The names of the
deserving
shall be carved on the Cloud Terrace.
Waley - 170 Chinese Poems
To look for her lover she climbs the Blue Tower.
The tower is high: she looks, but cannot see:
All day she leans on the balcony rails.
The rail is twisted into a twelve-fold pattern.
She lets fall her hand white like the colour of jade.
She rolls up the awning, she sees the wide sky,
And the sea-water waving its vacant blue.
"The sea shall carry my dreams far away,
So that you shall be sorry at last for my sorrow.
If the South wind--only knew my thoughts
It would blow my dreams till they got to the Western Island. "
SONG
By Tsang Chih (sixth century)
I was brought up under the Stone Castle:
My window opened on to the castle tower.
In the castle were beautiful young men
Who waved to me as they went in and out.
SONG OF THE MEN OF CHIN-LING
(MARCHING BACK INTO THE CAPITAL)
By Hsieh T'iao (fifth century A. D. )
Chiang-nan is a glorious and beautiful land,
And Chin-ling an exalted and kingly province!
The green canals of the city stretch on and on
And its high towers stretch up and up.
Flying gables lean over the bridle-road:
Drooping willows cover the Royal Aqueduct.
Shrill flutes sing by the coach's awning,
And reiterated drums bang near its painted wheels.
The names of the deserving shall be carved on the Cloud Terrace. [34]
And for those who have done valiantly rich reward awaits.
[34] The Record Office.
THE SCHOLAR RECRUIT
By Pao Chao (died A. D. 466)
Now late
I follow Time's Necessity:[35]
Mounting a barricade I pacify remote tribes.
Discarding my sash I don a coat of rhinoceros-skin:
Rolling up my skirts I shoulder a black bow.
Even at the very start my strength fails:
What will become of me before it's all over?
[35] _I. e. _, "enlist. "
THE RED HILLS
By Pao Chao
Red hills lie athwart us as a menace in the west,
And fiery mountains glare terrible in the south.
The body burns, the head aches and throbs:
If a bird light here, its soul forthwith departs.
Warm springs
Pour from cloudy pools
And hot smoke issues between the rocks.
The sun and moon are perpetually obscured:
The rain and dew never stay dry.
There are red serpents a hundred feet long,
And black snakes ten girths round.