The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry
Page 10
what can such trifles mean to you?”
LIU XIJUN
(late second century bce)
Around 107 bce a Chinese princess from the Han royal family was married for political reasons to the chief of the Wusun tribe, a nomadic band in the northwest of China. When she arrived, she found her new husband aged and decrepit. They saw each other once every six months, or once a year, and couldn't communicate since they had no common language. When her husband grew much older, she was forced to marry his grandson. This song is attributed to her.
Lament
My family married me off to
the king of the Wusun,
and I live in an alien land
a million miles from nowhere.
My house is a tent.
My walls are of felt.
Raw flesh is all I eat,
with horse milk to drink.
I always think of home
and my heart stings.
O to be a yellow snow goose
floating home again!
ANONYMOUS FOLK SONGS
FROM THE MUSIC BUREAU
(c. 120 bce)
The yuefu refers to the Bureau of Music, which was set up around 120 bce by Emperor Wu of the Han dynasty and abolished in 6 bce by Emperor Ai. At the time of its dissolution, it employed 829 people. Its function was to collect songs by the common people, in part as a way of judging their reactions to the imperial government. The Music Bureau employees also performed rites and created sacrificial music. The collected songs came to be called yuefu songs, and in the history of Chinese poetry this term now describes a type of poem written in imitation of yuefu themes. As with the songs in the Book of Songs, the popular themes of the folk songs have proved to be more enduring and affecting than the ritual hymns or the eulogies in praise of the dynasty. Though the majority of the poems fall into regular lines, there are also poems of irregular meter. In the Tang dynasty, “new Music Bureau” songs were created by Bai Juyi and Yuan Zhen that deviated from yuefu form and content, seeking formal freedoms and often satirizing the abuses of the ruling classes.
The East Gate
I stride out the east gate
and don't look back.
The next moment I'm in our doorway,
about to break down.
There's no rice in our pot.
I see hangers but no clothes.
So I draw my sword and again head out the east gate!
My wife grabs me by the shirt and sobs
“I'm not like other wives. I could care less for gold or rank.
I'm happy to eat gruel if I'm with you.
Look up! The sky is a stormy ocean.
Look down! See your small son's yellow face?
To go now is wrong.”
“Bah!” I say,
“I'm going now
before it's too late.
We can barely survive as it is
and white hairs are raining from my head.”
A Sad Tune
I sing a sad song when I want to weep,
gaze far off when I want to go home.
I miss my old place.
Inside me, a dense mesh of grief.
But there's no one to go back to,
no boat across that river.
This heart is bursting,
but my tongue is dead.
My guts are twisting like a wagon wheel
He Waters His Horse Near a
Breach in the Long Wall**
Green so green is the river grass,
and I can't stop thinking of that far road,
can't bear thinking of that far road.
Last night I saw him in my dream,
dreamed him standing by my side.
Suddenly I was in another land,
another land and a different country.
I tossed and turned and woke apart.
The gaunt mulberry knows the sky's wind
and waters of the sea know cold heaven.
When travelers return in joy
not one has a word for me.
From a far land a traveler came
and left me two carp.
I asked my children to cook the fish
and inside they found a silk letter.
I knelt long and read the letter.
What did that letter say?
It started, Try to eat.
and ended, I miss you always
At fifteen I went to war
At fifteen I went to war
and I'm eighty now,
coming home at last.
I meet a man from my village
and ask who lives in my home now.
“Your house is over there,
where pine and cypress crowd the grave mounds.”
Rabbits scurry in the dog door,
pheasants fly among the rafters,
wild grain burgeons in the yard,
and sunflowers blossom by the well.
I beat the grain to make gruel,
pick sunflowers to make soup,
but when the gruel and soup are cooked
no one is there to serve the food.
I go to the east door and stand gazing
while tears soak my clothes.
An Ancient Poem Written for the Wife of Jiao Zhongqing
(Southeast the Peacock Flies)
The peacock flies southeast
but every few miles it lingers, circling.
“I wove silk at thirteen
and learned to tailor at fourteen.
At fifteen I played the many-stringed harp,
and at sixteen recited the Book of Songs and Book of Documents.
