The Online Library of Liberty

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• Introduction to the Shi King. *
• Part I.: Characteristics of the States.
• Book I.: The Odes of Chow and the South. *
• Book II.: The Odes of ShÂu and the South. *
• Book III.: The Odes of P‘ei.
• Book IV.: The Odes of Yung. *
• Book V.: The Odes of Wei.
• Book VI.: The Odes of the Royal Domain. *
• Book VII.: The Odes of Ch‘ing. *
• Book VIII.: The Odes of Ts‘i. *
• Book IX.: The Odes of Wei. *
• Book X.: The Odes of T‘ang. *
• Book XI.: The Odes of Ts‘in. *
• Book XII.: The Odes of Ch‘in. *
• Book XIII.: The Odes of Kwai. *
• Book XIV.: The Odes of Ts‘Âu. *
• Book XV.: The Odes of Pin. *
• Part II.: The Minor Festal Odes.
• Book I.
• Book II.
• Book III.
• Book IV.
• Book V.
• Book VI.
• Book VII.
• Book VIII.
• Part III.: The Greater Festal Odes.
• Book I.: The “wĂn Wong” Decade. *
• Book II.: The “shang Min” Decade.
• Book III.: The “tang” Decade.
• Part IV.: Festal Hymns and Songs.
• Book I.: The Hymns of Chow. * First Section.
• Book II.: The Hymns of Chow. Second Section.
• Book III.: The Hymns of Chow. Third Section.
• Book IV.: The Festal Songs of Lu. *
• Book V.: The Festal Odes of Shang.

PART II.

THE MINOR FESTAL ODES.

BOOK I.

II. i. 1.

AT THE ROYAL BANQUETS.

• • Hear the happy bleating deer
  • Browsing on the fragrant meads.—
  • Noble guests surround me here;
  • Strike the lute, and blow the reeds,
  • Blow them, let their tongues resound;*
  • Gifts in baskets pass around.
  • Men that love me, sure, are they,
  • Pointing me the Perfect Way.†
• • Hear the happy bleating deer
  • Cropping the wild southernwood.—
  • Noble guests surround me here,
  • Famed afar for all that’s good;
  • Teaching thrift to those below,
  • Patterns, guides, to every man of worth.
  • I have choicest wines, shall flow:—
  • Feast, my noble guests, and take your mirth.
• • Hear the happy bleating deer
  • Browsing on the grassy plain.—
  • Noble guests surround me here;—
  • Strike the lute and harp again.
  • Strike the lute and harp again!
  • Mirth harmonious long maintain.
  • Flow the wine, my choicest, best,
  • Cheer the heart of every noble guest.

II. i. 2.

FOREIGN SERVICE.*

• • On, right on, ran my team of four,
  • O’er the long winding roads from Chow.
  • Thought I then to return no more?
  • Kings’ affairs yet no rest allow:
  • Grief at my heart-strings tore.
• • On, still on, went my team of four;
  • Snort and pant would each black-maned steed.
  • Thought I then to return no more?
  • Kings’ affairs yet no rest concede.
  • Leisure and rest were o’er.
• • Fluttering round were the turtle-doves,
  • Soaring upwards, and darting low,
  • Resting at last on the oak-tree groves.
  • Kings’ affairs yet no respite know:
  • Son from father must go.
• • Fluttering round were the turtle-doves;
  • Forth would they fly, then rest would take,
  • Settling at last on the medlar groves.
  • Kings’ affairs yet allow no break:
  • Son must mother forsake.
• • Yoked were the steeds, my black-maned four;
  • Forth they sped in their wild career.
  • Thought I then to return no more?
  • Ah! in this song my thoughts appear,
  • Mother, thy soul to cheer!

II. i. 3.

THE ZEALOUS ENVOYS.*

• • Where sparkle the flowers,
  • Here over the moor, there down in the vale,
  • Forth sally the envoys,
  • Each anxious alone lest in aught he fail.
• • “My horses are young ones,—
  • The reins, three pairs, as if newly tanned;
  • Post-haste I am driving,
  • And pushing my quest upon every hand.”
• • “My horses are dappled,—
  • The reins, three pairs, as of silken braid;
  • Post-haste I am driving;
  • All round are my plans and my reckonings made.”
• • “My horses are piebalds,—
  • The reins, three pairs, all glossy and smart;
  • Post-haste I am driving,
  • And matters well weighing in every part.”
• • “My horses are brindled,—
  • The reins, three pairs, well balanced in hand;
  • Post-haste I am driving,
  • Advising, consulting, throughout the land.”

