Econlib

The Library

Other Sites

Front Page arrow Titles (by Subject) arrow PART I.: CHARACTERISTICS OF THE STATES. - The Shi King, the Old Poetry Classic of the Chinese

Return to Title Page for The Shi King, the Old “Poetry Classic” of the Chinese

Search this Title:

Also in the Library:

Subject Area: Literature

PART I.: CHARACTERISTICS OF THE STATES. - Misc (Confucian School), The Shi King, the Old “Poetry Classic” of the Chinese [1891]

Edition used:

The Shi King, the Old “Poetry Classic” of the Chinese. A Close Metrical Translation, with Annotations by William Jennings (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1891).

About Liberty Fund:

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.


PART I.

CHARACTERISTICS OF THE STATES.

BOOK I.

THE ODES OF CHOW AND THE SOUTH.*

I. i. 1.

SONG OF WELCOME TO THE BRIDE OF KING WĂN.

    • Waterfowl their mates are calling,§
    • On the islets in the stream.
    • Chaste and modest maid! fit partner
    • For our lord (thyself we deem).
    • Waterlilies,* long or short ones,—
    • Seek them left and seek them right.
    • ’Twas this chaste and modest maiden
    • He hath sought for, morn and night.
    • Seeking for her, yet not finding,
    • Night and morning he would yearn
    • Ah, so long, so long!—and restless
    • On his couch would toss and turn.
    • Waterlilies, long or short ones,—
    • Gather,† right and left, their flowers.
    • Now the chaste and modest maiden
    • Lute and harp shall hail as ours.
    • Long or short the waterlilies,
    • Pluck† them left and pluck them right.
    • To the chaste and modest maiden
    • Bell and drum§ shall give delight.

I. i. 2.

INDUSTRY AND FILIAL PIETY OF WĂN’S QUEEN.

    • Rarely my creepers grow
    • Into the vale they flow:
    • O, ’tis a leafy sea!
    • Golden orioles, taking flight,
    • Now on the bosky trees alight,
    • Chirruping all with glee.
    • Rarely my creepers grow!
    • Into the vale they flow;
    • Thick are their leafy beds.
    • These will I cut, prepare, and boil,
    • Lawn, coarse and fine, that ne’er will soil,
    • Weaving out of their threads.
    • Then let the matron* know,—
    • Know I must homewards go;
    • So be my wardrobe clean;
    • So be my robes rinsed free from spot.
    • Which then be sullied, and which be not?
    • —Parents must aye be seen.

I. i. 3.

THE ABSENT HUSBAND.

    • I picked and picked the mouse-ears,
    • Nor gained one basket-load;
    • My heart was with my husband:
    • I flung them on the road.
    • I climbed yon rugged mountain,
    • My ponies all broke down;
    • I filled my golden goblet
    • Long anxious thought to drown.
    • I climbed yon lofty ridges,
    • With my ponies black and bay;
    • I filled for me my horn-cup*
    • Long torture to allay.
    • I climbed yon craggy uplands,
    • My steeds grew weak and ill;
    • My footmen were exhausted:—
    • And here I sorrow still!

I. i. 4.

THE CREEPERS.

    • In the South the trees bend low,
    • Creepers creeping o’er them.
    • Happy with her lord is she;
    • Fortune is behind, before them!
    • In the South the trees bend low;
    • Creepers wild caress them.
    • Happy with her lord is she;
    • Fortune followeth to bless them!
    • In the South the trees bend low,
    • Creepers winding round them.
    • Happy with her lord is she;
    • Fortune following hath crowned them.

I. i. 5.

THE LOCUSTS.*

    • How do the locusts crowd—
    • A fluttering throng!
    • May thy descendants be
    • Thus vast, thus strong!
    • How do the locusts’ wings
    • In motion sound!
    • May thy descendants show,
    • Like them, no bound!
    • How do the locusts all
    • Together cluster!
    • May thy descendants too
    • In such wise muster!

I. i. 6.

BRIDAL-SONG (General).

    • Ho, graceful little peach-tree,
    • Brightly thy blossoms bloom!
    • Go, maiden, to thy husband;
    • Adorn his hall, his room.
    • Ho, graceful little peach-tree,
    • Thy fruit abundant fall!
    • Go, maiden, to thy husband;
    • Adorn his room, his hall.
    • Ho, graceful little peach-tree,
    • With foliage far and wide!
    • Go, maiden, to thy husband;
    • His household well to guide.

I. i. 7.

THE STALWART RABBIT-CATCHER.*

    • Deftly he sets his rabbit-nets;
    • Hear what blows, as he drives each stake!
    • Stalwart and strong,—’tis a warrior’s form:
    • Wall and shield for his Prince he’d make.
    • Deftly he sets his rabbit-nets,
    • Midway there where the most tracks be.
    • Stalwart and strong,—’tis a warrior’s form:
    • Right-hand man for his Prince were he.
    • Deftly he sets his rabbit-nets;
    • Right in the heart of the wildwood spread.
    • Stalwart and strong,—’tis a warrior’s form:
    • Such were a Prince’s heart and head!

I. i. 8.

SONG OF THE PLANTAIN-GATHERERS.*

    • To gather, to gather the plantain,
    • To gather it in, we go;
    • To gather, to gather the plantain,
    • See now we begin, yoho!
    • We gather, we gather the plantain,
    • Ho this is the way ’tis clipped!
    • We gather, we gather the plantain,
    • And so are the seeds all stripped!
    • We’ve gathered, we’ve gathered the plantain,
    • Ho now in our skirts ’tis placed;
    • We’ve gathered, we’ve gathered the plantain,
    • Now bundled, see, round each waist!

I. i. 9.

THE UNAPPROACHABLE MAIDENS.

    • In the South are stately poplars,
    • Vainly there we rest for shade;
    • By the Han maids wander freely,
    • Vainly there love’s quest is made.
    • O the Han’s great breadth (divides us)!
    • Baffling to the diver’s craft.
    • O the Kiang’s great length (divides us)!
    • Baffling to the toiling raft.
    • Some are piling high their firewood;
    • O to cut away each thorn!
    • Others leaving to be married;
    • O to give their steeds their corn!
    • But the breadth of Han (divides us),
    • Baffling to the diver’s craft,
    • And the length of Kiang (divides us),
    • Baffling to the toiling raft.
    • Some are piling high their grass-loads;
    • O to cut the fragrant weed!*
    • Others leaving to be married;
    • O their two-year-olds to feed!
    • But the breadth of Han, &c.

I. i. 10.

WIFELY SOLICITUDE.

    • Along the dykes of Ju I passed,
    • And lopped the twigs and boughs;
    • My soul was faint with its long fast:
    • I saw not yet my spouse.
    • Along the dykes of Ju I passed,
    • And lopped the shoots new-grown;
    • I saw my noble spouse at last,
    • He left me not alone.
    • Poor bream!§ thy tail is crimson now!
    • Kings’ biddings are severe—
    • Ordeals of fire!—yet aye hadst thou
    • Our land’s Protector near.

I. i. 11.

THE LIN.*

    • He, the lin showeth its hoof!
    • Prince, thy good sons are the proof:
    • Yea, ’tis the lin!
    • Ha, the lin showeth its brow!
    • Prince, noble grandsons hast thou:
    • Yea, ’tis the lin!
    • Ha, the lin showeth its horn!
    • True every relative born!
    • Yea, ’tis the lin!

BOOK II.

THE ODES OF SHÂU AND THE SOUTH.*

I. ii. 1.

THE WEDDING-JOURNEY OF A PRINCESS.

    • The magpie has a nest;
    • The dove yet takes possession.—
    • Lo! the young bride departs,
    • In many-wheeled procession.
    • The magpie has a nest;
    • The dove yet there will quarter.—
    • Lo! the young bride departs;
    • And countless cars escort her.
    • The magpie has a nest;
    • The dove will fill it (quickly).—
    • Lo! the young bride departs,
    • With chariots mustered thickly.

ii. 2.

A REVERENT HELPMATE.*

    • There gathers she the fragrant herb
    • Along the islets, by the pools,
    • To mingle with the votive gifts
    • Of him that o’er the princedom rules.
    • There gathers she the fragrant herb
    • Amid the mountain streams again,
    • To mingle with the votive gifts
    • Her prince will offer in the fane.
    • With head-gear all erect and high
    • Ere dawn the temple she attends;
    • With head-gear all uncared for now
    • Back to her place her way she wends.

I. ii. 3.

A LONG-ABSENT HUSBAND.

    • Now the crickets chirp and grind;
    • And the hoppers spring and fly.
    • But my lord not yet I find;
    • Ay, and sore at heart am I.
    • O to see him once again!
    • O to meet him once again!
    • Stilled were then the swelling sigh.
    • Climbed I yonder up South Hill,
    • Plucked sweet brackens as I went.
    • But my lord I saw not still;
    • Loud was yet my heart’s lament.
    • O to see him once again!
    • O to meet him once again!
    • So my heart were well content.
    • Climbed I yonder up South Hill,
    • Now to pluck the royal fern.
    • Yet my lord I saw not still;
    • Still my heart must pine and yearn.
    • O to see him once again!
    • O to meet him once again!
    • So my heart’s-ease might return.

I. ii. 4.

THE YOUNG WIFE’S ZEALOUS CARE IN THE WORSHIP OF HER HUSBAND’S ANCESTORS.

    • She goes to gather water-wort,
    • Beside the streams south of the hills;
    • She goes to gather water-grass
    • Along the swollen roadside rills;
    • Goes now to store her gathered herbs
    • In basket round, in basket square;
    • Goes now to seethe and simmer them
    • In tripod and in cauldron there;
    • Pours out libations of them all
    • Beneath the light within the Hall.—
    • And who is she—so occupied?
    • —Who, but (our lord’s) young pious bride?

I. ii. 5.

IN MEMORY OF A WORTHY CHIEFTAIN.

    • O pear-tree, with thy leafy shade!
    • Ne’er be thou cut, ne’er be thou laid;—
    • Once under thee Shâu’s chieftain stayed.
    • O pear-tree, with thy leafy crest,
    • Ne’er may they cut thee, ne’er molest;—
    • Shâu’s chief beneath thee once found rest.
    • O pear-tree, with thy leafy shroud,
    • Ne’er be those branches cut, nor bowed,
    • That shelter to Shâu’s chief allowed.

I. ii. 6.

THE RESISTED SUITOR.*

    • All soaking was the path with dew.
    • And was it not scarce daybreak, too?
    • I say: the path was drenched with dew.
    • Who says the sparrow has no horn?
    • How bores it then into my dwelling?
    • Who says of thee, thou art forlorn?*
    • Why then this forcing and compelling?
    • But force, compel me, do thy will:
    • Husband and wife we are not still.
    • Who says of rats, they have no teeth?
    • How do they bore then through my wall?
    • Who says of thee, thou art forlorn?
    • Why force me then into this brawl?
    • But force me, sue me,—even so,
    • With thee I do not mean to go!

I. ii. 7.

DIGNITY AND ECONOMY OF KING WĂN’S COUNCILLORS.

    • Clad in lambskin or in sheepskin,
    • Five white silken seams that show,
    • To their meal from court retiring,
    • With what dignity they go!
    • Bare of wool, the lamb or sheepskin
    • Five white sutures may reveal,
    • Still with dignity retire they
    • From their Master to their meal.
    • Though the skins, now rent in patches,
    • Five white silken seams require,
    • Still with dignity the wearers
    • To their meal from Court retire.

I. ii. 8.

THE LONELY WIFE.*

    • Hearken! there is thunder
    • On South Hill’s lofty crest.
    • Hence why must he wander,
    • Nor dare a moment rest?
    • True-hearted husband, fain, oh fain
    • Were I to see thee home again.
    • Hearken! now the thunder
    • Rolls lower on South Hill.
    • Hence why must he wander,
    • Nor ever dare be still?
    • True-hearted husband, fain, oh fain
    • Were I to have thee home again.
    • Hearken! now the thunder
    • Is down upon the plain.
    • Hence why must he wander,
    • Nor dare awhile remain?
    • True-hearted husband, fain, oh fain
    • Were I to find thee home again.

I. ii. 9.

FEARS OF MATURE MAIDENHOOD.

    • Though shaken be the damson-tree,
    • Left on it yet are seven, O.
    • Ye gentlemen who care for me,
    • Take chance while chance is given, O.
    • Though shaken be the damson-tree,
    • Yet three are still remaining, O.
    • Ye gentlemen who care for me,
    • Now, now; the time is waning, O.
    • Ah, shaken is the damson-tree,
    • And all are in the basket, O.
    • Ye gentlemen who care for me,
    • Your question—would ye ask it, O!

I. ii. 10.

CONTENTED CONCUBINES.

    • Starlets dim are yonder peeping,—
    • In the East are five, and three.
    • Softly, where our lord is (sleeping),
    • Soon or late by night go we.
    • Some have high, some low degree.*
    • Starlets dim are yonder peeping,—
    • Pleiades, Orion’s band.
    • Softly nightly go we creeping,
    • Quilt and coverlet in hand.
    • Some take high, some lower stand.

I. ii. 11.

JEALOUSY OVERCOME.*

    • The Kiang has arms that wayward wind.
    • Our lady erst as bride
    • Our help declined,
    • Our help declined;—
    • Anon she was of other mind.
    • The Kiang has banks within its bed.†
    • Our lady erst as bride
    • Our presence fled,
    • Our presence fled;—
    • Anon a calmer life she led.
    • The Kiang has creeks that leave it long.†
    • Our lady erst as bride
    • Spurned all our throng,
    • Spurned all our throng;—
    • Her sneering now is turned to song.

I. ii. 12.

THE CUNNING HUNTER.

    • In the wild there lies a dead gazelle,
    • With the reed-grass round it wrapt;
    • And a maid who loveth springtide well
    • By a winsome youth is trapped.
    • In the wood thick undergrowth is found,
    • In the wild the dead gazelle,
    • With the reed-grass round its body bound;—
    • And the maid she looketh well.*
    • “Ah! gently, not so fast, good sir;
    • My kerchief, prithee, do not stir;
    • Nor rouse the barking of my cur.”

I. ii. 13.

A ROYAL WEDDING.

    • What radiant bloom is there!
    • Blossoms of cherry wild.
    • What care attends the equipage
    • Of her, the royal child!
    • What radiance! Like the bloom
    • Of peach and plum in one!
    • Granddaughter of the Just King she,
    • He a true noble’s son.
    • How was the bait then laid?
    • ’Twas trimmed with silken twine.
    • He the true noble’s son (thus caught)
    • Her of the Just King’s line!

I. ii. 14.

THE TSOW YU.*

    • Out there where the reeds grow rank and tall,
    • One round he shoots, five wild boars fall.
    • Hail the Tsow Yu!
    • And there where the grass is waving high,
    • One round he shoots, five wild hogs die.
    • Hail the Tsow Yu!

Note.—Although this is one of the shortest and apparently most trivial of the Odes in the Book of Poetry, it is credited by the Chinese editors with as much meaning as the largest. It is regarded, like so many more, as illustrating the extent of the reformation brought about by King Wăn. Not only was the kingdom better ruled, society better regulated, and individuals more self-disciplined and improved in manners, but the reformation affected all things: vegetation flourished, game became most abundant, hunting was attended to at the right seasons, and the benign influence of the King was everywhere felt by the people. The poet thinks it is sufficient to dwell upon these last characteristics. Probably the lines were written after some royal hunt.

BOOK III.

THE ODES OF P‘EI.

P‘ei was one of three principalities which King Wu created after he overthrew the dynasty of Shang. It was in the north; and the two others were—Yung in the south, and Wei in the west. P‘ei and Yung were, after a short time, absorbed in Wei, which had a long history. We have, in Books III., IV. and V. titles taken from all three; but evidently the division is only artificial: the three Books might all have been included properly under the title Wei, since it is that State with which all are connected.

I. iii. 1.

DERELICT.*

    • The cedar boat is drifting,
    • On currents never still.
    • Sleepless I lie, vexed inly,
    • As with some unknown ill.
    • ’Tis not that wine is wanting,
    • Or leave to roam at will.
    • My heart is no mere mirror
    • That cannot comprehend.
    • Brothers I have, but may not
    • On brothers e’en depend.
    • Tush! when I go complaining
    • ’Tis only to offend.
    • No stone this heart of mine is,
    • That may be turned and rolled;
    • No mat this heart of mine is,
    • To fold or to unfold.
    • Steadfast and strict my life is;
    • Nought ’gainst it can be told.
    • Yet here I sit in sorrow,
    • Scorned by a rabble crew.
    • My troubles have been many,
    • My insults not a few.
    • Calmly I think—then, starting,
    • I beat my breast anew.
    • O moon, why now the brighter?*
    • O sun, why now dost wane?
    • My heart wears grief as garments
    • Inured to soil and stain.
    • Calmly I think—then, starting,
    • Would fly—but all in vain.

I. iii. 2.

SUPPLANTED.

    • Green now my robe!*
    • Green, lined with yellow.
    • Ah! when shall Grief
    • Be not my fellow!
    • Green is the robe;
    • Yellow the skirt!
    • Ah! when shall Grief
    • Nevermore hurt!
    • Green is the silk;
    • Ruled so by you.—
    • Guide me, ye ancients!
    • Harm lest I do.
    • Lawn, fine or coarse,
    • Chills in the wind.—
    • Guide me, ye ancients!
    • Save me my mind.

I. iii. 3.

FRIENDS IN DISTRESS.*

    • O the swallows onward flying,
    • Wings aslant, irregular!
    • O the lady homeward hieing;
    • O’er the wilds escort her far.
    • Gaze I till I gaze in vain,
    • And my tears are like the rain.
    • O the swallows onward flying,
    • Soaring upward, darting low!
    • O the lady homeward hieing;
    • Far then let her escort go.
    • Gaze I till I gaze in vain;
    • Long I stand and weep amain.
    • O the swallows onward flying,
    • High and low, with twittering mouth!
    • O the lady homeward hieing;
    • Far escort her to the South.
    • Gaze I till I gaze in vain,
    • And my heart scarce bears the pain.
    • Lady Chung —on love relying,
    • And of feelings true and deep,
    • Ever sweet and much-complying,
    • Strict, yet, self-respect to keep—
    • Thoughtful of the dead was she:
    • Bright example to poor me!

I. iii. 4.

CLOUDS GATHERING.*

    • O sun, O moon, ye downwards turn
    • To earth your glorious gaze.
    • But ah! that men there be like this,
    • Forsaking ancient ways!
    • Where can be peace? Alas, his glance
    • From me for ever strays!
    • O sun, O moon, this earth below
    • Hath you as crown above.
    • But ah, that men there be like this,
    • That give not love for love!
    • Where can be peace? Alas that he
    • Should so responseless prove!
    • O sun, O moon, that morn and eve
    • Rise in yon Eastern sky.
    • Alas that men there be like this,
    • Whose deeds fair words belie.
    • Where can be peace? Ah, better now
    • If memory could but die!
    • O sun, O moon, that morn and eve
    • Rise yonder in the East.
    • O parents mine! your charge of me
    • Hath not for ever ceased.
    • Where can be peace? For to my love
    • Responds he not the least.

I. iii. 5.

THE STORM.

    • Long, long the stormwind blew, and wild.—
    • He turned to look at me: he smiled;
    • But mockery was there, and scorn.
    • Ah, how my very heart was torn!
    • Long, long it blew, with dust for rain.—
    • “Be kind, and come to me again.”
    • He came not, neither went his way;
    • And long in pensive thought I lay.
    • On still it blew, with storm-clouds black;
    • Scarce light there was, so dense the pack.
    • Wakeful I lay, nor closed mine eyes;
    • And anxious thought brought fitful sighs.
    • Black and more black yet grew the gloom;
    • Then came loud thunder, boom on boom.
    • Awake I lay, all sleep was fled,
    • And anxious thought my fever fed.

I. iii. 6.

THE SOLDIER SIGHS FOR WIFE AND HOME.