I became your wife at seventeen,
but my heart's core was often bitterly sad.
You worked as a governmental clerk;
I guarded my virtue and my passion never shifted.
I stayed in an empty chamber,
rarely able to see you.
I'd start to weave when the rooster crowed,
night after night without rest.
In three days I finished five bolts,
but Big Mother chose to complain that I was slow.1
It wasn't that I didn't work fast enough,
but it's hard to be a wife in your home.
I can't bear being used this way.
There's no use in staying any longer.
So please tell your parents,
to send me back home soon.”
The clerk heard these words,
At Fifteen I Went to War
and begged his mother in the hall:
“I have a meager income,
and am fortunate to have her as my wife.
Once we bound our hair as children, we shared pillow and sheets,2
and will stay friends even in Yellow Springs, where the dead go.3
We've been together just two or three years,
not much time at all.
Her behavior is not wayward,
so why treat her unkindly?”
The mother said to the clerk:
“That's just too much! Such nonsense.
This woman is not polite,
her behavior is so free and headstrong
it's made me furious for a long time.
How dare you seek to have your way!
There's a nice girl, our east-side neighbor,
named Qin Luofu.
She has a beautiful figure, without rival.
As your mother, I will ask for her for you.
Just send your other wife away,
send her fast, without delay.”
The man knelt down and answered:
“I just want to let you know, mother:
if you send this woman away,
I will never marry again!”
The mother heard this
and beat the bed in fury:
“Little one, you better take care.
How dare you defend this woman!
She has already lost my favor,
and I will never appro
ve your request!”
The man fell silent,
kowtowed to her and returned to his room.
He tried to talk to his wife
but fell sobbing and his voice failed.
“I don't want to send you away,
but my mother forces me.
Please just go home for a while,
let me report back to my office today.
I will come home again soon
and come for you to welcome you back.
Don't worry, this is my intent,
so please do as I say.”
The woman replied to her man:
“Please don't go over these tangled questions.
In the past, early one spring,
I said farewell to my home and came to your honored door.
My actions always followed your parents' wishes.
I didn't dare take a step on my own.
Day and night I worked with industry,
alone and suffering terrible hardship.
I committed no offenses,
just served and tried to show gratitude.
But when even so I'm still to be sent away,
how can you talk about my return?
I have an embroidered silk jacket so bright it shines with its own light
and red silk curtains for my bed
with scented bags hanging in the four corners,
sixty or seventy covered chests
tied with green and black silk ropes,
countless different kinds of boxes,
and within are treasures of every sort.
Since I am so humble, my belongings are also humble,
hardly good enough to serve the new woman.
But I'll leave them here in case you can give them away.
Since we will never see each other again
they might give you some comfort.
As time unfolds, don't ever forget me.”
The rooster crowed and it was the crack of dawn.
The woman rose and did her makeup.
She put on her silk padded skirt,
and carefully checked herself four or five times.
She slipped a pair of silk shoes on her feet
and on her head a glowing hawksbill turtle comb,
a flowing white silk sash around her waist,
and on her ears bright moon earrings.
Her fingers were slender white scallion roots,
her lips red as if she'd sucked on cinnabar.
She walked with tiny elegant steps
with a beauty matchless in this world.
She went to the hall and kowtowed to her mother-in-law,
who listened without interrupting her:
“When I was a girl before marriage
I was brought up in the fields.
I did not have a good education
and I am sorry to have humbled your son.
I know I've received much money and silk from you,
and yet I cannot bear the way you use me.
Today I'm returning home,
and I worry you'll have too much work without me.”
Then she said good-bye to her husband's little sister
while her tears rolled down like stringed pearls:
“When I first came as a young woman
you held the bed's edge in order to stand up.
But now that I am being sent away
you are just as tall as I am.
Use your heart and take care of your parents
and take care of yourself.
On the seventh and twenty-ninth4
don't forget how much fun we had.”
She walked out and climbed into the carriage,
shedding a hundred lines of tears.
The man's horse trotted away,
and her carriage set off later.
Click-clack and rambling and rumbling,
the horse and carriage met again at a large crossroads.