II. i. 4.

BROTHERLY AFFECTION.*

• • Is not the cherry-tree, all round,
  • With opening blossoms grandly crowned?
  • So, nowhere in the world of men
  • Is aye the like of brothers found.
• • Bereaved by death in ways we dread,
  • How is the brother’s heart oppressed!
  • O’er hill and dale, ’mid heaps of dead,
  • Brother for brother makes his quest.
• • Quick, like the wagtails on the moor,
  • Are brothers, when sore needs arise;
  • Though each may have good friends and sure,
  • Their help is in continual sighs!
• • Though brothers may have private feud,
  • They fight (as one) the alien foe;
  • And each has friends, both sure and good,
  • But friends to help? Ah, surely no!
• • When woes and strifes are at an end,
  • And peace and quietness prevail,
  • Though some have brothers, now the friend,
  • The incomparable friend, they hail!
• • Make thee a feast, make all complete,
  • And drink thy heart’s content of wine;
  • ’Tis when the band of brothers meet
  • That mirth and childlike joy combine.
• • Union with wife and child is sweet,
  • Sweet as when lutes in concert blend;
  • ’Tis when united brothers meet
  • That mirth and concord know no end.
• • Ye then who rule your households well,
  • Ye who in wife or child delight,
  • Study these words, and let them tell
  • If I have spoken truth and right!

II. i. 5.

ENTERTAINMENT OF FRIENDS.

• • While woodmen’s axes echoing ring,
  • Will bird to bird responsive sing,
  • And out of darksome glens will fly
  • And settle on the tree-tops high,
  • And there the song renew, still fain
  • Responses from their mates to gain.
  • Mark well the instinct of the bird,
  • Thus singing till its mates be heard.
  • How much the more should not mankind
  • Thus set about their friends to find?
  • Then would the Spirits hearken, too,
  • And harmony and peace ensue.
• • “Together!” hear the woodmen cry.—
  • Here drinks well-strained and pure have I,
  • And well-fed lambs have been brought in,—
  • I must invite my father’s kin.*
  • Better their coming were debarred
  • Than I should fail in my regard.
  • Well scoured, how bright my floors are made!
  • And the eight bowls are all displayed;
  • Fat wethers, too, have been brought in;
  • So must I bid my mother’s kin.
  • Better that these perforce decline
  • My bidding, than that blame be mine.
• • Now on the slope the trees lie low.—
  • Now have I brewed an overflow!
  • My trenchers stand in long array,
  • And not a clansman stays away.
  • Good-humour fails sometimes, but why?
  • The fault may be that the food is dry!
  • What drinks we have, make pure for us!
  • And those we lack, procure for us!
  • So shall the drums resound for us!
  • So shall the dance go round for us!
  • And long as hours to us remain
  • The well-brewed liquors let us drain!

II. i. 6.

RESPONSE OF THE KING’S GUESTS.

• • Heaven guard thee and preserve thee,
  • And make thy throne most sure;
  • Grant thee its signal favours,
  • Such blessings as endure;
  • Give thee great measure of success,
  • Yea, ever more, and never less!
• • Heaven guard thee and preserve thee,
  • Grant thee its fullest good;
  • Right worthy art thou—take thou
  • Its gifts in plenitude;
  • Its lasting blessings on thee fall,—
  • Days all too brief to taste of all!
• • Heaven guard thee and preserve thee,
  • No good success deny.
  • Like mountains looming largely,
  • Like ridges frowning high,
  • Like streams with everflowing tide,
  • Be all thy blessings multiplied.
• • Timely thy pure oblations
  • Thou filially dost bring,
  • Each at its proper season,
  • To each lord and ancient king,—
  • Whose oracles responsive say
  • “Live thou for ever and for aye!”
• • Their spirits are about thee
  • And bless thee with great good.
  • Thy people, true and honest,
  • Lack never drink and food.
  • And all the dark-locked race, each clan,
  • Reflects thy virtue, man by man!
• • Like crescent moon, not waning,
  • Like climbing sun, not low,
  • Like hills that stand for ages,
  • And know no overthrow,—
  • Yea, like the cypress and the pine,
  • The evergreen,—be all thy line!