    • When the beating of drums was heard around,
    • How we sprang to our weapons with leap and bound!
    • But the fields must have some, and the walls of Ts‘o* ;—
    • We alone to the South must a-marching go.
    • So we followed our leader Sun Tse-Chung,
    • And a peace there was made with Ch‘in and Sung.
    • But of homeward march is no sign as yet,
    • And our hearts are heavy, and pine and fret.
    • Ah! here we are lingering; here we stay;
    • And our steeds go wandering far astray;
    • And quest of them all must needs be made
    • Away in the depths of the woodland shade.
    • But, though far to be severed in death or life,
    • We are bound by the pledge each gave to his wife;
    • And we vowed, as we stood then hand in hand,
    • By each other in life’s last years to stand.
    • Alas! now wide is the gulf between!
    • And life to us now is a blank, I ween.
    • And, alas, for the plighted troth—so vain!
    • Untrue to our words we must aye remain.

I. iii. 7.

THE DISCONTENTED MOTHER.*

    • From the South the gladdening breezes blow
    • On the heart of that bush of thorn;
    • And the inmost leaves in it gaily grow.—
    • But the mother with care is worn.
    • From the South the gladdening breezes blow
    • On the twigs of that thorny tree.
    • And the mother is wise and good, but oh!
    • Bad and worthless men are we.
    • From the spring ’neath the walls of Tsun there runs
    • A cool and refreshing rill.
    • But the mother, though hers be seven sons,
    • Unrelieved here toils on still.
    • And the golden bright-eyed orioles
    • Wake their tuneful melodie.
    • But the mother’s heart no son consoles,
    • Though we seven around her be.

I. iii. 8.

SEPARATION.*

    • The male pheasant has taken his flight,
    • Yet leisurely moved he his wings!
    • Ah, to thee, my beloved, thyself
    • What sorrow this severance brings!
    • The male pheasant has taken his flight;
    • From below, from aloft, yet he cried.
    • Ah, true was my lord; and my heart
    • With its burden of sorrow is tried.
    • As I gaze at the sun and the moon,
    • Free rein to my thoughts I allow.
    • O the way, so they tell me, is long:
    • Tell me, how can be come to me now?
    • Wot ye not, then, ye gentlemen all,
    • Of his virtue and rectitude?
    • From all envy and enmity free,
    • What deed doth he other than good?

I. iii. 9.

UNTIMELY UNIONS.

    • The leaves of the gourd are yet sour* to the taste,
    • And the way through the ford is deep” (quoth she).
    • —“Deep be it, our garments we’ll raise to the waist,
    • Or shallow, then up to the knee” (quoth he).
    • “But the ford is full, and the waters rise.
    • Hark! a pheasant there, in alarm she cries.”
    • —“Nay, the ford when full would no axle wet;
    • And the pheasant but cackles to fetch her mate.”
    • “More sweet were the wildgoose’ cries to hear,
    • When the earliest streaks of the dawn appear;
    • And that is how men should seek their brides,—
    • (In the early spring) ere the ice divides.
    • The ferryman beckons and points to his boat:—
    • Let others cross over, I shall not.
    • The others may cross, but I say nay.
    • For a (true) companion here I stay.”

I. iii. 10.

LAMENT OF A DISCARDED WIFE.

    • When East winds blow unceasingly,
    • They bring but gloominess and rain.
    • Strive, strive to live unitedly,
    • And every angry thought restrain.
    • Some plants we gather for their leaves,
    • But leave the roots untouched beneath;
    • So, while unsullied was my name,
    • I should have lived with you till death.
    • With slow, slow step I took the road,
    • My inmost heart rebelling sore.
    • You came not far with me indeed,
    • You only saw me to the door.
    • Who calls the lettuce bitter fare?
    • The cress is not a whit more sweet.
    • Ay, feast there with your new-found bride,
    • Well-pleased, as when fond brothers meet.
    • The Wei, made turbid by the King,
    • Grows limpid by the islets there.
    • There, feasting with your new-found bride,
    • For me no longer now you care.
    • Yet leave to me my fishing-dam;
    • My wicker-nets—remove them not.
    • My person spurned,—some vacant hour
    • May bring compassion for my lot.
    • Where ran the river full and deep,
    • With raft or boat I paddled o’er;
    • And, where it flowed in shallower stream,
    • I dived or swam from shore to shore.
    • And what we had, or what we lost,
    • For that I strained my every nerve;
    • When other folks had loss, I’d crawl
    • Upon my knees, if aught ’twould serve.
    • And you can show me no kind care,
    • Nay, treated like a foe am I!
    • My virtue stood but in your way,
    • Like traders’ goods that none will buy.
    • Once it was feared we could not live;
    • In your reverses then I shared;
    • And now, when fortune smiles on you,
    • To very poison I’m compared.
    • I have laid by a goodly store,—
    • For winter’s use it was to be;—
    • Feast on there with your new-found bride,—
    • I was for use in poverty!
    • Rude fits of anger you have shown,
    • Now left me to be sorely tried.
    • Ah, you forget those days gone by,
    • When you came nestling to my side!

I. iii. 11.

A PRINCE AND HIS OFFICERS IN TROUBLE.*

    • Fallen so low, so low!
    • Wherefore not homeward go?
    • And we,—how could we for our chief refuse
    • Exposure to the nightly dews?
    • Fallen so low, so low!
    • Wherefore not homeward go?
    • And did we not our chief himself require,
    • How lived we here in mud and mire?

I. iii. 12.

LI FINDS NO HELP IN WEI.*

    • How have the creepers on the crested slope
    • Crept with their tendrils far and wide!
    • And O, ye foster-fathers of our land,
    • How have our days here multiplied!
    • Why is there never movement made?
    • Comes surely some expected aid.
    • Why is this long, protracted pause?
    • ’Tis surely not without a cause.
    • With foxfurs worn and frayed, without our cars,
    • Came we not Eastward here to you?
    • O ye, the foster-fathers of our land,
    • Will ye have nought with us to do?
    • A shattered remnant, last of all our host,
    • But waifs and vagabonds are we!
    • And ye, the foster-fathers of our land,
    • Smile on, but deaf ye seem to be!

I. iii. 13.

BUFFOONERY AT COURT.

    • Calm and cool, see him advance!
    • Now for posturing and dance,—
    • While the sun’s in middle sky,—
    • There in front of platform high!
    • See him, corpulent and tall,
    • Capering in that ducal hall!
    • Tiger-like in strength of limb,—
    • Reins like ribbons were to him!
    • Left hand now the flute assumes,*
    • Right hand grasps the pheasant’s plumes;
    • Red, as though with rouge, the face.
    • “Give him liquor!” cries His Grace.
    • There are hazels on the hill,
    • There is fungus in the fen.
    • Say to whom my thoughts then flee.—
    • To those fine West-country men.
    • Those are admirable men!
    • The West-country men for me!

I. iii. 14.

HOMESICK.§

    • Fain are those waters to be free,
    • Leaving their spring to join the K‘i.
    • So yearns my heart for thee, dear Wei;—
    • No day but there in thought I fly.
    • Here are my cousins, kind are they:
    • O, before these my plans I’ll lay.
    • On leaving home I lodged in Tsi.
    • And drank the god-speed cup in Ni.*
    • Maids, when their wedding trip they take,
    • Parents and brothers all forsake.
    • Yet let me go my aunts to greet;
    • Let me my elder sisters meet.
    • And, leaving here, I’d lodge in Kan,
    • Then drink the god-speed cup in Yen.
    • Oil me then well my axles, O!
    • Back in my carriage let me go.
    • Soon should I be in Wei;—but oh!
    • Were I not wrong in acting so?
    • Ah!—For that land of fertile streams
    • Long do I sigh in waking dreams.
    • So when I think of Siu and Ts‘o,
    • Full is my heart, to overflow.
    • Drove I but forth to wander there,
    • Then were unbosomed all my care.

I. iii. 15.

OFFICIAL HARDSHIPS.

    • Out by the northern gate§ I go my way,
    • Bearing a load of sorrow and of care;
    • Vulgarly poor am I, and sore bestead,
    • And of my hardships all are unaware.
    • Ah, so indeed!
    • Yet Heaven hath so decreed;
    • What therefore can I say?
    • On me devolves the business of the king,
    • On me official burdens fast encroach;
    • On me, at home, arriving from abroad,
    • My household all conspire to heap reproach
    • Ah, so indeed!
    • Yet Heaven hath so decreed;
    • What therefore can I say?
    • All urgent is the business of the king;
    • Official cares press on me more and more.
    • And when at home, arriving from abroad,
    • My household one and all thrust at me sore.
    • Ah, so indeed,
    • Yet Heaven hath so decreed;
    • What therefore can I say?

I. iii. 16.

EMIGRANTS.*

    • Cold north winds are blowing,
    • Heavy falls the snow.
    • Friend, thy hand, if thou art friendly!
    • Forth together let us go.
    • Long, too long, we loiter here:
    • Times are too severe.
    • How the north wind whistles,
    • Driving snow and sleet!
    • Friend, thy hand, if thou art friendly!
    • Let us, thou and I, retreat.
    • Long, too long, we loiter here:
    • Times are too severe.
    • Nothing red, but foxes!*
    • Nothing black, but crows!
    • Friend, thy hand, if thou art friendly!
    • Come with me—my waggon goes.
    • Long, too long, we loiter here:
    • Times are too severe.

I. iii. 17.

IRREGULAR LOVE-MAKING.

    • A modest maiden, passing fair to see,
    • Waits at the corner of the wall for me.
    • I love her, yet I have no interview:—
    • I scratch my head—I know not what to do.
    • The modest maid—how winsome was she then,
    • The day she gave me her vermilion pen!
    • Vermilion pen was never yet so bright,—
    • The maid’s own loveliness is my delight.
    • Now from the pasture lands she sends a shoot
    • Of couchgrass fair; and rare it is, to boot.
    • Yet thou, my plant (when beauties I compare),
    • Art but the fair one’s gift, and not the Fair!

I. iii. 18.

THE NEW TOWER.*

    • Past the New Tower, so spick and span,
    • The Ho majestic rolled.
    • There she who sought a gallant mate
    • Found one deformed and old.
    • ’Neath the New Tower’s high battlements
    • The Ho ran smooth and still.
    • She sought a gallant mate, and lo!
    • A shapeless imbecile!
    • The net was ready for a fish,
    • A goose there came instead.
    • And she who sought a gallant mate,
    • Must with this hunchback wed.

I. iii. 19.

THE TWO SONS.

    • Two youths there were, each took his boat,
    • That floated, mirrored in the stream;—
    • And O the fear for those two youths,
    • And O the anxiety extreme!
    • Two youths they were, each took his boat,
    • And floated on the stream away;—
    • And O the fear for those two youths;
    • If harmed, yet innocent were they.

BOOK IV.

THE ODES OF YUNG.*

I. iv. 1.

THE FAITHFUL WIDOW.

    • There let it rock, the boat of yew,
    • Midway upon the Ho.
    • One with the twin front locks (I knew)—
    • My rightful mate—and all life through
    • I vow none else to know.
    • My mother, kind as Heaven§ is she,
    • Yet O, she little knows of me!
    • There let it rock, that boat of yew,
    • Now by the river’s brim.
    • One with the twin front locks I knew—
    • One only—and I vow to do
    • Till death no wrong to him.
    • My mother, kind as Heaven is she,
    • Yet O, she little knows of me!

I. iv. 2.

VILE DOINGS AT COURT.*

    • On the wall when the thorn-crop clambers,
    • No brushing will break its hold.
    • And the tales of my lady’s chambers
    • Are such as may ne’er be told.
    • What might be told
    • Would the vilest scenes unfold.
    • On the wall where the thorn-crop clambers,
    • It cannot be banished well.
    • On the tales of my lady’s chambers
    • One may not minutely dwell.
    • On all to dwell
    • Were a weary tale to tell.
    • On the wall when the thorn-crop clambers,
    • Who’ll bind and bear it away?
    • And the tales of my lady’s chambers
    • Who’ll venture to sing or say?
    • To sing or say
    • The whole, were a shameful lay.

I. iv. 3.

FAINT PRAISE.*

    • A ruler’s wife—to the end of life!
    • See her the queenly head-dress wear,—
    • Six jewelled pins within the hair;
    • What elegance, what grace is there,
    • The grace of nature’s hills and streams!
    • And O, the figured robe her form beseems.
    • Yet, with her morals all amiss,
    • What make we of the like of this!
    • How rich and rare, how rich and rare
    • Is her festal robe,—like pheasants’ plumes!
    • And like a cloud her black hair looms.
    • False locks she scorns, nor e’er assumes.
    • Of precious stones her ear-plugs are;
    • A comb of ivory binds her hair;
    • Her lofty forehead, O so white and fair!
    • Ah so! celestial, sure, is she!
    • Ah so! then O—the Deity!
    • How brilliantly, how brilliantly
    • Her robes of ceremony shine,
    • Worn o’er the crape and lawn so fine,
    • While for her warmth the whole combine.
    • Arched are her brows, and bright her eyes,
    • And broad and full her temples nobly rise.
    • Ha, clearly such a one may stand,
    • For beauty, foremost in the land!

I. iv. 4.

PROMISCUOUS LOVE-MAKING.

    • When I go to pluck the dodder,*
    • Fields and lanes of Mei among,
    • Guess you where my thoughts there wander?
    • To the fair—the eldest Kiang.
    • Tryst she gave me at Sang-chung,§
    • Was to meet me at Shang-kung;
    • And would see me to K‘i-shang.
    • When I go a-gathering wheat-ears,
    • North of Mei’s the place for me.
    • Guess you where my thoughts there wander?
    • To the fair—the eldest Yih.
    • Tryst she gave me at Sang-chung;
    • Was to meet me at Shang-kung;
    • And would see me to K‘i-shang.
    • When I go to crop the shallots,
    • East of Mei I lounge along.
    • Guess you where my thoughts there wander?
    • To the fair—the eldest Yung.
    • Tryst she gave me at Sang-chung;
    • Was to meet me at Shang-kung;
    • And would see me to K‘i-shang.

I. iv. 5.

FAMILY CONFUSION.*

    • Quails consort and fly with quails,
    • Jays will only join with jays;—
    • I must own as elder brother
    • One who takes to wanton ways.
    • Jay will only have his jay,
    • Quail goes with his consort quail;—
    • One who takes to wanton courses
    • I must as “my lady” hail.

I. iv. 6.

THE DILIGENT RULER.

    • When Ting had reached its highest point,
    • Then ’gan he build Ts‘u’s palace walls;
    • The sun he took for compass true,§
    • Then ’gan he build Ts‘u’s palace halls;
    • Planted the hazel then, and chestnut-tree,
    • Dryandras, hardwoods, and the varnish-tree,
    • Anon to cut for lutes —for minstrelsie!
    • He climbed yon ancient ruined walls,*
    • That thence he might his Ts‘u behold:
    • There lay before him Ts‘u and T‘ang,
    • High hills and eminences bold;
    • Descended then and viewed the mulberry ground,
    • Asked of the oracle, good omens found,
    • And in the end with true success was crowned.
    • Then when the genial rains had fall’n,
    • He’d bid his groom, while yet ’twas night
    • And stars were shining, drive him forth,
    • And in the mulberry lands alight.
    • And yet indeed his people were not all§
    • That for his watchful diligence would call:
    • Three thousand mares he reared, and stallions tall!

I. iv. 7.

REFORMS IN LOVE AND MARRIAGE.

    • When comes a rainbow in the East,
    • None dares to raise a finger;
    • For maidens now go forth and wed,
    • Nor with the home-folk linger.
    • And when at morn one spans the West,
    • Ere noon the rain will tarry;*
    • But maidens leave the home-folk now,
    • And go their ways and marry.
    • But oh, what kind of folk are those,
    • For marriage always yearning,
    • While greatly lacking faith and trust,
    • Nor laws of Heaven discerning!

I. iv. 8.

MANNERS MAKE THE MAN.

    • See, even a rat hath hide and hair;
    • And is a man of manners bare?
    • Nay, sure, a man of manners bare
    • More fitly dead than living were!
    • See in the rat how tooth fits tooth!§
    • And shall a man appear-uncouth?
    • Nay, better than be thus uncouth,
    • To look for death, not life, forsooth!
    • See the rat’s form—from tail to head.
    • And shall a man appear ill-bred?
    • Nay, if a man be so ill-bred,
    • More soon the better were he dead!

I. iv. 9.

HONOUR TO THE WORTHY.*

    • High they raise the oxtail-pennons,
    • There on Tsun’s suburban moor,
    • Staffs all wreathed with white silk wreathing;
    • Noble teams to meet him—four!
    • Yonder worthy, what will he
    • Render for their courtesie!
    • High they raise the falcon-banners,
    • Nearer to the town they drive,
    • Staffs all wreathed with white silk ribbons,
    • Noble teams to meet him—five!
    • Yonder worthy, what shall he
    • Give them for their courtesie!
    • High they raise the feathered streamers,
    • Now upon the walls to fix,—
    • Staffs all wreathed with white silk bandlets,—
    • Now the noble teams are six!
    • Yonder worthy, how shall he
    • Answer to their courtesie!

I. iv. 10.

THWARTED.

    • O forth would I gallop and homeward fly
    • To cheer in his trouble my lord of Wei;
    • And urging my steeds the livelong day
    • Ts‘o’s city would reach without delay.
    • But an officer hies o’er stream and plain,
    • And I, to my sorrow, must needs remain.
    • My pleasure, it seems, is not your own;
    • My hopes of return ye have overthrown.
    • Yet, though it is plain ye disapprove,
    • The thoughts of my heart no power can move
    • My pleasure is not your own, it seems,
    • And now can I not recross the streams.
    • Yet, though ye approve not, as ’tis plain,
    • The thoughts of my heart can none restrain.
    • I’d climb to the top of yonder hill,
    • And gather the lily that care can kill.*
    • We women are full of wants (ye say),
    • And every want must have its way.
    • But wrong are ye there, ye men of Hiu;
    • And childish and headstrong all are you!
    • I’d travel across the wide, wide plain,
    • Now clad in its rich long waving grain,
    • And make my appeal to the sovereign State;
    • For whose is the cause—the need so great?
    • Ye officers, ye of high degree,
    • Say not that the error lay with me:
    • For the counsels of all of you combined
    • Fall short of the course I had in mind.

BOOK V.

THE ODES OF WEI.

I. v. 1.

PRAISE OF DUKE WU OF WEI. (bc 811-757.)

    • See in that nook, where bends the K‘i,
    • The green bamboos, how graceful grown!
    • Ay, and a gifted prince have we,
    • Polished,—as by the knife and file,
    • The graving-tool, the smoothing-stone!
    • What grace, what dignity is there!
    • What splendour, bruited everywhere!
    • A gifted prince indeed have we,
    • And ne’er forgotten shall he be.
    • See in that nook, where bends the K‘i,
    • The green bamboos, so stout, so fine!
    • Ay, and a gifted prince have we:—
    • Rare costly stones his ears adorn,
    • Gems on his bonnet starlike shine!
    • What grace, what dignity is there!
    • What splendour, bruited everywhere!
    • A gifted prince indeed have we,
    • And ne’er forgotten shall he be.
    • See in that nook, where bends the K‘i,
    • The green bamboos, how thick they stand!
    • Ay, and a gifted prince have we:
    • Pure as the gold or tin refined,
    • Sound as the sceptre in his hand!
    • What ease, what freedom in his gait!
    • Yet see him in his car of state!
    • In pleasantry and jest expert,
    • Withal so careful none to hurt!

I. v. 2.

THE HAPPY RECLUSE.*

    • His cabin rearing by the mountain stream,
    • There the great man finds freedom now:
    • There all alone he muses night and day,§
    • Ne’er false to his perpetual vow.
    • His cabin rearing on the mountain side,
    • There the great man his pleasure takes:
    • There all alone he sings both night and day.
    • Nor e’er his life-long vow forsakes.
    • His cabin rearing there among the hills,
    • The great man’s world is that alone:
    • There by himself he sojourns night and day,
    • Nor lets his life-long vow be known.

