(1)
If you were riding in a coach And I were wearing a "li,"[9]
And one day we met in the road, You would get down and bow.
If you were carrying a "teng"[10]
And I were riding on a horse, And one day we met in the road I would get down for you.
[9] A peasant's coat made of straw.
[10] An umbrella under which a cheap-jack sells his wares.
(2)
Shang Ya!
I want to be your friend For ever and ever without break or decay.
When the hills are all flat And the rivers are all dry, When it lightens and thunders in winter, When it rains and snows in summer, When Heaven and Earth mingle-- Not till then will I part from you.
BURIAL SONGS
(1)
"The dew on the garlic-leaf," sung at the burial of kings and princes.
How swiftly it dries, The dew on the garlic-leaf, The dew that dries so fast To-morrow will fall again.
But he whom we carry to the grave Will never more return.
(2)
"The Graveyard," sung at the burial of common men.
What man's land is the graveyard?
It is the crowded home of ghosts,-- Wise and foolish shoulder to shoulder.
The King of the Dead claims them all; Man's fate knows no tarrying.
SEVENTEEN OLD POEMS
The following seventeen poems are from a series known as the Nineteen Pieces of Old Poetry. Some have been attributed to Mei Sheng (first century B.C.), and one to Fu I (first century A.D.). They are manifestly not all by the same hand nor of the same date. Internal evidence shows that No. 3 at least was written after the date of Mei Sheng's death.
These poems had an enormous influence on all subsequent poetry, and many of the habitual _cliches_ of Chinese verse are taken from them. I have omitted two because of their marked inferiority.
(1)
On and on, always on and on Away from you, parted by a life-parting.[11]
Going from one another ten thousand "li,"
Each in a different corner of the World.
The way between is difficult and long, Face to face how shall we meet again?
The Tartar horse prefers the North wind, The bird from Yueh nests on the Southern branch.
Since we parted the time is already long, Daily my clothes hang looser round my waist.
Floating clouds obscure the white sun, The wandering one has quite forgotten home.
Thinking of you has made me suddenly old, The months and years swiftly draw to their close.
I'll put you out of my mind and forget for ever And try with all my might to eat and thrive.[12]
[11] The opposite of a parting by death.
[12] The popular, but erroneous, interpretation of these two lines is:
"That I'm cast away and rejected I will not repine, But only hope with all my heart you're well."
(2)
Green, green, The grass by the river-bank.
Thick, thick, The willow trees in the garden.
Sad, sad, The lady in the tower.
White, white, Sitting at the casement window.
Fair, fair, Her red-powdered face.
Small, small, She puts out her pale hand.
Once she was a dancing-house girl.
Now she is a wandering man's wife.
The wandering man went, but did not return.
It is hard alone to keep an empty bed.
(3)
Green, green, The cypress on the mound.
Firm, firm, The boulder in the stream.
Man's life lived within this world, Is like the sojourning of a hurried traveller.
A cup of wine together will make us glad, And a little friendship is no little matter.
Yoking my chariot I urge my stubborn horses.
I wander about in the streets of Wan and Lo.
In Lo Town how fine everything is!
The "Caps and Belts"[13] go seeking each other out.
The great boulevards are intersected by lanes, Wherein are the town-houses of Royal Dukes.
The two palaces stare at each other from afar, The twin gates rise a hundred feet.
By prolonging the feast let us keep our hearts gay, And leave no room for sadness to creep in.
[13] High officers.
(4)
Of this day's glorious feast and revel The pleasure and delight are difficult to describe.
Plucking the lute they sent forth lingering sounds, The new melodies in beauty reached the divine.
Skilful singers intoned the high words, Those who knew the tune heard the trueness of their singing.
We sat there each with the same desire And like thoughts by each unexpressed: "Man in the world lodging for a single life-time Passes suddenly like dust borne on the wind.
Then let us hurry out with high steps And be the first to reach the highways and fords: Rather than stay at home wretched and poor For long years plunged in sordid grief."
(5)