II. i. 7.

SONG OF THE TROOPS DURING THE EXPEDITION AGAINST THE HÎN-YUN.*

• • They gather the fern, the royal fern,†
  • Now at its first appearing.
  • O when shall we turn, aye homeward turn?
  • One year its end is nearing.
  • O still, because of the wild HÎn-Yuns,
  • From house and home remain we;
  • O still, because of the wild HÎn-Yuns,
  • Nor rest nor leisure gain we.
• • They gather the fern, the royal fern,
  • Now supple grown and flexile.
  • O when shall we turn, aye homeward turn?
  • For grievous is this exile.
  • Disconsolate hearts here ache and ache,
  • And thirst we bear, and hunger;
  • And endless patrols forbid us make
  • The home inquiries longer.‡
• • They gather the fern, the royal fern,
  • Now age and hardness gaining.
  • O when shall we turn, aye homeward turn?
  • For fast the year is waning.
  • Ah, service of kings no respite knows,
  • No halting, no adjourning;
  • Our trouble to utter misery grows;—
  • On, on,—yet no returning!
• • What flowers are those that bloom so fair?
  • The blossoms of wild cherries?
  • What car is that on the highway there?
  • One that our leader carries.
  • His war-car is ready, the steeds are in,
  • His team of four, so splendid.
  • Who’ll stay then behind?—Nay, thrice we’ll win
  • Or e’er the month be ended!
• • The chargers are in, the team of four,
  • All four with ardour prancing,—
  • Our leader’s trust, as he goes before,
  • Shield of the troops advancing.
  • With steady sure team, bow ivory-tipped,
  • And fish-skin quiver beside him,
  • O was he not daily well equipped?*
  • Yet the HÎn-Yuns sorely tried him.
• • At first, when we started on our track,
  • The willows green were growing.
  • And now, when we think of the journey back,
  • ’Tis raining fast and snowing.
  • And tedious and slow the march will be,
  • And food and drink will fail us.
  • Ah, hard to bear is the misery!
  • None knows what griefs assail us.

II. i. 8.

THE SAME.*

• • O forth in our cars we rode
  • As far as the pasture land;
  • For now from the King’s† abode
  • Our orders had come to hand:
  • “Call out every charioteer,
  • And bid them their tasks to ply;
  • Your King hath a task severe,
  • Your energies all ’twill try.”
• • So forth in our cars we rode
  • Till the frontier we drew nigh,
  • Where the tortoise-flag‡ we showed,
  • And the “oxtails”§ reared on high;
  • And the banners with tortoise and bird—∥
  • O made they not fine display!
  • Yet sadly some hearts demurred:
  • The drivers were far from gay!
• • The King had thus charged Nan-Chung:
  • “Go build me a frontier wall.”
  • So rattled our cars along,
  • Our war-flags¶ fluttering all.
  • The royal command had we
  • To wall and defend the North;
  • And dread was Nan-Chung to see
  • As he swept the HÎn-Yuns forth.
• • At first when we took the track,
  • The millets were all in bud;*
  • And now for the journey back
  • ’Tis snowing, and all is mud.
  • O hard for the King we’ve slaved,
  • With never a moment free;
  • And often for home we craved,
  • But feared that royal decree.†
• • “The crickets now chirp and grind,‡
  • The hoppers now spring and fly;
  • But my lord not yet I find,
  • And sore at my heart am I.
  • Ah, once be my husband seen,
  • My heart should be then at rest.
  • The dread Nan-Chung, I ween,
  • Strikes now at the Yungs§ out West.”
• • Spring days are lengthening out,
  • The trees and the plants grow green,
  • The orioles twitter about,
  • Crowds gathering herbs∥ are seen.
  • With prisoners for trial,¶ and crowd
  • Of captives, we homewards move.
  • By the dread Nan-Chung thus cowed
  • The Hin-Yuns now quieter prove.

II. i. 9.

THE SAME.—ANXIETY OF THE WIVES AT HOME.

• • Alone the russet pear-tree grows,
  • With fruit upon it fair to see.*
  • Kings’ service knows not speedy close;
  • Day in, day out, ’tis long to me.
  • The year is fast receding, O:†
  • My woman’s heart is bleeding, O;
  • My soldier rest is needing, O.
• • Alone the russet pear-tree grows,
  • And now is full of leaves (again).
  • Kings’ service knows not speedy close;
  • My heart still battles with its pain:—
  • While trees and plants are springing, O,
  • My woman’s heart ’tis wringing, O;
  • Then speed my brave’s home-bringing, O
• • Up yonder northern hills I’ll climb,
  • The fruit to pluck from medlar-trees.
  • Kings’ service takes no count of time;
  • The old folks’ hearts are ill at ease
  • Their teams are tired and flagging, sure;
  • Their sandal-cars‡ are dragging, sure;
  • Not far my brave is lagging, sure.
• • But no, they come not yet away!
  • And O, my heart misgives me sore.
  • The time is past, and still they stay;
  • I grow despondent more and more.
  • But shell and straw* now cheer me, O!
  • Both tell me he is near me, O!
  • My brave will soon be near me, O!