I. v. 8.

AN EPITHALAMIUM.*

    • Stately her person—tall and fair,
    • Clad in her robes embroidered and plain:—
    • Child of the lord of Ts‘i,
    • Bride of the lord of Wei,
    • Sister of one who is Ts‘i’s next heir,
    • Sister of wife of the lord of Hing,
    • Same of the lord of the T‘an domain!
    • Fingers, as softest buds that grow!
    • Skin, as an unguent, firm and white!
    • Neck, as the tree-worm’s breed!
    • Teeth, as the gourd’s white seed!
    • Mantis’ front, and the silk-moth brow!
    • Dimples playing in witching smile;
    • Beautiful eyes, so dark, so bright!
    • Stately in person—proud and free,
    • Halts she awhile in the lands close by,
    • Her four male steeds, full-fed,
    • Bright in their trappings red;
    • Screened by her plumes, then to court comes she.
    • Haste, ye councillors, quick depart;
    • Do not your chieftain’s patience try!
    • Wide and deep is the river, the Ho,
    • Northwards flowing, majestic, grand.
    • Broad nets splash for a haul!
    • Sturgeons are in, big and small!
    • Tall, too, its reeds and sedges grow.—
    • Richly adorned are her maids, the Kiang!
    • Martial the men that round her stand!

I. v. 4.

BETRAYED.*

    • Rustic simpleton you seemed,
    • Hawking cloth, for silk to sell;
    • ’Twas for no such thing you came,
    • ’Twas to me your plan to tell:
    • Would I cross with you the K‘i?
    • Would I follow to Tun K‘iu?
    • Would I not forego the time?
    • No good go-between had you.—
    • Nay, but be not wroth, I cried;
    • Let it be at harvest-tide.
    • Yonder ruined walls I’d climb
    • For a glimpse of far Fu-kwan;
    • When Fu-kwan I could not see,
    • Down the tears incessant ran;
    • When Fu-kwan had been in sight,
    • Ah, how I would laugh and cry!
    • You were questioning the straws;§
    • “Nothing wrong” they gave reply:—
    • You must with your waggon come,
    • I must pack, and with you home.
    • Ere the mulberry leaves are fall’n,
    • They are fresh and fair to see.
    • Ah for thee, thou little dove!*
    • Eat not fruit upon that tree.
    • Ah for thee, thou tender maid!
    • Dally not with gentlemen.
    • Gentlemen may do rash deeds,
    • Yet be pardoned even then;
    • Maidens, if they do the same,
    • Never can escape the blame.
    • When the mulberry leaves are cast,
    • Yellow fall they from the tree.
    • After joining you, three years
    • Ate I bread of poverty.
    • Foamed the K‘i, and reached the hood
    • Of my (then returning) cart.
    • Never change had been in me:
    • ’Twas your own divided heart!
    • For restraints you could not brook,
    • And to changeful courses took.
    • Three years lived I as your wife;
    • Nought for household toil I cared:
    • Early rising, late to sleep,
    • Never morning was there spared.
    • So did I my vow fulfil,
    • Till began your cruelty;
    • And my brothers do not know,
    • And they only laugh at me.
    • On my silent thought I’m thrown,
    • Bearing all my hurt alone.
    • “Live united to old age?”
    • Age to me but discord yields.
    • By its banks the K‘i is held,
    • By their bounds the swampy fields.
    • O my happy maiden days!
    • Days of mirth and converse sweet.
    • —Daily true, yet, to that vow,
    • Never dreamt I of retreat.
    • Thought of breaking it I’d none;
    • Yet, ah me! ’tis done, ’tis done!

I. v. 5.

HOME RECOLLECTIONS.*

    • Rods of long and lithe bamboo,
    • Used for angling in the K‘i,
    • Go not back my thoughts to you,
    • Now too far away to see?
    • To the left the Fountains flow,
    • To the right that river K‘i.
    • Ah, when maids a-marrying go,
    • Parents, brothers, far must be.
    • To the right that river K‘i,
    • To the left those purling Springs.
    • Sweet bright smiles (I seem to see),
    • Thinkling gems on girdle strings,
    • And the K‘i’s swift waters bear
    • Boats of pine with oars of yew.
    • O to drive and wander there,
    • Then my frettings would be few!

I. v. 6.

A CONCEITED LORDLING.

    • O the sparrow-gourd* its pod (would show)!
    • At the stripling’s girdle a bodkin see!
    • The bodkin may at his girdle be,
    • Yet of us can the stripling nothing know.
    • What calm conceit, what a swaggering air!
    • With ends of his girdle dangling there!
    • O the sparrow-gourd is now in leaf!
    • At the stripling’s waist is an archer’s ring!
    • Let him wear at his waist the archer’s ring,
    • Over us can a stripling ne’er be chief.
    • What calm conceit, what a swaggering air!
    • With ends of his girdle dangling there!

I. v. 7.

SO FAR, AND YET SO NEAR.§

    • Who saith the Ho is wide?
    • A single rush will span it.
    • Who saith that Sung is far?
    • On tiptoe I can scan it.
    • Who saith the Ho is wide?
    • —E’en narrow boats impeding!
    • Who saith that Sung is far?
    • —Not a morning walk exceeding!

I. v. 8.

THE ABSENT HERO-HUSBAND.

    • My lord, a warrior bold is he,
    • The hero of the land!
    • Before his king he speedeth on,
    • With spear and lance in hand.
    • Since East he went, my hair has flown
    • Like flax-weed in the breeze.
    • I might anoint and dress it now,
    • —But whom were this to please?
    • ‘Come rain, come rain!’ yet still the sun
    • Appears in cloudless sky.
    • Thoughts of my lord my fond heart fill,
    • My head, too, sorely try.
    • O for the herb that memory kills,
    • To plant behind my wall!
    • Thoughts of my lord my fond heart fill,
    • And anguish are they all.

I. v. 9.

WIFELESS AND FORLORN.*

    • Poor fox, so friendless
    • There by the weir across the K‘i!
    • Ah me, ’twas pity
    • The goodman trouserless to see!
    • Poor fox, so friendless,
    • There as the K‘i’s deep ford he faced
    • Ah me, the pity!
    • No girdle had he to his waist.
    • Poor fox, so friendless,
    • There by the margin of the K‘i!
    • Ah me, the pity!
    • For garments none at all had he!

I. v. 10.

RECOMPENSE.

    • Some quinees once to me were sent,
    • A ruby* was my gift again;
    • Yet not as gift again;—
    • Enduring love was its intent.
    • Peaches were sent me; I a stone
    • Of jasper sent as gift again;
    • Nay, not as gift again,—
    • Enduring love it meant alone.
    • Plums I had sent me; and I sent
    • A dusky gem for gift again;
    • Yet not as gift again;
    • But long enduring love it meant.

BOOK VI.

THE ODES OF THE ROYAL DOMAIN.*

I. vi. 1.

THE DESOLATED CAPITALS: LAMENT OF A STATESMAN.

    • Rice here drooping lowly,
    • Millet there in blade;
    • Wandering through them slowly,
    • I was sore dismayed.
    • Said the folks who knew me,
    • I with sorrow fought;
    • Folks who did not know me
    • Asked if aught I sought.
    • Powers of azure Heaven’s abyss!
    • Who, alas! was cause of this?
    • Rice here drooping lowly,
    • Millet there in ear;*
    • Wandering through them slowly,
    • Drunk I might appear.
    • Said the folks who knew me,
    • I with sorrow fought;
    • Folks who did not know me
    • Asked if aught I sought.
    • Powers of azure Heaven’s abyss!
    • Who, alas! was cause of this?
    • Rice here drooping lowly,
    • Millet there in grain;
    • Still I wandered slowly,
    • As in stifling pain.
    • Said the folks who knew me,
    • I with sorrow fought;
    • Folks who did not know me
    • Asked me what I sought.
    • Powers of azure Heaven’s abyss!
    • Who, alas! was cause of this?

I. vi. 2.

THE HUSBAND ABROAD.

    • My good man is a-marching gone:
    • No knowing when his term expires.
    • Ah! whither wends he now?
    • The rooster to his ledge retires
    • As day draws on to its decline,
    • And from the hill come goats and kine.
    • My goodman is a-marching gone:
    • How should I cease these musings then of mine?
    • My goodman is a-marching gone:
    • Not days, not months—no certain time.
    • When shall we meet again?
    • The roosters to their perches climb,
    • As days their lengthening shadows throw
    • And goats and kine are housed below.
    • My goodman is a-marching gone;
    • O could he never thirst nor hunger know!

I. vi. 3.

THE HUSBAND RETURNED.

    • The goodman is now at his ease, content!
    • His left hand holding an instrument,*
    • He beckons me forward with his right
    • To the (music) room. And O the delight!
    • The goodman is happy: no happier man!
    • His left hand holding the feathered fan,
    • He beckons me forward with his right
    • To the (dancing) stage. And O the delight!

I. vi. 4.

HOME-LONGINGS OF THE FRONTIER-GUARDSMEN.

    • The pent-up waters
    • Float not away the faggots placed therein.
    • And yonder dear ones!
    • We miss them keeping watch and ward in Shin.
    • How long! how long! so do we yearn
    • To know the month of our return.
    • Ye pent-up waters!
    • Bundles of thorns rest motionless on you.
    • And yonder dear ones!
    • We miss them keeping watch and ward in Fu.
    • How long! how long! so do we yearn
    • To know the month of our return.
    • Ye pent-up waters!
    • Bundles of rushes idly rest on you.
    • And yonder dear ones!
    • We miss them keeping watch and ward in Hiu.
    • How long! how long! so do we yearn
    • To know the month of our return.

I. vi. 5.

THE WIFE DIVORCED BY FAMINE*

    • In the midst of the vale the motherwort grows;
    • All parched on the waterless ground.
    • There a woman away from her husband goes;
    • Ah, hear her sighs!
    • Ah, hear her sighs!
    • Hard times with her man she has found.
    • In the midst of the vale the motherwort grows;
    • All parched where it grew so tall.
    • There a woman away from her husband goes,
    • With long, loud moans,
    • With long, loud moans!
    • Upon her his misfortunes fall.
    • In the midst of the vale the motherwort grows;
    • All parched in the spots once wet.
    • There a woman away from her husband goes,—
    • Tears rolling down,
    • Tears rolling down!
    • And, alas! what awaits her yet!

I. vi. 6.

A WEARIED STATESMAN.*

    • Wily were the hares;
    • Pheasants came to net.
    • In my early days
    • Cares I never met;
    • While my later life
    • Meets with all these ills.
    • Welcome were that sleep
    • That all trouble kills!
    • Wily were the hares;
    • Pheasants took the bait.
    • In my early days
    • Calm was every State;
    • On my later life
    • Come these hundred woes.
    • Welcome were that sleep
    • That no waking knows!
    • Wily were the hares;
    • Pheasants were decoyed.
    • All my early days
    • Lived I unemployed;
    • On my later life
    • Fall these hundred cares.
    • Welcome were that sleep
    • That the senses spares!

I. vi. 7.

THE EMIGRANT.

    • There intertwine the creepers fine
    • Beside the Ho luxuriantly.*
    • Through life I roam far from my home,
    • And call a stranger father,
    • And call a stranger father,
    • Yet none will turn to look on me.
    • There intertwine the creepers fine,
    • And the Ho’s banks they overrun.
    • Through life I roam far from my home,
    • And call a stranger mother,
    • And call a stranger mother,
    • Yet none will take me for a son.
    • There intertwine the creepers fine,
    • And o’er the Ho’s steep bank they crawl.
    • Through life I roam, far from my home,
    • And call a stranger brother,
    • And call a stranger brother,
    • Yet none will listen to my call.

I. vi. 8.

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER.

    • Ha, there he crops the creepers,* see!
    • One only day, with him away,
    • Is aye three months to me!
    • Ha, there he crops the fragrant grass!
    • Be he away one only day,
    • Three autumns seem to pass!
    • Ha, there the mugwort now he clears!
    • One only day, with him away,
    • Is aye to me three years!

I. vi. 9.

WHY SHE CAME NOT.

    • His grand carriage—hark, how it is rumbling!
    • The furred robes, green-emblazoned,§ are there!
    • Are my thoughts, then, to thee never turning?
    • But I fear him, and nothing must dare.
    • Slowly, pond’rously moves his grand carriage,—
    • His furred robes as with garnets bedight.
    • Are my thoughts, then, to thee never turning?
    • Fear of him makes me halt in my flight.
    • Though in life we have separate dwellings,
    • Yet in death in one grave may we lie.
    • Call me faithless, yet still am I faithful,
    • While* the sun yonder shines in the sky!

I. vi. 10.

THE LOITERING LOVERS.

    • Amid the hemp along the hill,
    • Tse-tsië must there be loitering still,
    • Tse-tsië must there be loitering still:
    • Would he but come, my heart with joy to thrill!
    • Along the hill amid the wheat—
    • Tse-kwŏ is there, why lag his feet?
    • Tse-kwŏ is there, why lag his feet?
    • Would he but come to me and sit and eat!
    • Where on the hill the plum-trees grow
    • My swains are loitering, why so slow?
    • My swains are loitering, why so slow?
    • And each has girdle-trinkets to bestow!

BOOK VII.

THE ODES OF CH‘ING.*

I. vii. 1.

DEVOTION OF THE PEOPLE TO DUKE WU OF CH‘ING.

    • O the jet-black robes, how becoming they are!
    • And when these are outworn we will others prepare.
    • And where lodgeth our prince we’ll attend;
    • And, returning, a feast to him send.
    • O the jet-black robes, they are goodly and grand!
    • And when these are outworn, we’ll have others in hand.
    • And where lodgeth our prince we’ll attend;
    • And, returning, a feast to him send.
    • O the jet-black robes, how his figure they grace!
    • And when these are outworn, shall be more in their place.
    • And where lodgeth our prince we’ll attend;
    • And, returning, a feast to him send.

I. vii. 2.

MASTER CHUNG.*

    • Master Chung would better please,
    • Came he not with sudden bounds
    • Trespassing within our grounds,
    • Broke he not our willow-trees.
    • Not that much I care for these:
    • ’Tis my parents that I fear.
    • Chung is doubtless very dear,
    • What yet would the parents say?
    • That I also have to fear.
    • Master Chung would better please,
    • Came he not with sudden sprawl
    • Climbing o’er our garden wall,
    • Broke he not our mulberry-trees.
    • Not that much I care for these:
    • ’Tis my brothers that I fear.
    • Chung is doubtless very dear,
    • What yet would my brothers say?
    • That I also have to fear.
    • Master Chung would better please,
    • If still nearer came he not—
    • Bounding o’er the garden plot,
    • Broke he not our sandal-trees.
    • Not that much I care for these:
    • ’Tis the people’s talk I fear.
    • Chung is doubtless very dear,
    • What yet would the people say?
    • That I also have to fear.

I. vii. 3.

A DASHING, POPULAR YOUNG HUNTER.

    • When Shuh* goes to the meet,
    • There’s ne’er a man left in the street.
    • Nay, scarce may that be true,—
    • Yet none there is like Shuh,
    • In grace and manliness complete.
    • When Shuh goes to the chase,
    • No feasting is there in the place.
    • Nay, scarce may that be true,—
    • Yet none there is like Shuh,
    • For right good-fellowship and grace.
    • When Shuh goes to the plains,
    • No horsemen are there in the lanes.
    • Nay, scarce may that be true,—
    • Yet never one like Shuh
    • For grace and dash indeed remains.

I. vii. 4.

THE SAME.

    • Away goeth Shuh to the plains:
    • He is mounted and off with his team;
    • And like ribbons to him are the reins,
    • And his off-steeds dancers would seem!
    • See him now in the jungle alight;
    • See the fires* all blazing up bright;—
    • Body bared, on a tiger he springs!
    • To the duke the brave offering he brings!
    • Yet, O Shuh, be less rash with thine arm:
    • And beware, lest one do thee some harm.
    • Away goeth Shuh to the hunt:
    • He is mounted and off with his bays;
    • With his inner pair well to the front,
    • And the outer—wild-geese in their ways!
    • See him now in the jungle appear;
    • See the fires all ablaze far and near;—
    • O an excellent archer is Shuh;
    • And a good one at horsemanship too!
    • See him gallop, and draw up his steed,
    • Shoot his arrow, and after it speed!
    • Away to the hunt he is gone:
    • He is mounted and off with his greys;
    • And his inner ones’ heads seem as one,
    • While the outer like wings he arrays!
    • See him there in the jungle once more;
    • Hear the masses of flame, how they roar!
    • —Now less quickly he urges his steeds,
    • And more seldom the arrow he needs;
    • And the quiver he now doth unbrace,
    • And the bow give again to its case.

I. vii. 5.

IDLE MANŒUVRING ON THE BORDERS.*

    • The men of Ts‘ing were quartered first in P‘ang;
    • And there the mail-clad teams dashed to and fro.
    • From spear and lance the double plumes would hang.
    • And idly hovered all upon the Ho.
    • The men of Ts‘ing were quartered next in Siau:
    • There were the mail-clad teams in brave array.
    • The spear and lance their hooks were showing now!
    • There by the Ho the time was spent in play!
    • The men of Ts‘ing were quartered last in Chuh:
    • There, too, the mail-clad teams pranced merrilie.
    • The right wing wheeled, the left its weapons drew;
    • The leader in the midst—how proud was he!

I. vii. 6.

PRAISE OF A HIGH OFFICIAL.

    • Clad in his lamb’s-fur, as with unguent shining,
    • Strictly in form, and befitting his estate,—
    • Mark ye the statesman, heart and will resigning
    • Duty to stand to, ne’er to deviate!
    • Clad in his lamb’s-fur, panther-skin at border,
    • Speaking of martial prowess and of might,—
    • Mark ye the statesman: he it is will order
    • Trusts of his country ably and aright
    • Clad in his lamb’s-fur, there in all its beauty
    • Brightly adorned with the honour-badges three.
    • Mark ye the statesman: skilled in every duty,
    • Right worthy servant of his land is he!

I. vii. 7.

OLD LOVE SHOULD NOT BE RUPTURED.

    • O I followed down the highway;
    • O I grasped and held him by the sleeve;
    • And I cried, “O do not hate me,
    • Nor so quick thine old companion leave!”
    • O I followed down the highway;
    • O I grasped and held his hands in mine;
    • And I cried, “O do not spurn me,
    • Nor thy love so hastily resign!”

I. vii. 8.

THE GOOD HOUSEWIFE.

    • The cocks are crowing,” quoth the wife;
    • “The dawn scarce glimmers yet,” quoth he.—
    • “But rise, and see how goes the night:
    • The morning star shines brilliantly;
    • Out and about! Go, take thy bow:
    • Wild ducks and geese are waiting thee!
    • “And of the game thine arrow hits,
    • I’ll make for thee a fit repast;
    • And o’er it we will drink the cup,
    • ‘To live, as one, while life shall last.’
    • And, lutes in hand, nought else shall be
    • But peace and happy harmony.
    • “And when I know whom thou wouldst have to see thee,
    • My girdle-pendants* with me they shall share;
    • And when I know whom thou dost find congenial,
    • Like offerings also I will bid them wear;
    • And when I know whom thou hast found to love thee,
    • Still more for their requital I will spare.”

I. vii. 9.

MY LADY’S CHARMS.

    • In the carriage I ride,
    • A young wife at my side,
    • With a face like the hedge-rose fair;
    • And we ramble at will,
    • And mine eyes roam still
    • To the gems at her girdle there.
    • O handsome is she, the eldest Kiang,—
    • Handsome truly, and debonair.
    • And when walking I go
    • She is with me, and O
    • Like the hedge-rose blooms her face;
    • And in rambling around
    • I can hear the sound
    • Of the gems that her girdle grace.
    • O handsome is she, the eldest Kiang,—
    • Her good name shall no time efface!

I. vii. 10.

BY-PLAY.*

    • For the hill the myrtle-tree,
    • For the swamp the water-lily.
    • No Tse-tu see I for me,
    • Only some one crazed and silly!
    • For the hill the stately fir,
    • For the swamp the dragon-vetch.§
    • No Tse-ch‘ung‡ see I astir,
    • Only you,—sly little wretch!

