Chinese Literature Part 30

Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, Alive to awful death consigned?

'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 'Twas sad the next, Chung-hang to see.

When on him pressed a hundred men, A match for all of them was he.

When to the yawning grave he came, Terror unnerved and shook his frame.

Why thus destroy our n.o.blest men, To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!

To save Chung-hang from death, we would A hundred lives have freely given.

They flit about, the yellow birds, And rest upon the thorn-trees find.

Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, Alive to awful death consigned?

'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 'Twas sad the third, K'een-foo, to see.

A hundred men in desperate fight Successfully withstand could he.

When to the yawning grave he came, Terror unnerved and shook his frame.

Why thus destroy our n.o.blest men, To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!

To save K'een-foo from death, we would A hundred lives have freely given.

[NOTE.--The incident related in this poem occurred in the year B.C. 620, when the duke of Muh died after playing an important part in the affairs of Northwest China. Muh required the three officers here celebrated, to be buried with him, and according to the "Historical Records" this barbarous practice began with duke Ching, Muh's predecessor. In all, 170 individuals were buried with Muh. The death of the last distinguished man of the Ts'in dynasty, the Emperor I, was subsequently celebrated by the entombment with him of all the inmates of his harem.]

~In Praise of a Ruler of Ts'in~

What trees grow on the Chung-nan hill?

The white fir and the plum.

In fur of fox, 'neath 'broidered robe, Thither our prince is come.

His face glows with vermilion hue.

O may he prove a ruler true!

What find we on the Chung-nan hill?

Deep nook and open glade.

Our prince shows there the double _Ke_ On lower robe displayed.

His pendant holds each tinkling gem, Long life be his, and deathless fame!

~The Generous Nephew~

I escorted my uncle to Tsin, Till the Wei we crossed on the way.

Then I gave as I left For his carriage a gift Four steeds, and each steed was a bay.

I escorted my uncle to Tsin, And I thought of him much in my heart.

Pendent stones, and with them Of fine jasper a gem, I gave, and then saw him depart.

BOOK XII

THE ODES OF CH'IN

~The Contentment of a Poor Recluse~

My only door some pieces of crossed wood, Within it I can rest enjoy.

I drink the water wimpling from the spring; Nor hunger can my peace destroy.

Purged from ambition's aims I say, "For fish.

We need not bream caught in the Ho; Nor, to possess the sweets of love, require To Ts'e, to find a Keang, to go.

"The man contented with his lot, a meal Of fish without Ho carp can make; Nor needs, to rest in his domestic joy, A Tsze of Sung as wife to take."

~The Disappointed Lover~

Where grow the willows near the eastern gate, And 'neath their leafy shade we could recline, She said at evening she would me await, And brightly now I see the day-star shine!

Here where the willows near the eastern gate Grow, and their dense leaves make a shady gloom, She said at evening she would me await.

See now the morning star the sky illume!

~A Love-Song~

The moon comes forth, bright in the sky; A lovelier sight to draw my eye Is she, that lady fair.

She round my heart has fixed love's chain, But all my longings are in vain.

'Tis hard the grief to bear.

The moon comes forth, a splendid sight; More winning far that lady bright, Object of my desire!

Deep-seated is my anxious grief; In vain I seek to find relief; While glows the secret fire.

The rising moon shines mild and fair; More bright is she, whose beauty rare My heart with longing fills.

With eager wish I pine in vain; O for relief from constant pain, Which through my bosom thrills!

~The Lament of a Lover~

There where its sh.o.r.es the marsh surround, Rushes and lotus plants abound.

Their loveliness brings to my mind The lovelier one that I would find.

In vain I try to ease the smart Of wounded love that wrings my heart.

In waking thought and nightly dreams, From every pore the water streams.

All round the marsh's sh.o.r.es are seen Valerian flowers and rushes green.