
My dress still smells of the lavender you gave: My hand still holds the letter that you sent.
