No More Learning

Always thinking of my own country,
My heart sad within.
Would I were a yellow stork
And could fly to my old home!


CH'IN CHIA

Ch'in Chia (first century A. D. ) was summoned to take up an appointment
at the capital at a time when his wife was ill and staying with her
parents. He was therefore unable to say goodbye to her, and sent her
three poems instead. This is the last of the three.

Solemn, solemn the coachman gets ready to go:
"Chiang, chiang" the harness bells ring.
At break of dawn I must start on my long journey:
At cock-crow I must gird on my belt.
I turn back and look at the empty room:
For a moment I almost think I see you there.
One parting, but ten thousand regrets:
As I take my seat, my heart is unquiet.
What shall I do to tell you all my thoughts?
How can I let you know of all my love?
Precious hairpins make the head to shine
And bright mirrors can reflect beauty.
Fragrant herbs banish evil smells
And the scholar's harp has a clear note.
The man in the Book of Odes[18] who was given a quince
Wanted to pay it back with diamonds and rubies.
When I think of all the things you have done for me,
How ashamed I am to have done so little for you!
Although I know that it is a poor return,
All I can give you is this description of my feelings.

[18] Odes, v, 10.


CH'IN CHIA'S WIFE'S REPLY

My poor body is alas unworthy:
I was ill when first you brought me home.
Limp and weary in the house--
Time passed and I got no better.
We could hardly ever see each other:
I could not serve you as I ought.
Then you received the Imperial Mandate:
You were ordered to go far away to the City.
Long, long must be our parting:
I was not destined to tell you my thoughts.
I stood on tiptoe gazing into the distance,
Interminably gazing at the road that had taken you.
With thoughts of you my mind is obsessed:
In my dreams I see the light of your face.
Now you are started on your long journey
Each day brings you further from me.
Oh that I had a bird's wings
And high flying could follow you.
Long I sob and long I cry:
The tears fall down and wet my skirt.


SONG

By Sung Tz? -hou (second century A.