I. vii. 11.

AN APPEAL.

    • Fading, fading tree!
    • Winds thy leaves will strew.
    • O good sirs, good sirs!
    • Lead,—we follow you.
    • Fading, fading tree!
    • Sport of winds when high.
    • O good sirs, good sirs!
    • Lead,—and we comply.

I. vii. 12.

TIT FOR TAT.

    • O the artful boy!
    • Now so dumb to me whene’er we meet.
    • And for his sole sake
    • I must be unable now to eat!
    • O the artful boy!
    • Now no more to be my table-guest;
    • And for his sole sake
    • I must be unable now to rest!

I. vii. 13.

A CHALLENGE.

    • If, boy, thy thoughts of me were kind,
    • I’d lift my skirts and wade the Tsin;
    • But if thou be of other mind,
    • Is there none else my love would win?
    • O craziest of crazy boys!
    • Ay, if thy thoughts of me were kind,
    • I’d lift my skirts and wade the Wai;
    • But if thy thoughts are else inclined,
    • Is there none other gallant nigh?
    • O craziest of crazy boys!

I. vii. 14.

REGRETS.

    • O so handsome looked my swain,
    • Waiting for me in the lane!
    • O I rue he came in vain.
    • Noblest looked he of them all,
    • As he waited in the hall!
    • O I rue I shunned his call.
    • O’er broidered robe and broidered skirt
    • My mantle I will throw.
    • And then, good sirs, good sirs, my steeds!
    • And with him I will go.
    • O’er broidered skirt and broidered robe
    • The mantle I have thrown.
    • So now, good sirs, good sirs, my steeds!
    • His home shall be my own.

I. vii. 15.

SO NEAR, AND YET SO FAR.

    • Beyond the East-gate, where the space is clear,
    • And where the madder-plant grows on the brae,
    • The house is there, so near,
    • The man so far* away!
    • Beyond the East-gate, where the chestnuts grow,
    • There are the houses standing in a row.
    • There think I not of thee?
    • Thence com’st thou ne’er to me.

I. vii. 16.

JOY AT THE GOODMAN’S RETURN.

    • Though cold it be with wind and rain,
    • The cock crows out his “cockaloo”;
    • The goodman I have seen again,
    • How were not I contented too?
    • Though wild the gusts of wind and rain,
    • The cock crows out his “cockalee”;*
    • The goodman I have seen again,
    • How should not every trouble flee?
    • Dark though it be with wind and rain,
    • The cock unceasing lifts his voice.
    • And, having seen my lord again,
    • How should not now my heart rejoice?

I. vii. 17.

NEGLECTED.

    • Dear wearer of the collar blue!
    • Long hath my heart no peace.
    • What though I may not come to thee,
    • Must then thy missives cease?
    • Dear wearer of the cincture blue!
    • Long is my anxious thought.
    • What though I may not come to thee,
    • Must I be left unsought?
    • There by the watch-tower on the wall
    • Thou mak’st thyself full free!
    • While, with no glimpse of thee, one day
    • Is like three months to me!

I. vii. 18.

TRUST THY LAST FRIEND AGAINST THE WORLD.

    • A babbling current fails*
    • To float a load of thorns away.—
    • Of brothers, few are left us now,
    • Yet we remain, myself and thou:
    • Believe not others’ tales,
    • Others will lead thee far astray.
    • The babbling current fails
    • To float the firewood faggots far.—
    • Of brothers there are left but few,
    • Yet I and thou remain, we two:
    • Believe not others’ tales,
    • For verily untrue they are!

I. vii. 19.

ONE MODEST MAID IS MORE THAN ALL.

    • Through the East-gate, outward bound,
    • Cloud-like groups of maids I found;
    • Cloud-like though the beauties were,
    • She I thought of was not there,—
    • She in white, with kerchief blue,
    • She who gives me pleasure true.
    • Past the outer gate and tower
    • Maids I found like reeds in flower.
    • Though with these they might compare,
    • She I thought of was not there,—
    • She in white, with madder dyes,
    • She my happiness, my prize!

I. vii. 20.

FORTUITOUS CONCOURSE.

    • Where creeping plants grew on the wild
    • And heavy dews declined,
    • There was a fair one all alone,
    • Bright-eyed, good-looking, kind.
    • Chance brought us to each other’s side,
    • And all my wish was gratified.
    • Where creeping plants grew on the wild,
    • And thick the dew-drops stood,
    • There was the fair one all alone,
    • Kind, as the looks were good.
    • Chance let us meet each other there,
    • Our mutual happiness to share.

I. vii. 21.

A SPRINGTIDE CARNIVAL.

    • When Tsin and Wai
    • Their floods expand,
    • Go men and maids
    • Marsh-flowers in hand.*
    • And maids will ask,
    • And men reply,
    • “Hast looked around?”
    • “Ay, that have I!”
    • —“But shall we go look round
    • Beyond the Wai?
    • There, sure, is room, and there
    • We can be jolly!”
    • So men and maidens join
    • In playful folly;
    • And to each other bring
    • The floral offering.*
    • When Tsin and Wai
    • Flow deep and clear,
    • Then men and maids
    • In crowds appear.
    • And maids will ask, &c., &c.

BOOK VIII.

THE ODES OF TS‘I.*

I. viii. 1.

THE GOOD WIFE EARLY WAKES HER LORD.

    • The cock has already crowed!
    • And crowds in thy Court are found.”
    • —“Nay, that was no crowing of cocks;
    • ’Twas the blue flies humming round.”
    • “The daylight is in the East!
    • All gay is thy Court, so soon.”
    • —“Nay, that is no daylight there;
    • ’Tis the light of the rising moon.”
    • “Ah, with murmur of insects around,
    • ’Twere sweet to lie dreaming here with thee;
    • But the folks there gathered may go;
    • And let none think scorn of thee and me.”

I. viii. 2.

THE CONCEITED SPORTSMEN.*

    • O the master is sharp as you will!
    • Once he met with me as he crossed the Nau Hill,
    • And as neck by neck our two boars we chased,
    • He bowed, and he praised my skill!
    • O the master, he knoweth the knack!
    • Once he met with me on the Nau Hill track,
    • And as neck by neck our two beasts we chased,
    • He bowed, and called me a “crack”!
    • O the master’s the man to ride!
    • Once he met with me upon Nau’s south side,
    • And as neck by neck our two wolves we chased,
    • He bowed, and “good man!” he cried.

I. viii. 3.

THE COMING OF THE BRIDEGROOM.

    • At the gate awaits me now, screened from sight, hi-ho!
    • One with tassels o’er his ears all of white, hi-ho!
    • And adorned with coloured gems, gleaming bright, hi-ho!
    • Now he waits me in the court, past the screen, hi-ho!
    • And the tassels o’er his ears are of green, hi-ho!
    • And his jewels have a lustre rarely seen, hi-ho!
    • In the hall he waits me last (now more bold), hi-ho!
    • And the tassels o’er his ears are of gold, hi-ho!
    • And his jewels—they are brilliant to behold, hi-ho!

I. viii. 4.

THE WINSOME VISITOR.*

    • O with the morning sun
    • Is yonder winsome one
    • At my abode,
    • At my abode,
    • And follows at my heels anon!
    • O with the rising moon
    • Is yonder winsome one
    • Within my door,
    • Within my door,
    • And follows at my heels full soon!†

I. viii. 5.

AN UNTIMELY SUMMONS.

    • Or e’er in the East the daylight grows
    • All topsy-turvy I don my clothes;
    • And topsy-turvy they now must be:
    • A summons is here from my lord for me!
    • Or e’er in the East a ray has shone
    • All upside down are my garments on;
    • And upside down they will have to be:
    • An order is here from my lord for me!
    • A garden hedge, though of willows slight,
    • E’en reckless fellows will fear to climb;—
    • But they who cannot tell dark from light*
    • Will, if not before, be behind the time.

I. viii. 6.

CRIMINAL RELATIONSHIPS.

    • Perched high upon the South Hill’s rocks,
    • There lonely musing sits the fox.
    • Ah, long’s the way to Lu!
    • That way Ts‘i’s daughter went, a bride,
    • And having once gone there a bride,
    • Why crave for her anew?
    • In pairs they make all fibre-shoes,
    • And bonnet-strings are worn by twos!
    • Ah, long’s the way to Lu!
    • Ts‘i’s child that way has journeyed o’er,
    • And since her journey now is o’er,
    • Why still her steps pursue?
    • As when a field of hemp you’d grow,
    • You plough and crossplough ere you sow,
    • So when you take a wife;
    • The parents first must needs be told,
    • But when the parents have been told,
    • Why lead such reckless life?*
    • In cleaving firewood first you need
    • An axe, or vainly you proceed.
    • So when a wife you wed,—
    • Without a go-between ’tis vain;
    • But why, when so the wife you gain,
    • To such extremes be led?*

I. viii. 7.

SEEK NOT TO BE A MAN BEFORE THY TIME.

    • Broad fields plant not,
    • Where thrive most the weeds;
    • Man’s years want not,
    • To heartaches it leads.
    • Broad fields plant not,
    • Or weeds will prevail;
    • Man’s years want not,
    • For grief ’twill entail.
    • Sweet, ay, and pretty,
    • The twin tufts of hair!
    • Soon, ah the pity,
    • The cap will be there!

I. viii. 8.

THE HOUNDS AND THE HUNTSMAN.

    • Clink-clink” goes hound with hound.
    • A gallant, generous master they have found.
    • There go they, leashed in pairs.*
    • A gallant master, and a manly, theirs.
    • Now run they three and three.
    • A gallant master, and a brave,† is he.

I. viii. 9.

WĂN-KIANG’S BOLD ESCAPADES TO TS‘I.§

    • Rent is the fish-trap at the weir,
    • Where bream and sturgeon crowd.
    • Ts‘i’s daughter seeks her former home,—
    • Her escort like a cloud.
    • No more the fish-trap at the weir
    • Can roach or bream retain.
    • Ts‘i’s child comes back,—and onward sweeps
    • Her escort like the rain.
    • It fails—the fish-trap at the weir:
    • In—out—the fishes gleam.
    • Ts‘i’s child comes back,—and onward flows
    • Her escort like a stream.

I. viii. 10.

HER SHAMELESS MEETINGS WITH DUKE SIANG.

    • On flies her car,—with wicker blinds,
    • And leather mounts vermilion dyed.
    • The way from Lu takes long to go;
    • Ts‘i’s daughter leaves at eventide.
    • Proudly the four black coursers speed,
    • As the long flowing reins are eased.
    • The way from Lu takes long to go;
    • Ts‘i’s daughter is triumphant, pleased.
    • Full flow the waters of the Wan,
    • And travellers in troops appear.
    • The way from Lu takes long to go;
    • Ts’i’s child maintains her proud career.
    • The waters of the Wan roll on;
    • More travellers the highway throng.
    • The way from Lu takes long to go;
    • Ts‘i’s daughter heedless hies along.

I. viii. 11.

LAMENTFUL PRAISE OF DUKE CHANG OF LU.*

    • What pity! and a man so fine!
    • Erect and tall, straight as a line!
    • What graces in his looks combine!
    • What fire is in those glancing eyen!
    • In every movement how divine!
    • And as an archer doth he shine.
    • What pity! praised by every one!
    • Brighter than those fine eyes be none!
    • Perfectly all his acts are done.
    • Before the disc, till sinks the sun,
    • Never a shot but centre won!
    • Ay, none mistakes Our Sister’s Son!
    • What pity! and so winsome he!
    • What countenance more fair to see?
    • Who’ll dance a dance so gracefully?
    • Who’ll shoot a shaft so sure as he?
    • Where enters one, there follow three!
    • Born queller, sure, of anarchy!

BOOK IX.

THE ODES OF WEI.*

I. ix. 1.

A WEALTHY NIGGARD.

    • Sparsely woven fibre-shoes
    • Serve to walk on frozen dews!
    • Dainty fingers of his bride
    • Are to tailoring applied,—
    • Trimming here, and edging there,
    • What the gentleman shall wear!
    • With what ease and courteous grace
    • He can yield the honoured place!
    • [Mark the dress] —the ivory pin
    • As a girdle-pendant strung.
    • ’Tis the stingy heart within—
    • That alone—moves satire’s tongue.

I. ix. 2.

OFFICIAL NIGGARDS

    • To yonder swamps along the Făn*
    • The sorrel-gatherers repair.
    • And there behold a gentleman
    • Comely beyond compare,
    • Comely beyond compare!
    • Sure, not the noble Equerry is there!
    • To yonder plot beside the Făn
    • Now mulberry-pickers all repair.
    • And there behold a gentleman
    • As any floweret fair,
    • As any floweret fair!
    • Sure, not the Chariot-Marshaller is there!
    • Again, where yonder curves the Făn
    • They gather marsh-plants, root and stem.
    • And there behold a gentleman
    • Bright as a polished gem,
    • Bright as a polished gem!
    • Sure, not the Clan-Recorder is with them!

I. ix. 3.

SECRET GRIEF OF A STATESMAN AT THE APPROACHING DOWNFALL OF THE STATE.

    • Who peach-trees in his garden grows
    • The peach anon will eat.
    • I, with a sad heart, sing my song
    • And on my lute the song repeat;
    • And those who understand me not
    • Call me a master of supreme conceit.
    • “ ’Tis those* are right,” say they;
    • “And thou, what wouldst thou say?”
    • And so my heart still grieveth;
    • Yet none the cause perceiveth,
    • Not one the cause perceiveth,—
    • And why?—their thoughts are far away.
    • Who date-trees in his garden grows
    • Anon will eat the date.
    • I, in the sadness of my heart.
    • Thought I would travel through the State;
    • But those who understood me not
    • Called me the master insubordinate!
    • “ ’Tis those are right,” said they;
    • “And thou, what wouldst thou say?”
    • And so my heart still grieveth;
    • Yet none the cause perceiveth,
    • Not one the cause perceiveth;—
    • And why?—their thoughts are far away.

I. x. 4.

RECIPROCATED AFFECTION.*

    • He climbs the wooded hills,
    • And turns his wistful gaze
    • There, where afar his father dwells;
    • The while the father prays,—
    • Alas, my son a-soldiering has gone,
    • And morn and night must aye be toiling on:
    • O may he still, by watchful care,
    • Return, nor end his travels there!
    • He climbs the barren fells,
    • And turns his wistful eyes
    • There, where afar his mother dwells;
    • The while the mother cries,—
    • Alas! my child a-soldiering is led,
    • And morn and night rests not his weary head:
    • O may he still, by watchful care,
    • Return, nor lie unburied there!
    • He climbs the rocky scar,
    • And still his eye pursues
    • The spot where elder brothers are;
    • The while the brothers muse,—
    • Alas, our younger one is at the war,
    • And morn and night must aye be with his corps:
    • O may he still, by watchful care,
    • Return, ere death o’ertake him there!

I. ix. 5.

WEARY OFFICIALS CONTEMPLATING A RETREAT.*

    • Mid his acres ten, contented, free,—
    • O the mulberry-planter’s life for me!
    • There fain would I, friend, retire with thee.
    • By his acres ten, without one care,—
    • O the mulberry-planter’s life to share!
    • There fain would I, friend, with thee repair.

I. ix. 6.

THE THRIFTY WOODMAN AND THE HOARDING OFFICIAL.

    • Rap, rap! the sandal-trees he slaughters,
    • And lays beside Ho’s barriered waters,
    • Ho’s clear and rippling laughing waters.
    • And thou, that reapest not, nor sowest,—
    • How cam’st thou by the grain that full three hundred farms should grow?
    • And, since thou ne’er a-hunting goest,
    • How see we there the badgers hanging in thy court below?
    • Ah, sure, the honourable man is there!*
    • Though lacking even simple homely fare.
    • Rap, rap! the spoke-wood he is mowing,
    • And by the Ho the timber stowing,—
    • Ho’s waters clear and smoothly flowing.
    • And thou, that reapest not, nor sowest,—
    • How cam’st thou by the grain thou hast—three hundred lakhs of stooks?
    • And, since thou ne’er a-hunting goest,
    • How see we in thy courtyard there the game upon the hooks?
    • Ah, sure, the honourable man is there!
    • Though lacking even simple homely fare.
    • Rap, rap! the tire-wood he is cleaving,
    • And by the Ho the timber leaving,—
    • Ho’s waters clear and gently heaving.
    • And thou, that reapest not, nor sowest,—
    • How cam’st thou by the grain that in three hundred barns is found?
    • And, since thou ne’er a-hunting goest,
    • How see we in thy courtyard there the qualls that hang around?
    • Ah, sure, the honourable man is there!
    • Though wanting even simple homely fare.

I. ix. 7.

SONG OF FARMERS DRIVEN FORTH BY EXTORTION.

    • O monster* rats! O monster rats!
    • Eat not our millets, we implore.
    • Three years we’ve borne with you,
    • And still our presence you ignore.
    • Now we abandon you,
    • And to you pleasant lands repair.
    • O pleasant lands! O pleasant lands!
    • A refuge have we surely there.
    • O monster rats! O monster rats!
    • Devour not all our crops of wheat.
    • Three years we’ve borne with you,
    • Still with no mercy do we meet.
    • Now we abandon you,
    • And take to you glad Land our flight.
    • O gladsome Land! O gladsome Land!
    • There justice shall we have, and right.
    • O monster rats! O monster rats!
    • Devour not all our springing grain.
    • Three years we’ve borne with you,
    • Nor heed you still our toil and pain.
    • Now we abandon you
    • For brighter plains that yonder lie.
    • O brighter plains! O brighter plains!
    • Whose, then, will be the constant cry?

BOOK X.

THE ODES OF T‘ANG.*

I. x. 1.

SONG OF PEASANTRY AT THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR.

    • The crickets are in the hall,
    • And the year is waning fast.
    • If now to our mirth we fail to fall,
    • Will its days and months be past.
    • Yet let us have no excess:
    • On our ways and means reflect;
    • Make merry, but wanton waste repress:
    • Good fellows are circumspect.
    • The crickets are in the hall,
    • And the year is hasting on.
    • If now to our mirth we fail to fall,
    • Will its days and months be gone.
    • Yet let us have no excess;
    • But the future keep in view;
    • Make merry, but wanton waste repress:
    • Good fellows are careful too.
    • The crickets are in the hall,
    • And at rest is every cart.
    • If now to our mirth we fail to fall,
    • Will its days and months depart.
    • Yet let us have no excess:
    • First think of the evil day;
    • Make merry, but wanton waste repress;
    • Good fellows may then be gay!

I. x. 2.

ENJOY LIFE’S GOOD THINGS WHILE YOU MAY.

    • On the hills are the thorny elms,
    • The white elm in the vales.*
    • The master has robes and gowns,
    • Yet never a train he trails.
    • The master has carriage and steeds,
    • Yet drives not, rides not he.
    • In death he must part with all,—
    • To another’s delight and glee!
    • On the hill is the varnish-wood,
    • The wood for the bow below.—
    • The master has courts and halls;
    • Nor water nor brush they know.
    • The master has bells and drums;
    • Nor bell nor drum strikes he.
    • In death he must part with all,—
    • And some other the owner be.
    • On the hill is the lacquer-tree,
    • And the chestnut at the foot.—
    • The master has meats and drinks;
    • Why daily not thrum the lute,
    • And cheery enjoyment take,
    • And livelong make the day?
    • For in death he must leave his home,
    • Where another will find his way.

I. x. 3.

HWAN-SHUH AND HIS SECRET BAND.*

    • The stream runs low,
    • White rocks are jutting, pointing through.—
    • With the white red-collared robe we go,
    • And will follow thee to Yuh.§
    • Let our eyes but once behold our Chief,
    • What joy shall not ensue?
    • The stream runs low,
    • White rocks are gleaming whiter now.—
    • With the white red-bordered robe we go,
    • And will follow thee to Kâu.
    • Let our eyes but once behold our Chief
    • Whose, then, the troubled brow?
    • The stream runs low,
    • White rocks stand bare where once it ran.—
    • Our orders we now have heard and know,
    • And must ne’er divulge to any man.