II. i. 10.

MISSING.

BOOK II.

II. ii. 1.

MISSING.

II. ii. 2.

MISSING.

II. ii. 3.

SONG OF THE GUESTS AT COUNTRY FEASTS.

• • Finest fish the baskets line,*
  • Roach and parr.†
  • And our host hath right good wine,
  • And great store.
• • Finest fish the baskets line,
  • Bream and rudd.
  • And our host hath store of wine,
  • And right good.
• • Finest fish the baskets line,
  • Carp and ray.
  • And our host hath right good wine,
  • Fine display.
• • And of (other) things great store!
  • See how grandly in they pour!
• • And these (other) things, right good!
  • Blending, aye, as blend they should.
• • So, too, have they fine display,
  • And in season all are they.

II. ii. 4.

MISSING.

II. ii. 5.

THE WELCOME OF GUESTS.

• • Good fish* men find in the South,
  • And shoals are caught by the net.—
  • The worthy master hath wine;
  • Good guests, then feast with him, all well met!†
• • Good fish men find in the South,
  • And shoals are caught in the creel.—
  • The worthy master hath wine;
  • Good guests, enjoy then the cheering meal!
• • The trees bend low in the South;
  • Sweet gourds all over them wind.—
  • The worthy master hath wine;
  • Good guests, then feast, with a gladsome mind.
• • The doves were scattered in flight,
  • Then all together they drew.—
  • The worthy master hath wine;
  • Good guests, then feast, and the feast renew!

II. ii. 6.

MISSING.

II. ii. 7.

THE PRINCE TO HIS MINISTERS.

• • On the hills in the south the sedges* grow,
  • And the orach on those of the north.
  • The delight of my life are ye, good sirs,
  • For the State is built up on your worth.
  • The delight of my life are ye good sirs;
  • May ye live through myriad—yea, countless years!
• • On the hills in the south are the mulberry-trees,
  • And the willow on those of the north.
  • The delight of my life, good sirs, are ye,
  • Whence the light of the land shines forth.
  • The delight of my life, good sirs, are ye;
  • May your years through unnumbered æons be!
• • On the hills in the south the medlars grow,
  • On the hills in the north the plum.
  • The delight of my life are ye, worthy men,
  • And to you as to parents men come.
  • The delight of my life are ye, worthy men;
  • May your virtuous fame ne’er fail men’s ken!
• • On the hills in the south is the varnish-tree,
  • On the north ones wood for the bow.
  • The delight of my life, good sirs, are ye,
  • And the honours of age ye show.
  • The delight of my life, good sirs, are ye;
  • May the fame of your worth spread gloriously!
• • On the hills in the south is the honey-tree,
  • On the northern the sycamore.
  • The delight of my life, worthy sirs, are ye,
  • And are ye not wrinkled and hoar?
  • The delight of my life, worthy sirs, are ye;
  • (Heaven) defend and maintain your posterity!

II. ii. 8.

MISSING.

II. ii. 9.

THE KING TO THE FEUDAL PRINCES.

• • Strong grows the southernwood, and fast,
  • Bespangled with the dew.*
  • My noble guests I see at last;
  • Light beats my heart anew.
  • Now to the feast and to the merry jest!
  • And so shall glad content fill every breast.
• • How grows the southernwood apace
  • Moist with its dewy load!
  • My noble guests are come, to grace
  • And brighten my abode.
  • Upright and good, with ne’er a taint of blame,
  • Long life be yours, and unforgotten fame!
• • Strong grows the southernwood, and fast,
  • With heavy dewdrops wet.
  • My noble guests I see at last;
  • Eat, drink your fill, be all well met!
  • And let all brothers live as brothers should!
  • Long life and joy await the nobly good!
• • Yea, well the southernwood must thrive
  • That dew so rich sustains.
  • My noble guests I’ve seen arrive
  • With the long dangling reins!
  • Their bells before and aft* made music fine!
  • May thousand blessings on them all combine!

II. ii. 10.

THE SAME.—AT THE FEAST.

• • Heavy, heavy lies the dew;
  • Till the sun shines must it stay.
  • Drink ye all your fill to-night:
  • Till well drunk† must none away!
• • Heavy, heavy lies the dew
  • On the meadows richly grassed.
  • Drink ye all your fill to-night:
  • In my chamber‡ drink your last.
• • Heavy, heavy lies the dew
  • On the willows, on the thorns.
  • Noble men are here, and true:
  • None but Virtue’s path adorns.
• • Like those monarchs of the wood,§
  • That with grace their fruit display,
  • Are my lords, at happy ease:
  • None but acts in courtliest way.

