No More Learning

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.
One limb, although destroyed,--whole body safe!
But even now on winter nights when the wind and rain blow
From evening on till day's dawn I cannot sleep for pain.
Not sleeping for pain
Is a small thing to bear,
Compared with the joy of being alive when all the rest are dead.
For otherwise, years ago, at the ford of Lu River
My body would have died and my soul hovered by the bones that no one
gathered.
A ghost, I'd have wandered in Yun-nan, always looking for home.
Over the graves of ten thousand soldiers, mournfully hovering. "
So the old man spoke.
And I bid you listen to his words
Have you not heard
That the Prime Minister of K'ai-yuan,[72] Sung K'ai-fu,
Did not reward frontier exploits, lest a spirit of aggression should
prevail?
And have you not heard
That the Prime Minister of T'ien-Pao, Yang Kuo-chung[73]
Desiring to win imperial favour, started a frontier war?
But long before he could win the war, people had lost their temper;
Ask the man with the broken arm in the village of Hsin-f? ng?

[71] A. D. 742-755.

[72] 713-742.

[73] Cousin of the notorious mistress of Ming-huang, Yang Kuei-fei.


KEPT WAITING IN THE BOAT AT CHIU-K'OU TEN DAYS BY AN ADVERSE WIND

White billows and huge waves block the river crossing;
Wherever I go, danger and difficulty; whatever I do, failure.
Just as in my worldly career I wander and lose the road,
So when I come to the river crossing, I am stopped by contrary winds.
Of fishes and prawns sodden in the rain the smell fills my nostrils;
With the stings of insects that come with the fog, my whole body is
sore.
I am growing old, time flies, and my short span runs out.
While I sit in a boat at Chiu-k'ou, wasting ten days!


ON BOARD SHIP: READING YUAN CH? N'S POEMS

I take your poems in my hand and read them beside the candle;
The poems are finished: the candle is low: dawn not yet come.