I. x. 4.

ADMIRATION OF SOME CHIEF, AND JOY AT BEHOLDING HIS NUMEROUS FAMILY.*

    • Mark ye the fruit of the pepper-tree,
    • So fine, so full,—and a pint to the brim.—
    • Mark ye the Chief with the stalwart form;
    • Ne’er will you meet with the like of him.
    • Then hail to the pepper-tree,
    • And its shoots that spread so free!
    • Mark ye the fruit of the pepper-tree,
    • So fine, so full, the two hands ’twould fill.—
    • Mark ye the Chief with the stalwart form;
    • I’ faith, and a man of great goodwill.
    • Then hail to the pepper-tree,
    • And its shoots that spread so free!

I. x. 5.

AN UNEXPECTED UNION.

    • (She):

      The firewood bundles are tied and bound,
    • Aloft in the heavens the Three Stars shine.
    • This evening—what may the evening be
    • That I thus behold this goodman (mine)?
    • Aye thee! aye thee!
    • How came such a worthy man to me?
    • (Both):

      The bundles of grass are tied and bound,
    • Declining* there the Three Stars appear.
    • This evening—what may the evening be
    • That sees this unlooked-for meeting here
    • With thee? with thee!
    • How came it—so unforeseen—to be?
    • (He):

      The bundles of thorns are tied and bound,
    • The Three Stars shine through the doorway there.
    • This evening—what may the evening be
    • That I thus behold this creature fair?
    • Aye thee! aye thee!
    • How came such a creature fair to me?

I. x. 6.

BROTHERLESS.

    • Russet pear-tree, solitary standing,
    • Still with foliage thick art thou expanding;—
    • I must wander, lone, no friends commanding.
    • Not that no one else is near me,—rather,
    • None there be sprung from a common father.
    • Wherefore then, ye travellers all, I pray you,
    • Ne’er a sign of sympathy betray you?
    • Wherefore, as a man, bereft of brothers,
    • Should I find no friendly help in others?
    • Russet pear-tree, solitary growing,
    • Yet rich foliage all around thee throwing,—
    • I must wander, lone, no succour knowing.
    • Not alone,—but rather, so wayfaring,
    • None I find the common clan-name sharing.
    • Wherefore then, ye travellers all, I pray you,
    • Ne’er a sign of sympathy betray you?
    • Wherefore, as a man, bereft of brothers,
    • Should I find no friendly help in others?

I. x. 7.

COMPLAINT AGAINST A HIGH OFFICIAL.*

    • He of the lamb’s-fur and the cuffs of pardskin
    • His hatred of us all too long hath shown.
    • Hast thou not yet another?
    • [We ask it], sir, for thine own sake alone.
    • He of the lamb’s-fur bordered with the pardskin
    • Hath shown us all too long sore enmity.†
    • Hast thou not yet another?
    • [We ask it], sir, alone for love of thee.

I. x. 8.

CONFLICTING DUTIES.*

    • What flapping and flutter of gannets’ wings,
    • Alighting now on the oak-tree tops!
    • Relentless biddings are those of kings:
    • None now can attend to his millet crops.
    • Who now is the stay of the aged pair?
    • O Heaven, thou vast and azure Heaven,
    • When, when shall we be as once we were?
    • What flapping and flutter of gannets’ wings,
    • Alighting now on the copse of thorn!
    • Relentless biddings are those of kings:
    • None now can attend to his crops of corn.
    • And how do the aged parents fend?
    • O Heaven, thou vast and azure Heaven,
    • When, when may we now expect the end?
    • What flapping and flutter of gannets’ wings,
    • As the mulberry grove beneath them sways!
    • Relentless biddings are those of kings:
    • None now can attend to his rice and maize.
    • On what do the parents sup to-day?
    • O Heaven, thou vast and azure Heaven,
    • When, when shall we live in the wonted way?

I. x. 9.

A HAUGHTY USURPER’S PETITION TO THE KING FOR CONFIRMATION OF HIS POSITION.*

    • Who denies I have robes with the badges seven?
    • Yet they seem not thine, until thou, O King,
    • Has therewith thy “Peace and Prosper” given.
    • Who denies I have robes with the badges six?†
    • Yet they seem not thine, until thou, O King,
    • Shalt thy “Peace and Goodwill” thereto affix.

I. x. 10.

TOO POOR TO ENTERTAIN.§

    • Here is a lonely russet pear-tree
    • Grows on the left, beside the road.
    • Ah! yonder worthies might be willing
    • To visit me here in my abode.
    • And in my heart right well I love them.
    • But—meat and drink how should I give them?*
    • Here is a lonely russet pear-tree
    • Grows where the road doth backward bend.
    • Ah, yonder worthies might be willing
    • To come,—an idle hour to spend.
    • And in my heart right well I love them.
    • But—meat and drink how should I give them?

I. x. 11.

A WIDOW’S SORROW AND DEVOTION.

    • The creeper grows, and wraps the shrubs,
    • Convolvulus the moorland hides.—
    • My well-beloved no more is near;
    • Who with the lone one now abides?
    • The creeper grows, and wraps the thorns,
    • Convolvulus the grave o’ergrows.—
    • My well-beloved no more is near;
    • Who with the lone one takes repose?
    • O pillow of horn,§ so beautiful!
    • O figured coverlet, so gay!
    • My well-beloved no more is near;
    • Who with the lone one waits for day?
    • Through summer day,
    • Through winter night,
    • Long years will pass, and then myself
    • Will take to his abode my flight.*
    • Through winter night,
    • Through summer day,
    • Long years will pass, and then myself
    • Will to his dwelling wing my way.

I. x. 12.

MIND NOT IDLE TALES.

    • Who, a-gathering mouse-ear fungus,
    • Gathers it on Shau-yang’s crest?—
    • People’s stories are but fiction,
    • And on no foundation rest.
    • Put them from thee, put them from thee;
    • Fictions are they, and untrue;
    • Tales invented by the people,—
    • Tush! what can they do?
    • Who, a-gathering in the rue-leaf,
    • Gathers it at Shau-yang’s base?—†
    • People’s stories are but fiction,
    • Ne’er agree they with the case.
    • Put them from thee, put them from thee;
    • Fictions are they, and untrue;
    • Tales invented by the people,—
    • Tush! what can they do?
    • Who, that goes a-gathering parsley,
    • East of Shau-yang ever went?—*
    • People’s stories are but fiction,
    • And are all-inconsequent.
    • Put them from thee, put them from thee;
    • Fictions are they, and untrue;
    • Tales invented by the people,—
    • Tush! what can they do?

BOOK XI.

THE ODES OF TS‘IN.*

I. xi. 1.

LIFE AT COURT—BUDDING INTO OPULENCE AND GAIETY.

    • Now hath he rumbling carriages,
    • And the white-crested steeds.
    • And lo! to come before the Chief
    • The Eunuch’s pass one needs.
    • The varnish-tree adorns the slope,
    • The chestnut the moist ground.—
    • Here sit we now around our Chief,
    • And lutes are thrumming round.
    • If joy be not for present years,
    • What will fourscore have found?
    • The mulberry-tree adorns the slope,
    • The willow the wet plains.—
    • Here sit we now around our Chief,
    • And hear the organ’s strains.
    • If pleasure be not for to-day,
    • Years pass, till nought remains.

I. xi. 2.

THE COURT-HUNT.

    • Four irongreys, of height superb,
    • Lo! held by half-a-dozen reins.
    • The Chief’s own favourites their Chief
    • Are following to the hunting plains.
    • They beat him up the season’s game,*
    • The season’s game superb for size.
    • “Off to the left,” calls out the Chief:
    • Lets fly the shaft, and bags the prize.
    • Then through the north park strolls he back,
    • The while his four well-broken steeds,
    • With bells at bits, in light-built carts,
    • Draw home the hounds of various breeds.

I. xi. 3.

THE ABSENT WARRIOR-HUSBAND.§

    • Curricle of war, so narrow,
    • With its pole with five gay bindings,
    • Sliding rings at shoulder-braces,
    • Silvered fastenings at the cross-bar,*
    • Tiger-skin, naves far-projecting,
    • And my piebalds at the traces—
    • Ay, my thoughts are of my husband
    • So beloved, so good and kind,
    • Now amid the log-huts yonder;
    • And what tumult fills my mind!
    • Team of four strong colts and stalwart,
    • Half a dozen reins to hold them,§
    • Piebalds for the inner twain,†
    • Dappled greys the two outsiders,†
    • Dragon shields, each matching other,
    • Silver-clasped each inner rein—
    • Ay, my thoughts are of my husband
    • Good and kind, in towns far hence.
    • When, when shall his term be ended?
    • Long, too long, this thought intense!
    • Four mailed chargers, well assorted,
    • Trident spears, with shaft-ends silvered,
    • Shields adorned with painted wings,
    • Case of tiger-skin steel-mounted
    • For the bows, two bows containing,
    • Bound to bamboo frames by strings—
    • Ay, my thoughts are of my husband,
    • When I rise or lay me down.
    • Worthy man, may peace attend him,
    • And his name win wide renown.

I. xi. 4.

CHASING THE PHANTOM.*

    • When reed and rush grew green, grew green,
    • And dews to hoar-frost changed,
    • One whom they speak of as “that man”
    • Somewhere the river ranged.
    • Upstream they went in quest of him,
    • A long and toilsome way;
    • Downstream they went in quest of him;—
    • In mid-stream there he lay!
    • When reed and rush grew tall, grew tall,
    • And dews lay yet undried,
    • He whom they speak of as “that man”
    • Was by the riverside.
    • Upstream they searched for him, along
    • The toilsome, deep defile;
    • Downstream again—and there he lay,
    • Midway, upon the isle!
    • When reed and rush were cut and gone,
    • And dews still lingered dank,
    • He whom they speak of as “that man”
    • Was on the river’s bank.
    • Upstream they searched for him, along
    • The toilsome right-hand road;
    • Downstream,—and on the island there,
    • In mid-stream, he abode!

I. xi. 5.

THE RULER’S RETURN FROM THE KING’S COURT AFTER PROMOTION TO HIGHER RANK.

    • What see we on the Chung-nan* mountain?
    • Here silver firs, and plum-trees there.
    • Behold our noble lord arriving
    • In broider’d robe and fox-furs fair,—
    • His countenance as rouged, so ruddy:
    • A prince is he indeed beyond compare!
    • What see we on the Chung-nan mountain?
    • Here shady nook, there open glade.
    • Behold our noble lord arriving,
    • In flowery robe and train arrayed,
    • With jewels at his girdle tinkling:
    • Long life be his, and fame that shall not fade!

I. xi. 6.

THE LIVING BURIED WITH THE DEAD.

    • In flocks the yellow birds
    • Flew in and out each thorny tree.—§
    • Who followed dead Duke Muh?
    • He of the clan Tse-Kü, Yen-Si.
    • Gazing into his grave
    • He shrank with shuddering dread.
    • Powers of yon blue concave!*
    • Our best men all lie dead.
    • O, could a ransom save,
    • A hundred died instead!
    • In flocks the yellow birds
    • Hovered the mulberry-trees among.—
    • Who followed dead Duke Muh?
    • He of the clan Tse-Kü, Chung-Hang.
    • Match for a hundred men
    • Was he, the same Chung-Hang.
    • Gazing into his grave
    • He shrank with shuddering dread.
    • Powers of yon blue concave!
    • Our best men all lie dead.
    • O, could a ransom save,
    • A hundred died instead!
    • In flocks the yellow birds
    • There in and out the thicket flew.—
    • Who followed dead Duke Muh?
    • He of the clan Tse-Kü, Chin-Hu.
    • Withstand a hundred men.
    • Could he that same Chin-Hu.
    • Gazing into his grave
    • He shrank with shuddering dread.
    • Powers of yon blue concave!
    • Our best men all lie dead.
    • O, could a ransom save,
    • A hundred died instead.

I. xi. 7.

OUT OF SIGHT AND OUT OF MIND.

    • Swiftly sped the sparrow-hawk,
    • Northward where the woods grow dense.—
    • Absent is my husband still,
    • And ’tis sad, this long suspense.
    • Why is he, methinks, and how
    • So unmindful of me now?
    • Groves of oak adorn the hill,
    • Elm-trees, six of them, the mead.—
    • Absent is my husband still;
    • Sad and cheerless life I lead,
    • Why is he, methinks, and how
    • So unmindful of me now?
    • On the hill wild cherry-trees,
    • On the meadowland wild pears.—
    • With my husband absent still
    • I seem stupefied with cares.
    • Why is he, methinks, and how
    • So unmindful of me now?

I. xi. 8.

COMRADES IN WAR-TIME.

    • How say we have no clothes?
    • One plaid for both will do.
    • Let but the king, in raising men,
    • Our spears and pikes renew,—
    • We’ll fight as one, we two!
    • How say we have no clothes?
    • One skirt our limbs shall hide.
    • Let but the king, in raising men,
    • Halberd and lance provide,—
    • We’ll do it, side by side!
    • How say we have no clothes?
    • My kirtle thou shalt wear.
    • Let but the king, in raising men,
    • Armour and arms prepare,—
    • The toils of war we’ll share.

I. xi. 9.

A REFUGEE HEIR OF TSIN ASSISTED IN HIS RIGHTS.*

    • Escorting my cousin
    • There north of the Wai so far,
    • What gifts did I leave him?
    • Bay team for a ducal car.
    • My cousin’s escorting
    • Aye long in my thoughts abides.
    • What gifts did I leave him?
    • Rich gems for his belt besides.

I. xi. 10.

OLD OFFICIALS LEFT IN THE COLD.*

    • Alas for us!
    • Fine houses first and all on liberal scale;—
    • Now, each meal o’er, remains naught more!
    • Ah, welladay!
    • So to begin and afterwards to fail!
    • Alas for us!
    • Four platters once at meals for every man;
    • And now each feeds within his needs!
    • Ah, welladay!
    • Not to go on as we at first began!

BOOK XII.

THE ODES OF CH‘IN.*

I. xii. 1.

A PLEASURE-LOVING OFFICIAL.

    • O the master’s truauting!
    • There on Yun-hill’s shoulder.
    • Jovial is he, true, but wins
    • Praise from no beholder.
    • Down below at Yun-hill’s foot
    • We may hear his drummers;
    • Still he waves the egret-plumes,
    • Winter’s day or summer’s.
    • On the roads around Yün-hill
    • Porcelain drums they beat him;§
    • Winter, summer, ne’er without
    • Egret-fan we meet him.

I. xii. 2.

THE YOUNG FOLKS’ HOLIDAY.

    • Now under the East-gate elms,
    • Now under Yün-hill’s oak-trees,
    • The maid of the clan Tse-chung
    • Romps idly about at ease.
    • The day that was fixed is fine,
    • To the South Moor all repair;
    • “No plaiting of hemp to-day,
    • But frolicking at the fair.”
    • The day for the trip is fine,
    • And there with the crowd goes she.
    • “I see thee—my blushing rose,
    • With a pepper-spray for me!”

I. xii. 3.

CONTENTEDNESS.

    • Below my rude and crazy door,
    • ’Tis mine to lounge at leisure,
    • And while my purling fountain flows
    • To bear my wants with pleasure.
    • And needs one, for a meal of fish,
    • A bream from out the Ho, then?
    • And needs one, if a wife he wish,
    • For a Kiang of Ts‘i to go, then?
    • Or needs he, for a meal of fish,*
    • A carp from those same waters?
    • Or, for a wife, to take a Tse,—*
    • One of the Sung’s proud daughters?

I. xii. 4.

A TRYSTING-PLACE.

    • She well might use the East-gate moat
    • To steep her hemp along.
    • And there my fair and graceful queen*
    • Might join with me in song.
    • The East-gate moat to steep her flax
    • Convenient place would be.
    • And there my fair and graceful queen
    • Could meet and talk with me.
    • So might she use the East-gate moat
    • To steep her couch-grass too.
    • And there my graceful queen and I
    • Our converse might renew.

I. xii. 5.

THE BROKEN TRYST.

    • The willows by the Eastern gate
    • Their wealth of leaves are showing.
    • The gloaming was the trysted time,
    • The daystar now is glowing.
    • The willows by the Eastern gate
    • With glossy leaves are teeming.
    • The gloaming was the trysted time,
    • The daystar now is gleaming!

I. xii. 6.

A WARNING.

    • There are thorn-trees by the lych-gate,*
    • O, an axe to lay them low!
    • Here is one of graceless habits,
    • As the country well doth know;
    • Well doth know, yet ne’er he pauseth;
    • From of old it hath been so.
    • There are plum-trees by the lych-gate,
    • Screech-owls haunting every tree.
    • Here is one of graceless habits,
    • Let this song his warning be.
    • Should my warning be unheeded,
    • Ruin may bring thoughts of me.

I. xii. 7.

WHO LURED MY LOVE AWAY?

    • The dyke retains the magpie’s nest,
    • The brae the bright wild-pea.
    • But oh! what anguish fills my breast!
    • Who lured my Love from me?
    • Fair tiles adorn the temple-path,
    • Bright ribbon-plants the brae.
    • But oh! my heart! what pain it hath!
    • Who lured my Love away?

I. xii. 8.

LOVE’S CHAIN.

    • O moon that climb’st effulgent!
    • O ladylove most sweet!
    • Would that my ardour found thee more indulgent!
    • Poor heart, how dost thou vainly beat!
    • O moon that climb’st in splendour!
    • O ladylove most fair!
    • Couldst thou relief to my fond yearning render!
    • Poor heart, what chafing must thou bear!
    • O moon that climb’st serenely!
    • O ladylove most bright!
    • Couldst thou relax the chain I feel so keenly!
    • Poor heart, how sorry is thy plight!

I. xii. 9.

DUKE LING’S VISITS TO THE LADY OF CHU-LIN.*

    • What takes me” (say you) “to Chu-lin?”
    • I seek Hià-nan.
    • ’Tis not a visit to Chu-lin:
    • I seek Hià-nan.
    • Come put my team of four abreast;
    • Out on the wilds of Chu we’ll rest.
    • There put my team of young ones to—
    • My breakfast I will eat at Chu.

I. xii. 10.

LOVE’S GRIEFS.*

    • By the margin of the mere
    • Rush with lotus-flower may dwell.
    • Handsomest of men is here,—
    • How shall I my trouble tell!
    • Waking, sleeping,—no repose—
    • Stream the tears from eyes and nose.
    • There they stand beside the mere,
    • Rush and king-cup, side by side.
    • Handsomest of men is here,
    • Tall, robust, in manhood’s pride.
    • Waking, sleeping—both are vain,
    • For my heart’s core feels the pain.
    • By the margin of the mere
    • Rush with mallow may combine.
    • Handsomest of men is here,
    • Tall, robust, of presence fine.
    • Waking, sleeping—all unrest—
    • Tossing on my back and breast.

BOOK XIII.

THE ODES OF KWAI.*

I. xiii. 1.

A RULER FONDER OF HIS ROBES THAN OF HIS DUTY.

    • In the lambskin loitering at thy leisure!
    • In the foxfur seated in thy Court!
    • How then should I take no thought about thee?
    • Ah, my thoughts are of the saddest sort!
    • In the lambskin wandering off at pleasure!
    • In the foxfur seated in thy Hall!
    • How then should I take no thought about thee?
    • Ah, with pain and grief I note it all.
    • Ay, the lambskin, as with unguent shining,
    • How it glistens in the morning sun!
    • Wherefore should I take no thought about thee?
    • Ah, my heart with sorrow is undone!

I. xiii. 2.

DECAY OF FILIAL PIETY SEEN IN THE DECAY OF MOURNING.*

    • O for a sight of the bonnet white,
    • And the rigorous wearer, spare and slight!
    • Sore were my heart at the moving sight!
    • O for a sight of the plain white dress!
    • How my heart would feel for the fatherless!
    • Fain would I homeward with him press.
    • O that I saw the white apron worn!
    • How my heart would cling to the youth forlorn,
    • Ay, and as one with him would mourn!

