THE MAN WHO DREAMED OF FAIRIES

This poem is an attack on the Emperor Hsien-tsung, A.D. 806-820, who "was devoted to magic." A Taoist wizard told him that herbs of longevity grew near the city of T'ai-chou. The Emperor at once appointed him prefect of the place, "pour lui permettre d'herboriser plus a son aise"

(Wieger, Textes III, 1723). When the censors protested, the Emperor replied: "The ruin of a single district would be a small price to pay, if it could procure longevity for the Lord of Men."

There was once a man who dreamt he went to Heaven: His dream-body soared aloft through space.

He rode on the back of a white-plumed crane, And was led on his flight by two crimson banners.

Whirring of wings and flapping of coat tails!

Jade bells suddenly all a-tinkle!

Half way to Heaven, he looked down beneath him, Down on the dark turmoil of the World.

Gradually he lost the place of his native town; Mountains and water--nothing else distinct.

The Eastern Ocean--a single strip of white: The Hills of China,--five specks of green.

Gliding past him a host of fairies swept In long procession to the Palace of the Jade City.

How should he guess that the children of Tzu-men[62]

Bow to the throne like courtiers of earthly kings?

They take him to the presence of the Mighty Jade Emperor: He bows his head and proffers loyal homage.

The Emperor says: "We see you have fairy talents: Be of good heart and do not slight yourself.

We shall send to fetch you in fifteen years And give you a place in the Courtyard of Immortality."

Twice bowing, he acknowledged the gracious words: Then woke from sleep, full of wonder and joy.

He hid his secret and dared not tell it abroad: But vowed a vow he would live in a cave of rock.

From love and affection he severed kith and kin: From his eating and drinking he omitted savoury and spice.

His morning meal was a dish of coral-dust: At night he sipped an essence of dewy mists.

In the empty mountains he lived for thirty years Daily watching for the Heavenly Coach to come.

The time of appointment was already long past, But of wings and coach-bells--still no sound.

His teeth and hair daily withered and decayed: His ears and eyes gradually lost their keenness.

One morning he suffered the Common Change And his body was one with the dust and dirt of the hill.

Gods and fairies! If indeed such things there be, Their ways are beyond the striving of mortal men.

If you have not on your skull the Golden Bump's protrusion, If your name is absent from the rolls of the Red Terrace, In vain you learn the "Method of Avoiding Food": For naught you study the "Book of Alchemic Lore."

Though you sweat and toil, what shall your trouble bring?

You will only shorten the five-score years of your span.

Sad, alas, the man who dreamt of Fairies!

For a single dream spoiled his whole life.

[62] _I.e._, the Immortals.

MAGIC

Boundless, the great sea.

Straight down,--no bottom: sideways,--no border.

Of cloudy waves and misty billows down in the uttermost depths Men have fabled, in the midst there stand three sacred hills.

On the hills, thick growing,--herbs that banish Death.

Wings grow on those who eat them and they turn into heavenly "hsien."

The Lord of Ch'in[63] and Wu of Han[64] believed in these stories: And magic-workers year by year were sent to gather the herbs.

The Blessed Islands, now and of old, what but an empty tale?

The misty waters spread before them and they knew not where to seek.

Boundless, the great sea.

Dauntless, the mighty wind.

Their eyes search but cannot see the shores of the Blessed Islands.

They cannot find the Blessed Isles and yet they dare not return: Youths and maidens that began the quest grew grey on board the boat.

They found that the writings of Hsu[65] were all boasts and lies: To the Lofty Principle and Great Unity in vain they raised their prayers.

Do you not see The graves on the top of Black Horse Hill[66] and the tombs at Mo-ling?[67]

What is left but the sighing wind blowing in the tangled grasses?

Yes, and what is more, The Dark and Primal Master of Sages in his five thousand words[68]

Never spoke of herbs, Never spoke of "hsien,"

Nor spoke of soaring in broad daylight up to the blue heaven.

[63] The "First Emperor," 259-210 B.C.

[64] Wu Ti, 156-87 B.C.

[65] = Hsu Shih. Giles, 1276.

[66] The burial-places of these two Emperors.

[67] _Ibid._

[68] Lao-tzu, in the Tao Te Ching.

THE TWO RED TOWERS

(A SATIRE AGAINST CLERICALISM)

The Two Red Towers North and south rise facing each other.

I beg to ask, to whom do they belong?

To the two Princes of the period Cheng Yuan.[69]

The two Princes blew on their flutes and drew down fairies from the sky, Who carried them off through the Five Clouds, soaring away to Heaven.

Their halls and houses, that they could not take with them, Were turned into Temples planted in the Dust of the World.

In the tiring-rooms and dancers' towers all is silent and still; Only the willows like dancers' arms, and the pond like a mirror.

When the flowers are falling at yellow twilight, when things are sad and hushed, One does not hear songs and flutes, but only chimes and bells.

The Imperial Patent on the Temple doors is written in letters of gold; For nuns' quarters and monks' cells ample space is allowed.

For green moss and bright moonlight--plenty of room provided; In a hovel opposite is a sick man who has hardly room to lie down.

I remember once when at P'ing-yang they were building a great man's house How it swallowed up the housing space of thousands of ordinary men.

The Immortals[70] are leaving us, two by two, and their houses are turned into Temples; I begin to fear that the whole world will become a vast convent.

[69] 785-805.

[70] Hsien Tsung's brothers?

THE CHARCOAL-SELLER

(A SATIRE AGAINST "KOMMANDATUR")

An old charcoal-seller Cutting wood and burning charcoal in the forests of the Southern Mountain.

His face, stained with dust and ashes, has turned to the colour of smoke.

The hair on his temples is streaked with gray: his ten fingers are black.