BOOK III.

II. iii. 1.

ON THE PRESENTATION OF THE VERMILION BOW.*

• • Vermilion bows, unbent as yet,
  • Were left me,† and apart I stored them.
  • Now have I here distinguished guests,
  • To whom I cordially award them.
  • And ready be the drum and gong!‡
  • We’ll feast them well the whole morn long.
• • Vermilion bows, unbent as yet,
  • Were left me, and on frames I strung them.
  • Now have I here distinguished guests;
  • Right proud am I to be among them.
  • Then ready be the drum and gong!
  • We’ll honour them the whole morn long.
• • Vermilion bows, unbent, have I,
  • And had them cased for their protection.
  • Now have I here distinguished guests,
  • And such as win my true affection.
  • Then ready be the drum and gong!
  • We’ll drink to them the whole morn long.

II. iii. 2.

JOYOUS GREETING OF A GOOD KING.*

• • Brightly the aster flowers† unfold
  • There midway on the height.
  • Our eyes our Ruler now behold:
  • Hail him with festal rite.‡
• • Brightly the aster flowers unfold
  • There midway on the isle.
  • Our eyes our Ruler now behold;
  • Our hearts rejoice the while.
• • Brightly the aster flowers unfold
  • There midway on the mound.
  • Our eyes our Ruler now behold;
  • And gifts he scatters round.§
• • Ah, boat of willow-wood, impelled∥
  • By waves—o’er trough and crest!
  • Our eyes our Ruler have beheld;
  • Our hearts are now at rest.

II. iii. 3.

KI-FU’S EXPEDITION AGAINST THE WILD NORTHERN TRIBES.*

• • ’Twas the sixth month. In hurry and flurry
  • Chariots of war were equipped for the road;
  • Quadruple teams were dancing and prancing;
  • Baggage and arms in waggons were stowed.
  • Fiercely the HÎn-Yuns raged and blustered,
  • So was there need of the utmost haste.
  • Forth must we march at the royal bidding,
  • Royal dominions to save from waste.
• • Evenly matched were the dusky coursers,
  • Patterns of training each team of four.
  • While the sixth month was yet unended
  • Ready were all our trappings of war.
  • Trappings of war were all completed;
  • Stages were fixed at miles eleven;†
  • Forth then we marched at the royal bidding,
  • Forth to the aid of the Son of Heaven.
• • Fine, strong males were the teams of chargers,
  • Bearing their heads right loftily.
  • At the HÎu-Yuns we dashed, and smote them,
  • Bent on a brilliant victory.
  • Sternly, steadily moved our battalions;
  • Soldierly service we rendered then;
  • Soldierly service we rendered, bringing
  • Peace to the royal domains again.
• • Ah, the HÎn-Yuns showed scant discernment,
  • Making in Tsiâu and in Hwo so free,
  • Pushing to Hau and to Fang their encroachments,—
  • North of the King eventually.
  • (Now came) our banners with birds emblazoned,
  • And the white pennons in proud display,—
  • Ten of the largest fighting chariots
  • Going in front to clear the way.
• • Steady and sure proved the fighting chariots,
  • Well were they balanced, before and aft;
  • Strong were the teams of colts that drew them,
  • Strong, and rare proofs of the trainer’s craft.
  • At the HÎn-Yuns we dashed, and smote them,
  • Far as T‘ai-yün we stayed not our hand.
  • Ki-fu (our leader) in peace or in war-time
  • Stands out a pattern for every land.
• • Now at the feast Ki-fu makes merry,
  • Great is the joy befalls him now.
  • Long was our march, aye long and tedious,
  • Homewards coming again from Hau.
  • Wine and good cheer he gives to his comrades,—
  • Slices of carp, roast turtle too;
  • Aye, and who takes his place beside them?
  • Chang-Chung* the Filial and the True!