I. xiii. 3.

CONTRASTS WITH NATURE.

    • See the goats’-peach grow on the wet land low,
    • With its branches supple and fair,
    • And the glossy sheen of its vernal green:—
    • Happy creature, of nought aware!
    • See the goats’-peach grow on the wet land low,
    • With its dainty delicate bloom,
    • And the glossy sheen of its vernal green:—
    • Happy thing, with no (ties of) home!
    • See the goats’-peach grow on the wet land low,
    • And the dainty fair fruit it bears,
    • And the glossy sheen of its vernal green:—
    • Happy thing, with no household (cares)!

I. xiii. 4.

LAMENT OVER THE DECAY OF CHOW.

    • O it is not the wild wind’s blast,
    • Nor sound of wheels that hurry past;
    • Reviewing but the ways of Chow,*
    • My heart is pained: I stand aghast.
    • O it is not the gale severe,
    • Nor yet the chariots’ wild career;
    • Reviewing but the ways of Chow,
    • My heart is filled with sorrow drear.
    • Who knows the art of cooking fish?
    • Cleansed are his pots that hold the same.
    • Who seeks his homeland in the West?
    • Dear should he hold its honoured name.§

BOOK XIV.

THE ODES OF TS‘ÂU.*

I. xiv. 1.

AGAINST FOPPERY.

    • O the butterflies’ wings!
    • O the dresses so gay!
    • ’Tis a trouble to me;
    • To my home I’ll away.
    • O the butterflies’ wings!
    • O the ways they are dressed!
    • ’Tis but trouble to me;
    • I will homeward and rest.
    • See the chrysalids burst!
    • See the linen§ like snow!
    • ’Tis but trouble to me;
    • To my home let me go.

I. xiv. 2.

WORTHLESS DISPLAY AT THE COURT.*

    • Lo the convoy officers
    • Lance and pike that bear!
    • Lo the striplings—hundreds three—
    • Scarlet greaves that wear!
    • —Pelicans upon a dam!
    • Wetting ne’er a wing.
    • Ah the striplings, ne’er is one
    • Worth his garnishing.
    • —Pelicans upon a dam,
    • Wetting ne’er a bill;
    • Ah the striplings, never one
    • Worth his lord’s goodwill!
    • O rank growth! O mists that climb§
    • The south hill at morn!
    • O the tender fair young wives
    • That are famine-worn!

I. xiv. 3.

PRAISE OF AN EXCELLENT RULER.

    • There in the mulberry-tree the dove*
    • Sits on,—seven young ones at her side.—
    • A virtuous man our Chief doth prove,
    • In action dignified,
    • So wholly dignified
    • As were he bound thereto and tied.
    • Still in the mulberry-tree the dove
    • Sits on,—her brood to plum-trees flown.—
    • A virtuous man our Chief doth prove;
    • And by his silken zone,
    • Ay, by his silken zone,
    • And checkered bonnet, may be known.
    • In the mulberry-tree still bides the dove,
    • And now on thorn-trees are her brood.—
    • A virtuous man our Chief doth prove,—
    • Of faultless rectitude;
    • And by such rectitude
    • Is all his land reformed, renewed.
    • In the mulberry-tree still bides the dove;
    • Her brood in hazel copses stray.—
    • A virtuous man our Chief doth prove,
    • And points his folk the way,
    • The good, the better way;—
    • Why not for ever and for aye?

I. xiv. 4.

HARD TIMES IN TS‘ÂU—NO HELP FORTHCOMING AS FORMERLY FROM THE ROYAL CAPITAL OF CHOW.

    • O cold and chill yon fountain’s rill,*
    • That swamps the weed-beds on its brink.
    • Heigh-ho! I lie awake and sigh,
    • When of Chow’s capital I think.
    • O cold and chill the fountain’s rill,
    • That swamps the wormwood on each side.
    • Heigh-ho! I lie awake and sigh,
    • As on Chow-king my thoughts abide.
    • Yea, cold and chill the fountain’s rill,
    • The milfoil it is swamping now.
    • Heigh-ho! I lie awake and sigh:
    • My thoughts are of the Court of Chow.
    • Once sprouting grain, like grassy plain,
    • Grew rich with fertilizing rain.
    • Each State around its Sovereign owned,
    • And in Siün’s Chief a refuge found

BOOK XV.

THE ODES OF PIN.*

I. xv. 1.

LIFE IN PIN IN THE OLDEN TIME.

    • In the seventh month wanes the heat,
    • In the ninth are garments doled,
    • Through the eleventh§ beat winter winds,
    • Through the twelfth ’tis chill and cold.
    • How without the clothes and wraps
    • Could one see the twelvemonth close?
    • Through the first, at sock and share
    • (For the ploughing we prepare).
    • Through the second—lilting toes!*
    • And with wives and children now
    • Picnic we upon South Lea.
    • Comes the Steward, pleased is he.
    • In the seventh month wanes the heat,
    • In the ninth the clothes we dole.
    • In the sunny days of Spring
    • Comes the warbling oriole;
    • Maids their dainty baskets seize,
    • And along the narrow paths
    • Seek the supple mulberry-trees.
    • Spring days lengthen—all begin
    • The white wormwood to get in.
    • One maid’s heart feels a smart:
    • Time is hastening—she must soon
    • With the Master’s son depart.§
    • In the seventh month wanes the heat,
    • In the eighth thrive rush and reed.
    • When the silkworm-month arrives,
    • Then the mulberry leaves we need;
    • Then with axe and bill we go
    • Laying vagrant branches low;
    • Virgin trees we strip, not strike.
    • In the seventh month pipes the shrike.
    • In the eighth, from spinning-wheel
    • Dark and yellow threads we reel,
    • While our brightest red is spun
    • To adorn the Master’s son.
    • In the fourth month seeds the grass;
    • In the fifth cicadas call;
    • In the eighth is harvest-tide;
    • In the tenth the leaves will fall.
    • Through the eleventh we hunt the brock;
    • Fox and wild-cat, too, we take;
    • The young Master’s furs they make.
    • In the twelfth the Meet takes place,*
    • Where brave deeds once more be shown;
    • To our lot the young boars fall,
    • To the Master’s the full-grown.
    • In the fifth month hoppers grind;
    • In the sixth their wings they find;
    • In the seventh out in the fields,
    • In the eighth in eaves o’erhead,
    • In the ninth about the door,
    • In the tenth beneath the bed,—
    • So do crickets entrance gain.
    • Holes be filled, smoked out the rats,
    • Windows stopped, doors plastered o’er.
    • Ah! wife and children mine,
    • So things tell the year’s decline!
    • Go indoors, and there remain.
    • In the sixth month eat we plum and grape;
    • In the seventh we boil the pulse and rape;
    • In the eighth, date-trees are stripped;
    • In the tenth, the rice is clipped,
    • And Spring-drinks are brewed from it
    • For old age’s benefit.
    • In the seventh we melons eat;
    • In the eighth we cut the bottle-gourd;
    • In the ninth the seed from hemp is stored,
    • And lettuce cut, and fuel of worthless wood,
    • And the farm-labourers supplied with food.
    • In the ninth month we beat down the space
    • In the garden for the stacking-place;
    • In the tenth we bring therein the grain,—
    • Millets, early sown and late,
    • Rice, and hemp, and pulse, and wheat.
    • Ah, my tillers of the soil,
    • When our crops are all got in
    • Home you go to other toil,
    • To the homestead industries,—
    • Thatching while you have the light,
    • Twisting ropes when falls the night!
    • —Yet they scarce the housetop gain
    • When they must begin again
    • Sowing every sort of grain!
    • In the twelfth month boring ice,
    • How the thuds and cracks resound!
    • In the first we store it up
    • In the houses underground.
    • In the next, at early morn,
    • To the shrine a lamb, with leeks, is borne.*
    • In the ninth month frost is keen.
    • In the tenth we sweep the stackyards clean.
    • Then the pair of spirit-flasks are filled,
    • “Let the sheep and lambs,” we cry, “be killed.
    • Now up to the Master’s hall we’ll go,
    • And the horncup there upraise,
    • Wishing him long life, and endless days!”

I. xv. 2.

THE NEST, SO HARD TO BUILD, NOW ROBBED.*

    • O hawk! O robber-hawk!
    • My young ones from me thou hast torn;
    • My nest I pray thee spare.
    • With toil and tender care
    • I reared those young ones now I mourn.
    • Ere rain-clouds hid the sky*
    • The mulberry bark I brought to bind
    • My lattice and my door.
    • You folks below no more
    • Would dare molest me, I opined.
    • With claws I pulled and tore,—
    • With tugging at each stalk I met,
    • With getting in my store,
    • My beak grew very sore:
    • Said I, “No house have I as yet.”
    • My wings are worn and frayed;
    • All torn and tattered is my tail;
    • My nest is hard to gain,
    • Rocked, thrashed by wind and rain:—
    • Nought can I do but shriek and wail.

I. xv. 3.

SONG OF THE TROOPS ON RETURNING FROM THE EASTERN CAMPAIGN.*

    • To the hills in the East we marched away,
    • And ne’er came home for many a day;
    • When we did come back from the East again,
    • Then down came the dripping, drizzling rain.—
    • In the East when we talked of our return,
    • O then for the West our hearts would burn.
    • “Make ready the gear we then shall wear;—
    • No marching there, no gagging there!”
    • Like caterpillars that creep and crawl
    • In mulberry grounds, there were we all,
    • And each in his lonely shelter slept,
    • Ay, under the waggons, too, we crept.
    • To the hills in the East we marched away,
    • And ne’er came home for many a day;
    • When we did come back from the East again,
    • Then down came the dripping, drizzling rain.—
    • And we thought of our creeping gourds, and how
    • Their fruit must be over the eaves by now,—
    • Of the woodlice roaming the rooms by scores,
    • Of the spiders weaving across the doors,
    • Of our paddocks now the haunt of the deer,
    • With the glowworms flickering far and near—
    • O sure there was cause for grave concern,
    • And well might we long for our return.
    • To the hills in the East we marched away,
    • And ne’er came home for many a day;
    • When we did come back from the East again,
    • Then down came the dripping, drizzling rain.—
    • On the ant-hills were the white cranes crying,
    • In their rooms our wives were sadly sighing,
    • As they sprinkled and swept, and filled each crack,
    • When suddenly we from our raid came back!
    • And there, on their sticks from the chestnut-tree,
    • Grew the bitter-gourds all orderly,
    • Though three long years by now had passed
    • Since eyes we had set upon them last!
    • To the hills in the East we marched away,
    • And ne’er came home for many a day;
    • When we did come back from the East again,
    • Then down came the dripping, drizzling rain.—
    • Now orioles are to be seen in flight;
    • Far and near their wings flash in the light.
    • And maids are out on their wedding-day,
    • On ponies chestnut or white-flecked bay,
    • Wearing sashes that mothers have fondly tied,
    • And paraphernalia much beside.
    • If so happy these younger ones we see,
    • Then what must the meeting of old ones be!

I. xv. 4.

THE SAME.

    • All broken are our axes,*
    • All shattered are our bills.—
    • Chow-Kung with arms went Eastward
    • To right the country’s ills.
    • Yet pity for our people
    • His heart most surely fills.
    • All broken are our axes,
    • Our chisels suffered harm.—
    • Chow-Kung with arms went Eastward
    • The country to reform.
    • Yet showed he for our people
    • A sympathy most warm.
    • All broken are our axes.
    • Our picks in sorry plight.—
    • Chow-Kung with arms went Eastward
    • The country to unite.
    • His pity for our people
    • We marked with true delight.

I. xv. 5.

COMPARISONS.*

    • How do we hew our axes’ helves?
    • Not without axes, sure, themselves.
    • What if to take a wife we mean?
    • Hopeless, save with a go-between.
    • As in the hewing of helves, of helves,
    • Not far off are the types themselves,
    • Haply have I my lady met,
    • So is the feast in order set!§

I. xv. 6.

LAMENTS IN THE EAST AT THE DUKE’S RECALL.

    • We have netted the fish,—the rudd, the bream!
    • We have met with our Chief in the dragon-robe
    • And the skirts that with broideries gleam.
    • There the wild-geese wing o’er the isles their way!
    • And the Duke returns? Hath he here no room?
    • Must our guest but a brief time stay?*
    • Ha, the wild geese fly o’er the upland plain!
    • So the Duke must leave, to return no more!
    • Could our guest but two nights remain?
    • O for this was the dragon-robe then worn!
    • Yet O suffer our Duke not thus to go,
    • Nor allow us his loss to mourn!

I. xv. 7.

THE DUKE’S CALMNESS UNDER CALUMNY.

    • The wolf upon his wame would forward fall,
    • Or on his tail would backward tread.
    • The Duke, fine stately man, yet bears with all,
    • And calmly wears the slippers red.§
    • The wolf upon his tail would backward fall,
    • Or forward stumble on his wame.
    • The Duke, fine stately man, yet bears with all;
    • Untarnished is his honoured name.

[* ]By “Chow” is here meant the Royal State, or crown-lands, as distinguished from the Feudal States around. It was the district in which the ancient Chow family had had their seat from bc 1325 to King Wăn’s time (1231-1135). It lay between the rivers Han and Wai (the latter a tributary of the Ho, or Yellow River). By “the South” we are to understand the States or country south of this Chow.

[]The song is supposed to have been made by the inmates of the Palace, the ladies of the harêm, who, it seems, were far from being jealous of her: see Ode 4. Her retiring, gentle ways and chaste disposition made her a proper match as the principal wife of this virtuous prince. For an account of Wăn see the whole of Part III. Book I.; in Odes 2 and 4 of that Book will also be found reference to his bride. Her name was T‘ai-sze.

[]There is a difference of opinion as to the name of the birds: some say they are ospreys or fish-hawks, some a species of duck, found always in pairs and inseparable.

[§ ]Kwân, Kwân, onomatopoetic, like our “quack, quack”; but the Chinese commentators will have it that it is the harmonious call and response of the pairs of birds.

[* ]Strictly, an aquatic gentian,—marsh-flower; sought for its beauty and purity.

[]I give the meaning of these perplexing verbs as found in the old Chinese Dictionary, the Urh-ya.

[]“Lute” is here given for an instrument with a single octave of strings; “harp” for a larger instrument of the same kind with several octaves.

[§ ]Bells and drums were much used in old China as musical instruments.

[]The creeper here specified (Kŏ) has no English name. It is a species from the fibres of which a material for clothing is made.

[* ]A Court-Stewardess, or Mistress of Ceremonies.

[]Referred also to T‘ai-sze.

[]The “mouse-ear” is a Chinese edible fungus; so called from its shape.

[* ]A cup made of rhinoceros’ or unicorn’s horn.

[]The creeper is here again the Kŏ. The bending trees would naturally seem to represent the husband, and the creepers the wife. But, the speakers being the concubines, some suppose that T‘ai-sze is the tree, and those ladies themselves the creepers, delighting in her society, and showing themselves absolutely free from jealousy.

[* ]Under the figure of the locusts—prolific and harmonious—a wish is here expressed for one of the blessings most highly valued by the Chinese,—a numerous progeny; or, if such were already the case with T‘ai-sze, then it is congratulation:—i, translated “may” in the third line, means strictly “it is fitting.” This piece is also supposed to emanate from the Court ladies, who, it is said, were willing even to count their own children as hers!

[]The maiden is not thus directly addressed in the original; but the above is otherwise exactly literal.

[* ]Under King Wăn’s rule men of all, even the humblest, classes who did their duty well and energetically were qualifying themselves for promotion. Two men are said in his reign to have been raised to the rank of Ministers from their rabbit-trapping.

[* ]This simple song is inserted to illustrate the cheerful industry of the time of peace brought about by King Wăn. The women go out collecting ribgrass or plantains for medicinal or other purposes after their ordinary day’s labours are over, and sing as they go.

[]King Wăn had brought about a great reformation in the manners of the people, which heretofore had been very dissolute. The damsels in the neighbourhood of the river Han could now roam unmolested; men could not mix even with the grass-cutters and fuel-gatherers, under the pretence of helping them. It was as if the broad Han and the long Kiang (the Yang-tse) kept them asunder.

[* ]A kind of southernwood is here named in the original.

[]The husband had been absent with Wăn (who at that time was in charge of military affairs) during the wars of Shau, the last and most tyrannical sovereign of the Shang dynasty.

[]Meaning that a year had passed, and spring had come again.

[§ ]This last stanza is full of confused and certainly confusing metaphor. The bream’s tail is not naturally red, but is said to become so after lashing about in shallow waters: such was the husband’s sunburnt and beaten appearance when he returned. I have taken some liberty with the last three lines. In the original the characters literally mean

  • Royal House like flames,
  • Yet though like flames,
  • Father, mother, full nigh.

The Chinese commentators treat the words “house” and “flames” as representing government with barbarity; and Chu Hi, one of the best of these commentators, thinks that the expression “father and mother” refers, by way of contrast, to the paternal authority and protection of Wăn.

[* ]The lin was a fabulous creature, somewhat corresponding to our unicorn. It was supposed to appear only when a race of good rulers arose, as the auspice of all good. Its hoofs hurt nothing living, it did not butt with its brow, and its horn, though formidable-looking, was tipped with soft flesh. The song is in praise of King Wăn’s descendants and kindred. Surely the lin had come! The descriptive “chan chan” in each second line in the original has various meanings assigned to it, which may justify the varied translation given above.

[* ]Shâu was a feudal State west of the Chow of last Book, and adjoining it. Both together were originally one district, known as K‘i-Chow. “The South” refers to the lands south of Shâu.

[]The cockney rhyme must be pardoned; the words are a literal rendering.

[* ]The Ode is said to illustrate the influence of the reforms of King Wăn. The wife of a feudal prince is here praised for her diligence in preparing for her husband’s offerings in the ancestral temple.

[]The white southernwood.

[]Different seasons of the year are thus poetically referred to in the opening lines of each verse. The ferns were edible ones.

[* ]Further illustrating the reformations made by King Wăn. The women by the new rules are able to protect themselves against forcible seizure and marriage. Dr. Legge thus cites the account given by an ancient writer of the origin of these lines: “A lady of Shin was promised in marriage to a man of Fung. The ceremonial offerings from his family, however, were not so complete as the rules required; and when he wished to meet her and convey her home, she and her friends refused to carry out the engagement. The other party brought the case to trial, and the lady made this Ode, asserting that while a single ceremony was not complied with, she would not allow herself to be forced from her parent’s house.” The language of the piece is, however, very difficult and obscure.

[* ]Wu kiâ, lit., “without home”, but the commentators twist it into meaning “without going through the rites of engagement and betrothal.”

[]Kiâ shih puh tsuh;—“kiâ shih” often stands for husband and wife, and “puh tsuh” (lit., not sufficient) may simply mean “not quite.”

[]These seem to be the meanings of kih and tsung, as variations from the p‘i, the woolly skin of the first stanza. The idea of the writer seems to be that, however faded and worn these garments were, they still retained and exhibited entire their dignity and self-respect.

[* ]The husband being constantly called forth for military expeditions, the wife is led to think of him by the occurrence of storms, to which he must be exposed.

[* ]Lit., “callings in life are various.” The ladies of the bed-chamber, or inferior wives,—quasi servants,—are here represented, like those in Book I. (Odes 1 and 4), as recognizing their position, and as being free from envy of the lady who occupies the rank of “first wife.”

[* ]The words are put into the mouths of some Prince’s concubines. The new wife was at first jealous of these, but afterwards, owing, it is said, to the example of T‘ai-sze in King Wăn’s household, she ceased to be so.

[]Helping words are used in the translation, to give more clearly the idea in these lines of separation and reunion.

[]Native expositors find here an instance of maidenly modesty and virtue (another result of Wăn’s beneficent rule); but who will take the concluding lines in this light?

[* ]Lit., like a jewel.

[]The name “Ki,” in the original, was the surname of the House of Chow.

[]This was doubtless the son of one of the feudal lords or princes. Such marriages tended to strengthen the union of the States and the throne.

