No More Learning

Of men there is none that has not some preference;
Of things there is none but mixes good with ill.
It was not that I did not love the tender branches;
But better still,--to see the green hills!


BEING VISITED BY A FRIEND DURING ILLNESS

I have been ill so long that I do not count the days;
At the southern window, evening--and again evening.
Sadly chirping in the grasses under my eaves
The winter sparrows morning and evening sing.
By an effort I rise and lean heavily on my bed;
Tottering I step towards the door of the courtyard.
By chance I meet a friend who is coming to see me;
Just as if I had gone specially to meet him.
They took my couch and placed it in the setting sun;
They spread my rug and I leaned on the balcony-pillar.
Tranquil talk was better than any medicine;
Gradually the feelings came back to my numbed heart.


ON THE WAY TO HANGCHOW: ANCHORED ON THE RIVER AT NIGHT

Little sleeping and much grieving,--the traveller
Rises at midnight and looks back towards home.
The sands are bright with moonlight that joins the shores;
The sail is white with dew that has covered the boat.
Nearing the sea, the river grows broader and broader:
Approaching autumn,--the nights longer and longer.
Thirty times we have slept amid mists and waves,
And still we have not reached Hang-chow!


STOPPING THE NIGHT AT JUNG-YANG

I grew up at Jung-yang;
I was still young when I left.
On and on,--forty years passed
Till again I stayed for the night at Jung-yang.
When I went away, I was only eleven or twelve;
This year I am turned fifty-six.
Yet thinking back to the times of my childish games,
Whole and undimmed, still they rise before me.
The old houses have all disappeared;
Down in the village none of my people are left.
It is not only that streets and buildings have changed;
But steep is level and level changed to steep!
Alone unchanged, the waters of Ch'iu and Yu
Passionless,--flow in their old course.


THE SILVER SPOON

While on the road to his new province, Hang-chow, in 822, he sends a
silver spoon to his niece A-kuei, whom he had been obliged to leave
behind with her nurse, old Mrs. Ts'ao.

To distant service my heart is well accustomed;
When I left home, it wasn't _that_ which was difficult
But because I had to leave Miss Kuei at home--
For this it was that tears filled my eyes.
Little girls ought to be daintily fed:
Mrs. Ts'ao, please see to this!
That's why I've packed and sent a silver spoon;
You will think of me and eat up your food nicely!


THE HAT GIVEN TO THE POET BY LI CHIEN

Long ago to a white-haired gentleman
You made the present of a black gauze hat.
The gauze hat still sits on my head;
But you already are gone to the Nether Springs.
The thing is old, but still fit to wear;
The man is gone and will never be seen again.
Out on the hill the moon is shining to-night
And the trees on your tomb are swayed by the autumn wind.


THE BIG RUG

That so many of the poor should suffer from cold what can we do to
prevent?
To bring warmth to a single body is not much use.