II. iii. 4.

FANG-SHŬ’S EXPEDITION AGAINST THE MÂN-KING.*

• • O they bade us gather forage,—†
  • There on lands of tillage new,
  • Here on plats of one year’s clearing,—
  • For upon us came Fang-Shŭ!
  • He had chariots, full three thousand,
  • And of guards a well-tried band;
  • And he rode along before them
  • With his piebalds four in hand,
  • With his piebalds sure and steady,
  • In his red grand car of state,
  • With his screen, his fish-skin quivers,
  • And his dangling reins and gear ornate.‡
• • O they bade us gather forage,—
  • There on fields of tillage new,
  • Here amid the village farmsteads,—
  • For upon us came Fang-Shŭ,
  • With his chariots full three thousand
  • Waving flags,—he in the van.
  • And his car had hide-bound§ axles,
  • And, in front, the gilded span,∥
  • And the eight bells making music.
  • His high uniform he wore,
  • And the stately scarlet apron,
  • And the green gem tinkling down before.
• • Swift as darts the glede kite yonder,
  • Soaring up into the blue,
  • Settling down anon and resting,
  • So upon us came Fang-Shŭ.
  • With his chariots full three thousand,
  • With his guards, the well-tried band.
  • These he led; and now his cymbals,
  • Now his drums, spoke his command,
  • Ranged his hosts, wheeled his battalions:—
  • Trusty and renowned Fang-Shŭ!
  • Gravely boomed his drums (to battle),
  • Gaily sounded they as all withdrew.
• • Ah, ye Southerners* are dullards
  • Our great country to oppose!
  • With great age Fang-Shŭ is weighted,
  • Yet rare strategy he shows.
  • With his men he seized the Chieftains,†
  • And brought off a captive crowd;
  • Onward rolled his war-cars, swarming,
  • Swarming, overwhelming, loud
  • As the crash and din of thunder:—
  • Trusty and renowned Fang-Shŭ!
  • Once he went HÎn-Yuns to punish,
  • Now he makes these tribes come trembling too.

II. iii. 5.

GRAND ROYAL HUNT GIVEN IN HONOUR OF THE FEUDAL-LORDS WHEN AT COURT.

• • Our cars are stoutly made and manned,
  • In equal drafts the horses stand
  • In teams of four, superb and grand:—
  • Then Eastward ho! there lies the land.
• • Trim are the hunting-cars, and sound,
  • Right sturdy teams for each are found.
  • Fine covers in the East abound:—
  • Away! there lies our hunting-ground.
• • The masters of the chase appear,
  • Tell off their men, give orders clear,
  • The banners fix, the “oxtails” rear:—
  • At Ngâu, (quotha), we’ll have the deer.*
• • Ho now the teams are on the way,
  • Four after four in long array!
  • Gilt shoes, red aprons,—what display!
  • The pageant of an audience-day!
• • Gantlet and thumb-ring† we attach,
  • And to the bows the arrows match;
  • Each bowman has the same despatch;
  • Each adds to our great pile his batch.
• • The teams of bays are now inspanned;
  • The off-steeds well are kept in hand,
  • Nor e’er their rapid pace relax.
  • Each shaft goes hurtling like an axe!
• • And now what noise of neighing steeds,
  • As the long bannered train recedes!
  • Runners and drivers made no scare,
  • So yields the Larder each a share.*
• • And they who led the chase to-day
  • Great praise have won, without display.
  • Ay, lordly men indeed are they;—
  • Of skill comsummate, sooth to say!

II. iii. 6.

ROYAL HUNT, WITH GUESTS AND FRIENDS.

• • There is luck in the day with the fives† in the date,
  • And our prayers we have made at the shrine,‡
  • And the cars for the hunt are in excellent state,
  • And the teams look colossal and fine.
  • The lofty hill yonder we’ll breast,
  • And chase the wild herds on its crest.
• • There is luck in the day with the sevens§ in the date;
  • We have chosen and drafted our nags;
  • And now where is the spot where the herds congregate,
  • And the haunt of the does and the stags?
  • Where the T‘sĭ and the T‘siü streams flow—
  • It is there Heaven’s Son must go.
• • Look you there, in the midst of the upland plain,
  • How the creatures are herding in troops!
  • Now they scamper away, now they settle again,
  • And in threes and in pairs are the groups.
  • Lead the way! men and masters away!
  • Heaven’s Son shall have pleasure to-day.
• • And now we are ready with bows to the fore,
  • And the arrows are put to the string;
  • Ho, yonder one sticks in a two-year-old boar,
  • To the ground here a monster we bring.
  • On these shall our visitors dine,
  • With tankards of new-made wine.

II. iii. 7.

WAR AND PEACE.*

• • The wild-geese rose upon the wing
  • Rustling and flapping as they left in haste.
  • So once our men went to the wars,
  • To toil and moil in wilderness and waste.
  • Unhappy men! and yet unhappier they
  • Who here remained, the widowed and the grey.
• • The wild-geese rose upon the wing,
  • But rest from flight they found upon the mere.
  • Our men-folk now build up our walls,
  • And all at once a hundred roods they rear.
  • Though toiling still and labouring past their strength,
  • Yet homes we now shall have, and peace at length.
• • The wild-geese rose upon the wing,
  • With lamentable cry as if distressed.
  • It was this wise and prudent One*
  • Who spoke of us as toilers and oppressed.
  • And it was he, the man of little sense,†
  • Who spoke of our unbounded insolence!