[* ]Tsow Yu was the name of a fabulous beast resembling a tiger, supposed to appear only in the time of princes of rare benevolence and uprightness. There is a later explanation of the term, which makes it the name of a celebrated hunter; but the old view is more probably the right one.

[* ]It is very probable that the first five Odes in this Book, and the third of the Odes of Wei (Bk. V.), are to be taken as referring to the same lady,—the wife of Duke Ch‘wang, of Wei (who ruled that state bc 756-734). Putting the six together, and the last first—as the Epithalamium—we have part of the story of this admirable and beautiful lady (Ch‘wang Kiang), as given in one or two histories of those times. The chief points in that story may be stated here. Ch‘wang Kiang had had the misfortune to be childless, and was in consequence rudely treated, and at length supplanted by another wife. The second wife, another lady of rank, bore a son, but he died in childhood. There was, however, another son (Hwan) by a concubine, the cousin of Ch‘wang Kiang, whom the duke looked upon as his successor, and Ch‘wang Kiang, at his wish, readily adopted the child as her own. On the death of the duke, a third son, Chow-Yu, the child of a concubine of meaner birth, brought trouble into the family, and in course of time murdered Hwan, and tried, but without success, to usurp his position.

The lamentations in many of these Odes are the usual tale of the misery resulting upon Eastern polygamy and concubinage; yet they reveal much that is noble and good in the character of the lady Ch‘wang.

[* ]See Ode 4. The reference to the sun and moon changing positions seems to point to her own abandonment for another.

[* ]This is truly Chinese. Ch‘wang Kiang feels her degraded position, and the expression of her grief takes a very metaphorical turn. Green is a colour less esteemed than yellow. All things are inverted, and out of place.

[]Lit., I muse upon the ancients,—i.e., the examples of great women of old time.

[]Grass-cloth. She must even now wear a cold dress in cold weather.

[* ]The supplanted wife seems to have lived harmoniously, and even very amicably, with the lady who took her place. In this Ode she pours out her grief at the departure of the latter, who after the murder of her son Hwan returned home to her parents.

[]Chung is properly the “second” sister or daughter. Her name was Tai Kwei.

[]Lit., the former lord. From this we learn that the husband was now dead.

[* ]This and the following piece ought properly to have been placed before Ode 3.

[* ]A city in Wei.

[]Chow-yu (see note on Ode 1 of this Book), after his murder of Hwan, found the people disaffected towards him, and sought popularity by directing an expedition against Ch‘in, in the South, for which he obtained the co-operation of these two States, Ch‘in and Sung.

[* ]Seven sons accuse themselves of being the cause of their mother’s discontent and fretfulness. It is supposed the fault was her own, and that, although having so many sons, she desired more; and the sons, in making these lines, and laying the blame on themselves, wished delicately to recall her to a sense of duty. The Ode is said by the Chinese commentators to illustrate the licentious manners of Wei. The opening lines of each verse point, by way of contrast, to the glad content of nature all around her.

[* ]The wife of some officer tells of their mutual regret at his absence on foreign service.

[]The husband’s comrades.

[]Lit., coveteousness.

[* ]i.e., the gourds (the shells of which were used in crossing rivers) were not yet ripe.

[]The proper custom, when a man wished to have a day fixed for the bringing home of his bride, was to send a live goose to her parents’ house at the early dawn.

[]Marriages took place in the spring, and the ceremony of sending the goose was to be observed some time before, ere the winter’s ice began to break up. It may be that this explains the allusion to the swollen ford.

The whole piece is very difficult of interpretation, and I see in it no more than the expostulation of a lady against her lover, who seems to have desired to dispense with the usual formalities.

[* ]In explanation of this piece we are told that in the time of Duke Swân, of Wei, the chief of the adjoining state of Li had been driven out of his territory by the Tih hordes, and had sought help in Wei; but was long detained there by false promises, and was reduced to great straits, and evidently treated with indignity. His officers, while showing attachment to him, complain of his hardships and their own, and urge him to return to Li.

[* ]See note on the last Ode. The officers of the Chief of Li complain of the delay and indifference of their brother officers of Wei in their extremity.

[]Lit., O ye younger and elder uncles.

[]Satire. The Duke of Wei was employing his best men as buffoons.

[* ]and

[]These refer to various dances. See I. vi. 3, and II. vi. 4.

[]In the West-country was the seat of Chow, where the rulers knew better than to use such a man as this merely as a dancer.

[§ ]A princess of Wei, married to the chief of some other State, desires to visit her native land. This it would have been permissible to do, had her parents been still living; but these being dead, she could not do so. She forms her plans for the journey, and thinks that a visit to her relatives might not be objected to, but again shrinks back in doubt as to the propriety of so doing.

[]One of the chief rivers of Wei.

[]The ladies of the palace, who had come with her.

[* ]Places in Wei through which she had passed on her wedding journey. The terms translated “god-speed cup” refer to the parting feast which was usual on the return of the escorting friends. At this feast an offering was first made to propitiate “the spirits of the way.”

[]Lit., “I think of the Fei-ts‘ün, and for it am perpetually sighing.” Fei-ts‘un is said to be the name of a river in Wei; but the words signify fertile springs.

[]Cities of Wei. We have met with the latter in Ode 6.

[§ ]An officer of Wei, hard pressed by work and poor pay, sets forth his grievances and his meek submission to them as the will of Heaven, yet slyly means the whole to be a rebuke to the Governwent. “Passing out by the north gate” is an apt introduction to what follows, as symbolizing the way to cold and darkness. Cf. beginning of next Ode.

[* ]In a time of tyranny and confusion in Wei, the peasants felt compelled to emigrate to another State.

[]The opening lines are merely symbolical of the oppression felt by the people.

[* ]The fox and the crow were regarded as ill omens.

[]This is said to be directed against the times; therefore, according to this view, the opening words, “the modest maiden,” must be understood from the lover’s point of view.

[]The city wall.

[* ]Duke Swân, one of the most dissolute of the rulers of Wei, had contracted for the marriage of his son Kĭ with a lady of T‘si. But when the father saw her, he became so enamoured of her beauty that he took her himself, and lodged her in a tower which he caused to be built on an island in the Ho. She is afterwards known by the name of Swân-Kiang.

[]Quite a romantic story is attached to this piece, which may be told in the words of the commentator Chu-Hi. Swân-Kiang (see note on last Ode) became the mother of two sons, Sheu and Sŏ. Sŏ and his mother brought some charge against Kĭ, the son of a former wife of the Duke (see again note to last Ode); and the Duke, believing it, sent him on some errand to T‘si, and employed some ruffians to waylay and murder him. Sheu heard of this, and warned Kĭ of his danger. Kĭ answered: “The Duke has given me a command, and I cannot disobey it.” Whereupon Sheu secretly disguised himself and took the journey himself, and was killed in the place of his brother. When Kĭ came to the spot he cried: “The Duke gave orders that I should be killed. What wrong has Sheu committed?” The murderers killed him also. The country folks were hurt at this, and made this Ode.

[* ]On the name Yung see note on I. iii. page 54.

[]The widow’s name is given as Kung-Kiang. Her husband, Kung-poh, son of the Marquis Hi (bc 854-813), died early, and her mother wished her to marry again, contrary to what she regarded as right and proper. She made a solemn vow to remain true to her departed husband, and here commemorates the fact.

[]During the lifetime of the parents, sons wore their hair in two tufts over the temples.

[§ ]image, Mu ya t‘ien chi. Cf. II. v. 8, last line of 4th stanza.

[]The “wrong” meant here is re-marriage. To abstain from this “wrong” was, and is still accounted a great virtue in China.

[* ]Contrast with the last. Swân-Kiang (see on I. iii. 18) was now a widow, and had consented to live with Hwan, the son of her late husband by a former wife. The people condemned this as incest, but dared only speak of it indirectly.

[]I have coined this name for a prickly creeper which has not yet, so far as I know, been identified.

[]Tuh (image) here to recite, or hum over.

[* ]Satire on Swân-Kiang. The satire consists probably in the exaggeration of her beauty, but chiefly in the concluding lines of the first and second stanzas, which so quaintly spoil all that goes before and after.

[* ]The names of the plants seem to be of little importance, only introduced in the original to rhyme with the names of the women.

[]A district in Wei.

[]The eldest daughter of the house that bore that family name. So with Yih and Yung. All three were great names; why introduced here in a popular love song? Probably it is satire, and aimed by the people at their superiors.

[§ ]The names in the last three lines are those of small localities in the district of Mei.

[* ]The wanton ones are Swân-Kiang and Hwan, living together as stated in note on Ode 2 of this Book. The piece is intended as satire, the words being put into the mouth of Sŏ (step-brother of Hwan), who was then ruling, and ought not to have permitted such conduct in the palace. Bitter satire it is, and truly Chinese!

[]Duke Wăn—about bc 660. Soon after the time of Duke Swân the State of Wei almost collapsed, and its capital was in ruins; but the country found a reformer in this new ruler Wăn, otherwise known as Wei (image), a son of Hwan and Swân-Kiang.

[]Ting was a small constellation composed of some stars in Pegasus. Its culmination at the termination of husbandry-work signalled the proper time for commencing building operations.

[§ ]Lit., measuring or computing by the sun; the aspect of the palace was thus determined.

[]This probably points to the duke’s love of music.

[* ]The walls of the old capital.

[]A city on the hills of Ts‘u.

[]Scil., to urge and encourage the labourers in their work.

[§ ]I believe this is the correct translation of this concluding passage, though it differs from all I have so far seen. It agrees also with most native commentaries.

[]Said to refer to the change in the people’s morals brought about by Duke Wăn of Wei.

[]The rainbow was supposed to be the result or offspring of some irregular union between the male and female principles in nature (Yin and Yang). People were ashamed now to point at the rainbow; greater modesty was seen, and marriage unions were formed according to the established rules.

[* ]The meaning seems to be that irregular or unlawful love does not last long. This is contrary to our ideas of “a rainbow in the morning,” so far as the rain is concerned.

[]Fearing the time may never come, and taking the matter into their own hands, instead of leaving it to the parents.

[]See note explanatory of the last Ode. This refers to the altered tone of manners rather than morals. Man without manners was a self-contradiction; and no more should a man continue to live without them than a rat without skin, teeth, and limbs. In the original the words image and image (i, chi, and li), all represent, with slightly different shades of meaning, the same thing,—propriety in the outward conduct.

[§ ]Lit., “See, the rat has teeth”; but the word for teeth often has the sense given above.

[* ]There are conflicting opinions as to the meaning of this Ode, even amongst the old Chinese interpreters. It seems to illustrate, further, the good effects of the rule of Duke Wăn of Wei;—showing the kind of welcome accorded to men of worth, and showing also that the visits of such would be attended with profit to those who entertained them.

[]It will be observed that as one of these worthies approaches a town the attendance upon him gradually increases.

[]A daughter of Swân-Kiang, married to the baron of Hiu, hears of the troubles in Wei, her native State (see note on Ode 6), and wishes to return home to condole and consult with her brother in his distress; this was not permissible, her parents being dead, and some great officer was despatched instead; but, unlike another princess of Wei (see I. iii. 14), she clung to her wish as being pardonable under the circumstances, and here expostulates with the ministers of Hiu, although yielding to their decision.

[* ]The “Mang” (image) is described as a “mother-of-pearl” lily, supposed to have the quality of dissipating cares. The words “that care can kill” are added in the translation, as otherwise no meaning would be conveyed.

[]Lit., the great State. This would be that of Ts‘i, then the most powerful.

[* ]Said to be directed against Duke Chwang (bc 756-734). Under his rule men of virtue and talent withdrew from public service and lived in obscurity.

[]The two first characters image may be translated a dozen different ways; but they do not seem important.

[]Lit., speaks or talks.

[§ ]Lit., sleeping and waking.

[]I have ventured to differ from all commentators and translators I have seen in the rendering of this line. I take the “vow” as the object and not as the verb, for as a verb it has no object in any of the three verses.

[]Pivot—centre.

[* ]On the reception of Chwang-Kiang as bride at the Court of Wei. See note on the first Ode of Book III.

In the first stanza the lady’s high connections are proclaimed; in the second (in true Chinese metaphor!) her personal charms; in the third her arrival in Wei; and in the last the splendour of her new surroundings.

[* ]This pathetic Ode tells its own tale. The Chinese say that in it “a lewd woman who has been rejected by her husband repeats her story to herself, and so expresses her repentance”! All that can be said against her is that after much resistance she consented to marry her lover at last without going through all the prescribed forms of marriage.

[]The arranger of marriages between the parents—an indispensable personage; see I. viii. 6 and I. xv. 5.

[]The lover’s place of abode.

[§ ]Divining—trying his fortune.

[* ]There is a small dove that suffers from eating these berries.

[]An allusion to the words of the marriage vows.

[* ]A lady of Wei, married in some other State, recalls here the scenes of her youth.

[]The K‘i valley seems to have been noted for its bamboos (see Ode 1 of this Book).

[]The Ts‘ün-yün, known as the Hundred Springs.

[* ]The hwan lan is a delicate creeping plant, full of milky juice, unable, it is said, to rise from the ground without support,—introduced therefore here to characterize the weak youth, otherwise so precocious.

[]An ivory or horn stiletto, worn by adults for the loosening of knots about the dress; said to be an emblem also of capacity for difficult business.

[]This ring, also of ivory or horn, was worn by archers on the right thumb in shooting, but at other times was one of the girdle ornaments.

[§ ]A daughter of Swân-Kiang had been married to Duke Hwan of Sung. She bore him a son, but was afterwards divorced, and returned to her native Wei. On her son’s succession to the dukedom, she desired to go back to him, but the terms of her divorce, and probably her own sense of the proprieties, forbade her doing so. The river was wide, and the way long, that separated her from the son, but she regards these as nothing to overcome, had there been no other obstacle.

[* ]In a time of anarchy and confusion in Wei, there were many who could not marry. Here a widow or unmarried woman has met with a vagabond male, and his forlorn condition has so roused her matronly instincts that she is willing to marry him and look after him! Such is the usual interpretation of the piece. In the ancient Preface to the Book of Poetry it is said to be directed against the times. “The males and females of Wei were losing the time for marriage. . . . Anciently, when a State was suffering from the misery of famine, the rules were relaxed so that there might be many marriages; and men and women who had no partners were brought together, in order to promote the increase of the people.”

[* ]The names of the stones in all three stanzas are difficult to give. Known ones are given for the unknown.

[* ]This is the expansion of the single title “Wang” (royal). The royal domain or State was in Eastern Chow. Fung and Hâu were two successive capitals (see III. i. 10). On the accession of King P‘ing, there was a removal still further East (bc 769), and from this time the dynasty began to wane.

[]The old Preface says: “A great officer of Chow, travelling on the public service, came to the old capital, and, as he passed by, found the places of the ancestral temple, palaces, and other public buildings, all overgrown with millet. Struck with sorrow for the downfall of the House of Chow, he moved about the place in an undecided way, as if he could not bear to leave it, and made this piece.”

[* ]The slight variations in the second and third stanzas seem to point to his lingering some months in the neighbourhood.

[* ]Properly, the mouth-piece of the reed-organ.

[]A dancer’s fan or screen, Both of these meanings are, how ever, attempted to be brought out by the bracketed words in the fourth lines.

[]The explanation of the metaphorical allusion to the water and faggots seems to be that as the course of a stream is choked, and the water deepens till it finds some way of proceeding, so the thought of home-ties was growing upon the soldiers till it threatened some ebullition.

[* ]The old Chinese interpreters here put the blame for the separation on the government. “When the government is good, husbands and wives support each other; when the State is disordered they separate.”

[* ]Referred to the time of King Hwan (bc 719-696), when the States revolted from him, and his army was defeated, and calamity followed calamity.

[]By the wily hares are meant those statesmen who had been the cause of these disorders, and sought to escape the consequence of their own acts; by the pheasants, those who acted straightforwardly, and suffered.

[* ]i.e., flourishing on their native soil.

[]Lit., far from my brothers, i.e., clansmen or kin. The old interpreters give a historical significance to this Ode. “King P‘ing’s relatives find fault with him for slighting ‘the nine classes of his kindred.’ ”

[* ]The Kŏ, as in I. i. 2 et al.

[]A kind of southernwood. The plants named seem only to have been chosen for the sake of the rhymes in the original.

[]In the decline of Chow there was much licentiousness between the sexes, but here and there it was curbed by stringent officers. Here is an instance of fear to elope under such an officer’s rule.

[§ ]Lit., like the young sedge—one of the five colours on the robes of great officials. Dark red, another of these colours, is referred to in the second stanza.

[* ]Lit., as; but here the phrase has the appearance of an oath.

[* ]Ch‘ing was a feudal State of later foundation (805 bc). Duke Wu was its second ruler (773-742).

[]Jet-black was the official colour of the king’s ministers’ robes, worn at their own audiences.

[]The people would first make sure that all preparations were made for him in the Court-lodgings (which were sometimes out of repair), and then furnish his table. Evidently the verses were written on his succession to the dukedom.

[* ]Chung (image) is the second of two or more brothers. The eldest is called pih (image), the second chung (image), the third shuh (image), the fourth ki (image). In the next two pieces we have a shuh, a third brother; but this appellation is often given to younger brothers indiscriminately.

[* ]See note to last piece. This Shuh is said to have been a son of Duke Wu of Ch‘ing; and of him Chu-hi remarks in his commentary, “though a scape-grace, he yet won all: his countrymen loved him.”

[]The two outer horses (of the four). “Like dancers”—moving with regular step.

[* ]Viz., to beat up the game.

[]Being a little behind the two inside horses, they presented the wedge-shaped appearance of a flock of wild-geese.

[* ]Duke Wăn of Ch‘ing (bc 662-627), through dislike to his minister Kâu K‘ih, despatched him with some troops to the Ho, and he was stationed at different places along the river without being recalled. Evidently he enjoyed his banishment.

[]A city of Ch‘ing.

[]These weapons seem to have had hooks near the point for grappling, and from these hooks the plumes of v. 1 were suspended. At this second stage of their banishment the plumes were evidently worn off.

[* ]Seven of these were usually worn strung together with pearls, dangling from the girdle. They would vary in costliness with the rank of the wearer, but as a rule seem to have been of precious stones.

[* ]A woman’s playful mockery of her lover.

[]The fu-su (image) tree does not seem to be identified.

[]Tse-tu and Tse-ch‘ung are probably not to be taken as names, but as somewhat equivalent to our Adonis and Apollo. Mencius refers to a Tse-tu who lived about bc 800, as the type of a handsome man. Tse-ch’ung, after the allusion to the lofty fir, may refer to some other tall and handsome person, then well known.

[§ ]Lit., the “wandering dragon”—a sort of marsh plant.

[]The old expositors say that this piece is directed against the ruler of the State, who was weak while his ministers were strong. The speakers, according to this view, would be the inferior officers, addressing their superiors; and the “fading tree” would be the decaying state of the country. But later expositors see in it the solicitations of immodest women. The position which the piece occupies would seem to favour this latter view; yet it ought to be mentioned that a historical interpretation has been given to almost all these Odes, whether they will bear such or not.

[* ]“Far” only in the sense of his never showing himself.

[* ]The sounds of the cock’s crowing are thus varied in the original for the sake of the rhyme.

[* ]This seems to have been a proverbial expression, and capable of different applications. Here it seems to point to the inability of slander to affect the hearts of those who are joined together in the bonds of friendship. They are like bundles of thorns or fuel.

[* ]Evidently these flowers were of a medicinal character, and the annual search for them in spring was now undertaken with a very different object.

[* ]The precise flower here mentioned is the small sweet-smelling peony.

[* ]Ts‘i was one of the first and greatest of the feudal States of Chow. It lay between the Yellow River and the Sea, in the modern province of Shan-tung.

[* ]A satire on the hunters of Ts‘i in general. The writer represents one as unable to praise another without praising himself.

[]Silken strings depending from the head-dress over the ears, and strung with gems.

