No More Learning

[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.
With sore eyes by the guttering candle still I sit in the dark,
Listening to waves that, driven by the wind, strike the prow of
the ship.


ARRIVING AT HSUN-YANG

(TWO POEMS)

(1)

A bend of the river brings into view two triumphal arches;
That is the gate in the western wall of the suburbs of Hsun-yang.
I have still to travel in my solitary boat three or four leagues--
By misty waters and rainy sands, while the yellow dusk thickens.
(2)

We are almost come to Hsun-yang: how my thoughts are stirred
As we pass to the south of Yu Liang's[74] tower and the east of
P'? n Port.
The forest trees are leafless and withered,--after the mountain
rain;
The roofs of the houses are hidden low among the river mists.
The horses, fed on water grass, are too weak to carry their load;
The cottage walls of wattle and thatch let the wind blow on one's
bed.
In the distance I see red-wheeled coaches driving from the town-gate;
They have taken the trouble, these civil people, to meet their new
Prefect!

[74] Died A. D. 340. Giles, 2526.


MADLY SINGING IN THE MOUNTAINS

There is no one among men that has not a special failing:
And my failing consists in writing verses.
I have broken away from the thousand ties of life:
But this infirmity still remains behind.
Each time that I look at a fine landscape:
Each time that I meet a loved friend,
I raise my voice and recite a stanza of poetry
And am glad as though a God had crossed my path.
Ever since the day I was banished to Hsun-yang
Half my time I have lived among the hills.
And often, when I have finished a new poem,
Alone I climb the road to the Eastern Rock.
I lean my body on the banks of white stone:
I pull down with my hands a green cassia branch.
My mad singing startles the valleys and hills:
The apes and birds all come to peep.