Dismounting, the husband entered the carriage,
lowered his head and whispered in her ear:
“I vow I will not abandon you.
You just go home for the time being.
I must return to my office
but will come back soon.
I swear before heaven I will not forsake you.”
The woman answered the clerk:
“I thank you for your concern.
If you truly hold me so near to your heart
I expect you to come soon.
You will be the rock
and I will be a reed.
Reeds can be tough as silk,
but don't let the rock move!
I have a father and many brothers
with tempers explosive as thunder.
I fear they won't let me follow my will.
The thought of it makes my heart sizzle.”
They raised their hands long in farewell
two of them loving and sad, unwilling to depart.
She passed through the gate and into the hall of her home,
hesitant and feeling shame.
Her mother clapped her hands in anger:
“I never expected to see you sent back home!
I taught you how to weave at thirteen
how to tailor at fourteen
how to play the many-stringed harp at fifteen
and rules and good manners at sixteen.
I married you off at the age of seventeen
and you vowed you wouldn't be wayward.
Now what offense have you committed,
that you return home without invitation?”
But Ah Lan said, “I am sorry to humiliate you mother,
yet I really did nothing wrong,”
and then her mother felt a deep sorrow.
About ten days after her return,
the county head sent a matchmaker over, who said,
“The governor has a third son
handsome without peer.
He is only eighteen or nineteen
and he shows great eloquence and talent…”
The mother said to her daughter,
“You should take this offer.”
But her daughter replied in tears:
“When I was coming home,
the clerk urged me again and again
and we vowed not to separate.
If I go against emotions and integrity
I'm afraid this matter will turn out badly.
Please send the messenger away,
and let's take time to talk about this matter.”
The mother told the matchmaker:
“Our daughter is poor and humble,
and she was just sent home to her parents.
If she was not good as a clerk's wife,
how can she be good for your gentleman?
You should go and inquire in other houses.
I cannot give you my consent now.”
After the matchmaker had been gone a few days
the governor sent over another official:
“Since people know Lan Zhi's family
has long served as government officials,
and since the fifth son of the governor
is handsome and unmarried,
I'm sent to be a matchmaker.
I talked to your local secretary
and told him about the governor
and this fine young man.
We intend to propose a marriage
so we are here at your honored door.”
The mother thanked the matchmaker:
“My daughter has already made a vow;
how dare I mention it again?”
When the brother learned about this,
his heart was puzzled and annoyed.
He questioned his sister:
“Why don't you think about it carefully?
Your first marriage was only to a clerk,
but for a second marriage you could get a lord!
It's like changing earth for heaven.
It is enough to give
you high status. If you don't want this
marriage, what are you going to do in the future?”
Lan Zhi held up her head and replied:
“You are right, brother.
I left home to serve my husband,
yet midway had to return to my brother's door.
I should follow my brother's wishes.
How should I follow my own will?
Though I have an agreement with the clerk,
there's no chance we will be together again.”
And at the moment she agreed,
ready to accept this marriage.
The matchmaker rose up from the couch,
and repeatedly said yes and yes.
He returned to tell the governor:
“I took your orders and conferred with them,
the outlook seems very promising.”
When the governor heard this
his heart was full and happy.
He consulted his books and astrological calendar
and said, “It is best for them to marry in this month.
The six elements are all in the right combination.
The lucky date is the thirtieth,
and today is already the twenty-seventh.
You can go and arrange the wedding.”
Orders were soon given to have things prepared,
errand runners came one after another like floating clouds.
There were green peacock boats and white swan boats
with dragon banners decorating their four corners
and turning gracefully with wind,
gold wagons with jade wheels
and piebald horses prancing,
their gold saddles decorated with tassels,
a dowry of three million coins
all strung along green threads,
three hundred bolts of varied silks,
delicacies from seas and mountains of Jiao and Guang provinces,
and four or five hundred servants
crowded out from the governor's gate.
The mother said to the daughter:
“I just received the governor's letter,
they will come and take you tomorrow.
Why aren't you making your wedding dress now?
Please don't ruin the whole thing.”
The daughter remained silent,
weeping with a handkerchief over her mouth,
tears coming down like torrents.