[]The variations of colour seem only introduced to vary the rhymes; or it may be that as the lover approached nearer more of his jowels became visible.

[* ]This piece is said by all to illustrate the licentious intercourse of the men and women of Ts‘i, and their disregard of all rules of propriety; and the visitor is taken to mean the lady. But the original is ambiguous, and I have therefore preserved the ambiguity in the translation. The visitor may be either male or female (imagech‘u che): the same expression is used of a male in I. iv. 9.

[]I take imagetseih and imagefa adverbially.

[]A satire on the disorder and irregularity of the Court of Ts‘i.

[* ]Or, cannot keep count of the hours of night. As the garden hedge marks off private property, so the dawn of day is the boundary line between working and non-working hours.

[]Said to be directed—the first two stanzas—against the Duke Siang of Ts‘i, and the last two against Duke Hwan of Lu. Duke Siang loved a princess of his own family named Wăn-Kiang, though married to Duke Hwan. She reciprocated his love, and persuaded her husband to accompany her on a visit to Ts‘i, during which visit he was murdered by Siang. The piece was evidently composed before this climax was reached. Date about bc 700.

[]“The five (kinds of).” More freely we might translate,—

  • “Pairs we may find for everything,
  • From fibre-shoe to bonnet-string.”

[* ]Complaint against Hwan’s carelessness with regard to his wife.

[]The usual interpretation is a historical one, and this line is taken quite literally, “Do not think of people far away,” referring, it is thought, to Duke Siang’s ambition; but is it not more in keeping with the last stanza to translate imagesze yün jên as wanting to be a man—to overleap the distance in time?

[]There was a ceremony of capping when the youth arrived at maturity.

[* ]Lit., with a second ring.

[]Chu-Hi’s explanation of these words, as “full-whiskered,” and “full-bearded,” make the piece ridiculous.

[]Lit., with two rings attached to a third.

[§ ]After the murder of her husband (see on Ode 6), the lady continues her unlawful visits to Ts‘i, unrestrained by her son, Duke Chwang. His power over her was no better than that of a broken fish-trap over the fish.

[* ]In true Chinese fashion the complaint against him is not openly expressed. The fault bewailed in the opening exclamation in every verse was his weakness in not restraining the lawless conduct of his mother already referred to. See note on Ode 9.

[* ]This Wei is different from that of the 5th Book. It was a small State situated within the modern province of Shan-si, and was incorporated in the seventh century bc with the State of Tsin.

[]Lit., withdraw to the left.

[]A line seems to have been lost here, which I have ventured to replace with the bracketed words, the meaning of the whole verse being that though the gentleman was outwardly correct in all things in public, he was a niggard at home.

[* ]The Făn, or Hwun, is a tributary of the Ho, and the capital of Wei was near their junction.

[]In all the stanzas, “not”=one different from (imagei ü).

It is not meant that these high officials actually shared the labours of the peasantry; only their parsimony was such that they might well be mentioned side by side with these.

[* ]His opponents in the government.

[* ]This Ode is a favourite one as giving an example of filial piety, and of the feelings which ought to exist between parents and children, and elder and younger brothers. It is quoted as such in commentaries on the Shing ü hâu (image), a well-known school book.

[* ]On account of the confusion in the government and the dangers threatening the State.

For similar sentiments see III. iii. 3, verse 6:—

  • “Better be farmers—working men—
  • Than live on such emolument.”

[]Dr. Legge has a lengthy note on the question “Why ten acres are here specified?”, and on the allotments made to farmers on the original division of the country; but does not see the force of the mention of “ten” acres. As a Chinese acre (mau) is less than a sixth of an English one, a plot of ten acres would represent one of the very smallest holdings; and with such some men could live contentedly.

[]This wood was much used in making carriages (see III. i. 2, v. 6). This will explain the “spoke-wood” and “tire-wood” in the 2nd and 3rd stanzas.

[* ]There is great diversity of opinion as to the last two lines. I think they must refer to the woodman, and translate accordingly.

[* ]Huge. The State officials had grown fat on their extortion, and were no less troublesome than rats.

[]Borders, frontiers.

[* ]One of the oldest and greatest of the feudal States. Its name was at an early date,—earlier perhaps than that of these poems,—changed to Tsin, the latter taken from the river Tsin, which flowed to the south of it. It lay in the present province of Shan-si.

[]For the time of the appearance of the cricket in the house, see the Odes of Pin, I. xv. 1, verse 5.

[* ]Here is an instance where the introductory lines seem to have absolutely no connection with the subject, and only supply words to rhyme with.

[* ]Ch’âu, lord of Tsin (bc 744-738) had handed over to his uncle Hwan the important city of K‘iu-yuh; and the growing popularity of the latter led to a conspiracy by which it was sought to bring the whole State under his rule. The above is the song of the secret followers of Hwan, addressed to one of his captains.

[]i.e., the power of Ch‘âu is greatly weakened.

[]The robe described in the two first stanzas is the sacrificial robe of a ruling prince.

[§ ]Yuh is the K‘iu-yuh mentioned above.

[]Kâu was another city in the vicinity.

[* ]Supposed to refer to Hwan-shuh (see last Ode), and his house.

[]The pepper-plant is in China an emblem of prolificness; but it may be that this Ode originally suggested it. It might even, taken with the last Ode, refer simply to the number of Hwan’s constituents.

[]Why unexpected is a question not yet settled. All that the Ancient Preface says is that the piece is directed against the disorders of the State, and that owing to such disorders it was impossible for the people to marry at the proper season, i.e. in the Spring.

The allusion to the fuel-binding may have some reference to the bonds of wedlock; but it is perhaps more probable that both this and the allusion to the Three Stars (if these are the three prominent ones in Orion, visible there in the 10th month) simply express the season of the year,—winter.

[* ]Lit., at an angle. The three positions in the stanzas seem to point to the time of night—first high, then declining, and lastly setting.

[]The contrast should be noted.

[* ]This is one of the most perplexing pieces. In the Ancient Preface we are told that it is directed against the times, and that the people of Tsin thus stigmatized those who were in exalted positions and who failed to show compassion to them. But the question is, to whom is it addressed? I cannot but agree with Victor von Strauss in his opinion that the people are appealing to the ruler to make some change in his own interests. There is then some sense in the 3rd and 4th lines.

[]So, according to the Urh-ya.

[* ]Said to have been written in a time of incessant warfare, when of course agriculture was neglected and the parents left to live as they could.

[]The fluttering of the birds would seem to represent the restless movements of the army, and also, as these particular birds were not wont to light on trees, having no hind-claws, their difficulty in doing so is an apt image of the peasant engaged in soldiering.

[* ]Duke Wu, the grandson of Hwan of K‘iu-yuh (see Ode 3), having become, in the year 678 bc, complete master in the State of Tsin, sent to the king some of his ill-gotten treasures as a bribe, and was thereupon invested legally with the rulership.

[]Seven of the ten royal orders were worn by a feudal prince in his own State; six when he was serving at Court as the king’s minister.

The opening lines show the arrogance of the man. He speaks as already potentially possessing the authority which he demands.

[]Tsze for T‘ien tsze, Son of Heaven. So Chu-Hi. The king was Li, alias Hi (bc 681-676).

[§ ]Originally supposed to be a satire on Duke Wu (see last Ode), who dwelt by himself and would not entertain the worthy men around him,—a view now given up.

[]An image of the writer himself.

[* ]These last lines do not rhyme in the original.

[]The Kŏ. These lines seem to point to conjugal affection, or protection.

[]“The lone one” might mean either the dead husband or the widow.

[§ ]It is usual still in China to use hard pillows of wood or other material, upon which the upper part of the neck rests without disarranging the elaborately dressed hair.

[* ]The word image (kwai) is used, as if the bridal journey was to be taken over again.

[]On this particularly barren mountain none of these things ever grew. As likely were they to be found there as that truth should be found in idle gossiping stories. These opening lines may not really be interrogative, but by taking them so the sense becomes more apparent.

[* ]See note on previous page.

[* ]The State of Ts‘in was about 900 bc quite a small fief in the North-West. Many of its inhabitants belonged to the wild Mongolian tribes, and probably also some of its princes. The State grew by degrees into importance, and in the third century bc the ruling Chief made himself master of the whole of China and established the Ts‘in Dynasty.

The first Ode seems to celebrate the growing dignity of the feudal lord, and the gayer life at his Court.

[* ]Lit., males.

[]The light vehicles, with small bells at the horses’ bits, seem to have been used for beating up the game, and for conveying home the dogs; or, in the latter case, it may have been that the tinkling bells simply kept together the dogs.

[]“Long and short-nosed.”

[§ ]The first six lines in each stanza give a rapid confused picture of the equipments of the husband on his setting out to the wars,—a picture which is ever present to the wife’s mind; and in the last four she explains herself and passes on to the thought of his present surroundings. The Expedition would be against the wild tribes of the West.

[]Some provision for keeping under control the outside horses.

[* ]i.e., at the ends of the traces.

[]The colours of the horses throughout are only approximate in the translation. One of them is described, in one syllable, as a horse with a white left foot!

[]Lit., like a jewel.

[§ ]Two interior reins were attached to the carriage front, and these are those referred to in the 6th line.

[]A pair of shields, showing the imperial emblem, stood on the front of the carriage.

[]An instrument to keep the bows from warping.

[* ]No other title than this which I venture can well be given to this piece. All Chinese guesses as to the meaning seem far-fetched and absurd. Perhaps the “happy mean,” which so many miss, is the answer to the riddle.

[* ]A noted mountain in the State of Ts‘in, at the foot of which was the ruler’s seat. The beauties of the scenery seem introduced in comparison with the ruler’s new adornments.

[]imageKi and imaget’ang, are thus explained by Chu Hi and his followers.

[]A practice evidently learnt from their barbarous neighbours in the West, and unknown in any other State in China.

[§ ]It seems hopeless to seek any meaning in these introductory lines.

[]“Dead” is not in the original, but the sense requires it. Duke Muh died 620 bc, and not only these three clansmen, but 170 persons in all, it is said, were buried alive with him.

[* ]Lit., yonder azure Heaven!

[* ]A long history is attached to this piece, for which see Dr. Legge’s “Shi King,” Vol. I. p. 203. The writer is Duke K‘ang of Ts‘in (son of Duke Muh of Ode 6), at that time, however, only heir-apparent; and the cousin was Ch‘ung-urh, afterwards Duke Wan of Tsin.

[]i.e., on the king’s acknowledgment of him as rightful heir, when the king would present him with the car of state. The cousin had, however, to fight his way in order to regain his rightful possessions; and the danger attending this enterprise seems to be the cause of the anxiety expressed in verse 2.

[* ]Supposed to satirize Duke K’ang’s treatment of the old servants of his father (Muh).

[* ]Ch‘in was a marquisate in the present province of Ho-nan, given originally by King Wu (1121-1114 bc) to Mwan, his chief potter, who claimed descent from the Emperor Shun. Mwan is known as Duke Hu. His capital was built around, or near, the Yun-hill mentioned in the two first pieces.

[]Lit., is without regard.

[]Egret-plumes, or fans, were used in dancing (see I. vi. 3).

[§ ]The body of these drums was of porcelain or earthenware.

[* ]Kiang was the clan name of the ruling House of Ts‘i, and Tse that of the ducal House of Sung.

[* ]Ki, strictly one of the House of Chow, but often used as a euphemism.

[]This is in the original another species of hemp. The three varieties of plants mentioned—out of which clothing-material was made—were probably cut and prepared at different seasons.

[]“Renew” is not in the text, but the argument I have adopted would suggest it as understood.

[* ]Lych-gate, lit., “tomb-gate,” whether a gate of the city leading to a cemetery, or the cemetery-gate, is doubtful. The opening lines in each stanza are ominous of evil.

[]Evidently the person held some important position in the State.

[* ]This Ode brings us down to the time nearest of all to that of Confucius. Duke Ling ruled in Ch‘in bc 612-598. Chu-lin, or Chu, was a city of Ch‘in, where resided Hià-ki, a daughter of Duke Muh of Ch‘ing, now married to an officer of Ch‘in. Duke Ling’s intrigues with this lady were notorious.

[]Hià-nan was the lady’s son. The duke excuses himself, saying he seeks only the son’s companionship. The son afterwards murdered him. The whole story connected with this intrigue is to be found in the Tso-chün, and the Ode is only interesting to those who are acquainted with that history.

[* ]The writer, according to Chu-Hi, is a woman.

[* ]Kwai, like Ch‘in, was a small but ancient fief in the present province of Ho-nan, but about the eighth century bc it was incorporated with Ch‘ing. It lay between the rivers Tsin and Wai.

[]The lambskin was for wear in the ruler’s Court or hall at public receptions, &c.; and the foxfur robe only at the Court of the king.

[]The writer was evidently some officer of Kwai, justly offended at this irregularity and vain display.

[* ]The old custom had been that mourning for parents should be worn for three years. Now, evidently, the sight of it was rare.

[]White was then, as now, the colour of the mourning-dress. The white bonnet or cap was to be worn during the third year.

[]Knee-covers made of white leather.

[* ]In opposition to the view of Dr. Legge and Herr von Strauss, who follow Chu-Hi in his interpretation of this Ode, I prefer the simpler one of Mao, and translate tao—“ways,” “manners.” I inclined to do so in Odes 6 and 10 of Book VIII.; but there the word and context are equivocal.

[]So here I think Chu-Hi has beclouded the simple construction, although the terseness of the language allows of some variation in translating.

[]Western Chow, the capital which lay west of this State of Kwai.

[§ ]Probably the meaning of the whole verse is that purity and patriotism are synonymous.

[* ]Ts‘âu was a small Earldom lying in the present province of Shan-tung. It was annexed to Sung in the fifth century bc

[]The insect (fau-yiu) in the original is a dung-fly, an ephemera,—otherwise called the dung-beetle, or tumble-dung. Fau-yiu literally means “floating—wandering.” Our “butterfly” suits the spirit and meaning of the piece. The fops were probably some persons of high standing at Court.

[]The last lines are generally held to be very puzzling. The above is a verbatim rendering, the “I’ll” only being added.

[§ ]Lit., “hempen clothes.”

[* ]Satire by some man of worth, who, along with a few others like himself, had been dismissed from office, and saw a number of useless and inexperienced men about the Court in their stead.

[]Officers employed to meet and to escort guests.

[]Servants about the Court. Only persons of high rank were entitled to wear the scarlet aprons.

[§ ]Our “mushroom-growth,” and “morning cloud that vanisheth.”

[]There is nothing to show whose wives are intended. They may be the neglected wives of those “striplings” in office, or the wives of men such as the writer who had no employment. The Chinese commentators say,—some, that they represent the worthy men themselves! some, that the people of the State are meant!

[* ]The turtle-dove. The number of her brood—seven—in the original is unnatural, but “seven” there makes a rhyme with the fourth line!

[]Lit., his heart bound, &c.

[]Lit., for 10,000 years.

[* ]The fountain points to the king, now not fostering, but chilling, his people.

[]Chow-king. King=capital, as in Pe-king, Nan-king.

[]The reference to the Chief of Siun is obscure. Probably, as is supposed by some, he was a sort of vice-roy, exercising anthority over a number of the States, and was tuined to in times of trouble.

[* ]Pin was the name of a district in the west of the present province of Shen-si, and was the home of the ancestry of the Chow family from 1796 to 1325 bc

[]We might almost call the piece the “Georgies” of Pin. It is said to have been written by the famous Duke of Chow (Chow-kung,—son of King Wăn, and brother of King Wu) for his young nephew and ward, known afterwards as King Ch‘ing, so the date assigned to it would be between 1116 and 1112 bc (the period during which Chow-kung was Regent). The language is put into the mouth of the farmers, and is supposed to represent the life of the country people some centuries before its date.

[]Lit., sinks the Fire-star. The Heart of the Scorpion was so called. It is computed that about this time this star passed the meridian in August. The first month therefore would begin during our February.

[§ ]Lit., the first’s days. The nomenclature of some older calendar seems to have been used for the winter months; but I have continued the numbers known to us,—11th, 12th, 1st, 2nd.

[* ]i.e., following the plough. Any one who has seen ploughing in China through mud and water nearly knee-deep will understand this “lilting of toes.”

[]Lit., have open-air meals on the south-lying acres.

[]Or, white southernwood. Besides being used in sacrifice (see I. ii. 2) this herb served in some way to assist in the hatching of the silkworm.

[§ ]i.e., to be married.

[]No certain month, but that in which the silkworm creeps out, when it must be fed with mulberry leaves.

[* ]A general hunt, which was intended also to keep the people in training for war.

[]In this verse three separate insects seem to be named, the locust, the “spinner,” and the cricket; but the Chinese commentators say they are names of the same insect at different stages of its existence.

[* ]An offering to the Spirit who was supposed to preside over the cold season.

[* ]This Ode is said to have been written by the Duke of Chow to vindicate his fidelity at a time when he was accused of treachery towards the young King Ch‘ing (see Note 2 on last Ode). A little history must here be given, which will throw light on this as well as the remaining pieces in this Book.

King Wu, after his overthrow of the Shang dynasty and the establishment of that of Chow, gave to Wu-Kăng (the son of the last of the Shang kings) a small State in the East, and associated with him two of his own younger brothers (brothers therefore also of the Duke of Chow). After King Wu’s death these two brothers joined Wu-Kăng in a conspiracy against the young King Ch‘ing, their nephew, and also spread a rumour that laid the Duke under suspicion of infidelity. The young King believed the rumour, and showed to the Duke that he no longer had faith in him. The latter, instead of defending himself, composedly withdrew to the East, where he remained two years; but the conspiracy resulting now in open rebellion, he raised an army and took the field against the rebels, and vanquished them, after a long and severe contest, in which Wu-Kăng was killed, and also one of the Duke’s own brothers. Afterwards he wrote this Ode, which he presented to the King, showing his attachment to him, and how much he had done to consolidate the young dynasty.

[]On all hands I see this bird is called an owl; but the picture of it in the Urh-ya t‘u is decidedly that of a hawk. The hawk is evidently Wu-Kăng, the “young ones” the Duke’s brothers, and the “nest,” or “house” (v. 3) the infant dynasty of Chow.

[* ]This beautiful allegory Confucius has commented upon. (See Mencius II., Part i. IV. 3, Legge’s Classics.)

[]Many were still unwilling to abandon the fallen dynasty of Shang.

[]The young dynasty still in danger.

[* ]The Duke of Chow’s Expedition to quash the rebellion (see Note 1 on last Ode).

[]In the ranks the troops wore a kind of gag in the mouth to prevent their talking.

[* ]It is to be much doubted whether the implements in these verses are weapons of war. It is more probable that they were agricultural and other tools, which had become rusty, blunted, and almost useless during the men’s three years’ absence. At present, when a Chinese wishes to express the fact of his having been long absent from friends, he uses the two opening lines of this Ode.

[]Lit., the four States; but this phrase often means the four sides of the State.

[]He did not go to fight so much as to make peace, and thereby to show his love and pity for his country, then so disturbed.

[* ]This piece is thought by all Chinese critics to refer to the Duke of Chow. Its place in the book lends some support to their view. The substance of Chu-Hi’s comment is, that the first verse expresses the desire of the Eastern people to see the famous Duke, and that the second speaks of their satisfaction on seeing him. Victor von Strauss thinks that if we are to take the lines metaphorically, they may be interpreted thus:—the young monarch Ch‘ing is seeking full possession of his kingdom (the bride), and can do nothing without the Duke as his mediator and example; whilst with him as such all is brought about happily.

[]The match-arranger (see I. v. 4) was thus, even in the twelfth century bc, as now, a sine quâ non.

[]Scil., in the hand.

[§ ]“Feast,” lit., vessels of bamboo and earthenware, used in feasts convivial and sacrificial.

[* ]Lit., with you staying two nights. But the “you” is unimportant: the people are supposed to be talking with each other.

[]His serenity is contrasted with the action of a wolf at bay. For the calumny, see Note 1 on the second Ode.

[]Scoticé. Lit., dewlap.

[§ ]Red slippers were worn by the king and the chief princes.