II. iii. 8.

THE KING’S ANXIETY TO BE PUNCTUAL AT THE MORNING AUDIENCE.

• • How speeds the night?
  • Scarce yet the half is fled:
  • The great torch‡ gleams out red.
  • Yet will my lords anon be here,
  • Bells tinkling gaily on their gear.
• • How speeds the night?
  • Scarce yet is darkness gone:
  • The great torch glimmers on.
  • Yet will my lords anon be here;
  • Their tinkling bells announce them near.
• • How speeds the night?
  • Now towards the morn it turns:
  • No more the great torch burns.§
  • And now my lords will soon be here;—
  • Ho, there at last their flags appear!

II. iii. 9.

A STATESMAN’S LAMENT ON SEEING THE APATHY OF HIS BROTHER-OFFICERS IN A TIME OF ANARCHY AND TROUBLE.

• • There the rolling river, brimming,
  • Makes the sovereign* sea its quest.
  • There the soaring glede kite, hasting,
  • Flees away and finds its rest.
  • But, ah me! of all my brethren,
  • All my friends and countrymen,
  • None will take to heart our troubles.
  • Is there none has parents, then?†
• • See the rolling river, brimming,
  • Dashing, splashing down its bed.
  • See the soaring glede kite, hasting,
  • Mounting up on wings outspread.
  • Pondering on those wayward courses,
  • Restless I arise and stroll,
  • But, alas! can never banish
  • The great sorrow from my soul.
• • Swiftly flies the glede kite yonder,‡
  • Midway by the mountain side.
  • “Spread the people idle stories?
  • Can the tongues of none be tied?”
  • Ah, my friends, be ye more watchful;
  • Scandal must go far and wide.

II. iii. 10.

RANDOM THOUGHTS ON COMMON THINGS.

• • In the depths* of the marsh though the crane may cry,
  • It is heard in the lands around.
  • In the deep dark pools though the fish may lie,
  • In the shallows may some be found.
  • Yonder lawn may be fragrant† with sandal-trees,
  • Yet are withered dead leaves in their shade.
  • And the rocks on the hills that one yonder sees
  • Into polishing-stones may be made.
• • In the depths of the marsh though the crane may scream,
  • Yet its notes may be heard in the sky.
  • And though fish be found in the shallow stream,
  • There are those that in dark pools lie.
  • Yonder lawn may be fragrant with sandal-trees,
  • But the nettles‡ will grow in their shade.
  • And the rocks on the hills that one yonder sees
  • Serve to polish your gems of jade.

BOOK IV.

II. iv. 1.

COMPLAINT OF THE ROYAL GUARDS ON BEING SENT TO THE FRONTIER.*

• • Grand Commander!†
  • Why be we,—the teeth and talons of the King,—
  • Moved about, in miserable case,
  • With no longer an abiding place?
• • Grand Commander!
  • Why be we,—the braves, the talons of the King,—
  • Moved about, in miserable plight,
  • With the end still hidden from our sight?
• • Grand Commander!
  • Surely here is lack of judgment shown.
  • Why transport us to this misery,
  • Who have mothers managing the meals alone?‡

II. iv. 2.

“FIGHT WITH THY WISH THE WORLD TO FLEE.”*

• • His spotless snow-white colts shall browse
  • (E’en) on my plot of sprouting corn;
  • Go tether them, go tie them there,
  • For we must lengthen out this morn.
  • So be their master made aware
  • Here he may rest and banish care.
• • His spotless snow-white colts shall feed
  • Upon my plot of vetches young;
  • Go tether them, go tie them them there,
  • And so the morning hours prolong.
  • So to their master manifest
  • That here he is a welcome guest.
• • Thy spotless snow-white colts and thou
  • Came hither, aye, like sunny glint!
  • Art thou a duke—art thou a prince?
  • And must have freedom without stint?
  • ’Ware thou of reckless errantry!
  • Fight with thy wish the world to flee.
• • —(Methinks I see) the snow-white colts
  • Within some lone sequestered glen,
  • With but one sheaf of new-cut grass,
  • (Beside) their master—best† of men!
  • Yet do not, as one hoarding gems or gold,
  • Hold back thy news,—nor let thy heart grow cold.

II. iv. 3.

DISAPPOINTED EMIGRANTS.

