No More Learning

He sang:

Tchirek River
Lies under the Dark Mountains:
Where the sky is like the sides of a tent
Stretched down over the Great Steppe.
The sky is gray, gray:
And the steppe wide, wide:
Over grass that the wind has battered low
Sheep and oxen roam.

"Altun" means "gold" in Tartar. No one could teach him to write the
Chinese character for _gold_, till at last some one said: "Draw the
roof of your house and then put a few strokes underneath. " He thus
learnt, in a rough fashion, to write his own name.




CHAPTER V


BUSINESS MEN

By Ch'? n Tz? -ang (A. D. 656-698)

Business men boast of their skill and cunning
But in philosophy they are like little children.
Bragging to each other of successful depredations
They neglect to consider the ultimate fate of the body.
What should they know of the Master of Dark Truth
Who saw the wide world in a jade cup,
By illumined conception got clear of Heaven and Earth:
On the chariot of Mutation entered the Gate of Immutability?


TELL ME NOW

By Wang Chi (_circa_ A. D. 700)

"Tell me now, what should a man want
But to sit alone, sipping his cup of wine?
"
I should like to have visitors come and discuss philosophy
And not to have the tax-collector coming to collect taxes:
My three sons married into good families
And my five daughters wedded to steady husbands.
Then I could jog through a happy five-score years
And, at the end, need no Paradise.


ON GOING TO A TAVERN

By Wang Chi

These days, continually fuddled with drink,
I fail to satisfy the appetites of the soul.
But seeing men all behaving like drunkards,[42]
How can I alone remain sober?

[42] Written during the war which preceded the T'ang dynasty.


STONE FISH LAKE

By Yuan Chieh (flourished _circa_ A. D. 740-770).

Yuan Chieh, a contemporary of Li Po, has not hitherto been mentioned
in any European book. "His subjects were always original, but his
poems are seldom worth quoting," is a Chinese opinion of him.

I loved you dearly, Stone Fish Lake,
With your rock-island shaped like a swimming fish!
On the fish's back is the Wine-cup Hollow
And round the fish,--the flowing waters of the Lake.
The boys on the shore sent little wooden ships,
Each made to carry a single cup of wine.
The island-drinkers emptied the liquor-boats
And set their sails and sent them back for more.
On the shores of the Lake were jutting slabs of rock
And under the rocks there flowed an icy stream.
Heated with wine, to rinse our mouths and hands
In those cold waters was a joy beyond compare!