No More Learning

Half a piece of red silk and a single yard of damask,
The Courtiers have tied to the oxen's collar, as the price
of a wagon of coal!


THE POLITICIAN

I was going to the City to sell the herbs I had plucked;
On the way I rested by some trees at the Blue Gate.
Along the road there came a horseman riding;
Whose face was pale with a strange look of dread.
Friends and relations, waiting to say good-bye,
Pressed at his side, but he did not dare to pause.
I, in wonder, asked the people about me
Who he was and what had happened to him.
They told me this was a Privy Councillor
Whose grave duties were like the pivot of State.
His food allowance was ten thousand cash;
Three times a day the Emperor came to his house.
Yesterday he was called to a meeting of Heroes:
To-day he is banished to the country of Yai-chou.
So always, the Counsellors of Kings;
Favour and ruin changed between dawn and dusk!
Green, green,--the grass of the Eastern Suburb;
And amid the grass, a road that leads to the hills.
Resting in peace among the white clouds,
At last he has made a "coup" that cannot fail!


THE OLD MAN WITH THE BROKEN ARM

(A SATIRE ON MILITARISM)

At Hsin-f? ng an old man--four-score and eight;
The hair on his head and the hair of his eyebrows--white as the
new snow.
Leaning on the shoulders of his great-grandchildren, he walks in
front of the Inn;
With his left arm he leans on their shoulders; his right arm is
broken.
I asked the old man how many years had passed since he broke his arm;
I also asked the cause of the injury, how and why it happened?
The old man said he was born and reared in the District of Hsin-f? ng;
At the time of his birth--a wise reign; no wars or discords.
"Often I listened in the Pear-Tree Garden to the sound of flute and
song;
Naught I knew of banner and lance; nothing of arrow or bow.
Then came the wars of T'ien-pao[71] and the great levy of men;
Of three men in each house,--one man was taken.
And those to whom the lot fell, where were they taken to?
Five months' journey, a thousand miles--away to Yun-nan.
We heard it said that in Yun-nan there flows the Lu River;
As the flowers fall from the pepper-trees, poisonous vapours rise.
When the great army waded across, the water seethed like a cauldron;
When barely ten had entered the water, two or three were dead.
To the north of my village, to the south of my village the sound of
weeping and wailing.
Children parting from fathers and mothers; husbands parting from
wives.
Everyone says that in expeditions against the Min tribes
Of a million men who are sent out, not one returns.
I, that am old, was then twenty-four;
My name and fore-name were written down in the rolls of the Board of
War.
In the depth of the night not daring to let any one know
I secretly took a huge stone and dashed it against my arm.
For drawing the bow and waving the banner now wholly unfit;
I knew henceforward I should not be sent to fight in Yun-nan.
Bones broken and sinews wounded could not fail to hurt;
I was ready enough to bear pain, if only I got back home.
My arm--broken ever since; it was sixty years ago.