• • Yellow birds, yellow birds!*
  • Do not crowd the tree-tops;†
  • Come not pecking our crops.—
  • From the folk of this land
  • We no welcoming win;
  • Up, let us return
  • To our country and kin.
• • Yellow birds, yellow birds!
  • —Not the mulberry-trees.
  • Come not pecking our maize.—
  • With the folk of this land
  • Understanding is vain;
  • Up, let us return
  • To our brethren again.
• • Yellow birds, yellow birds!
  • —Nor the thicket of thorn.‡
  • Come not pecking our corn.§
  • With the folk of this land
  • We can never remain;
  • Up, let us return
  • To our fathers again.∥

II. iv. 4.

INHOSPITABLE KINSFOLK.

• • I took my journey o’er the wilds,
  • Where throve the foul Ailantus tree.
  • As thou hadst married kin of mine
  • I thought to go and stay with thee.
  • But since thou thought’st the cost too great,*
  • Back came I to my clan and State.
• • I took my journey o’er the wilds,
  • And gathered sorrel by the way.
  • As thou hadst married kin of mine,
  • I thought some nights with thee to stay.
  • But since the cost thou canst not bear,*
  • Back homewards I again repair.
• • I took my journey o’er the wilds,
  • Plucking the pokeweed as I went.
  • Ah, thou forgettest the old ties,
  • Now on a new alliance bent.
  • E’en if not wealth thy object be,
  • ’Tis all the same—thou’rt changed to me.

II. iv. 5.

ON THE COMPLETION OF A NEW PALACE.†

• • Where gentle slopes lead to the river’s rim,
  • And with South Hill as background, distant, dim,
  • (It stands)—firm based like cluster of bamboos,
  • With rafters stretching like far-spreading yews.
  • When brother comes to brother in this place,
  • Let lovingkindness be the aim of each,
  • Nor one strive other e’er to overreach!
• • Lo, he who now the heritage acquires,
  • Succeeding to the olden dames and sires,
  • Hath here his palace reared, pile unto pile,
  • With portals looking to the South and West,—
  • His future Seat, his future domicile,
  • For sober counsel, as for mirth and jest.
• • Firmly they fixed the frames, rows straight on rows,*
  • Loud was the thumping of the pounders’ blows;
  • Nor wind nor rain should find admittance there,
  • Nor bird nor rat find crevice anywhere;—
  • A noble dwelling for our Prince uprose.
• • Here, grave as human form erect, attent,†
  • Here, straight as arrow e’er from bow was sent,
  • Here, like as when a bird her wings extends,
  • Here, like the (bright-plumed) pheasant in his flight;—
  • Such is the (audience-hall) our Prince ascends.
• • All smooth and even are the palace-courts,
  • And tall and straight the pillars and supports;
  • The (chambers) cheerful, flooded here with light,
  • There darkened with recesses, deep and wide;—
  • Here shall our Prince in calm content abide.
• • With rush-mat ’neath him, bamboo-mat above,
  • So shall his sleep serene and tranquil prove;
  • So shall he sleep, and, when he quits the bed,
  • Demand, “Now be my dreams interpreted;
  • And whether of these twain good fortune brings:
  • For I have dreamt of brown and grisly bears,
  • Of vipers too, and other snake-like things.”
• • When the great Augur then these dreams declares,
  • Thus will he answer: “Brown and grisly bears
  • Are tokens of the birth to thee of sons.
  • And vipers and the other serpents tell
  • Of daughters to be born to thee as well.”
• • And it shall be, whenever sons are born,*
  • These shall be laid on beds to sleep and rest;
  • In loose long robes they also shall be dressed,
  • And sceptrelets be given them for their toys!
  • And when they cry, what music in the noise!
  • Once these shall don the scarlet aprons grand,
  • And be the king and princes of the land.
• • And it shall be, when daughters shall be born,
  • These shall be laid to sleep upon the ground;
  • In swaddling-bands their bodies shall be bound;
  • And pots shall be their playthings. ’Twill belong
  • To these to meddle not with right or wrong;†
  • To mind alone the household drinks and food,
  • And cause their parents no solicitude.

II. iv. 6.

ON THE PROSPEROUS CONDITION OF THE KING’S FLOCKS AND HERDS.

• • And who shall say thou hast no sheep?
  • Where hundreds three each flock compose.
  • Or that no cattle thou dost keep?
  • Where ninety show black mouth and nose.‡
• • Lo, there thy sheep are coming in,
  • Horned, yet unused to fight or feud;
  • And there thy kine are coming in,
  • Their ears with (healthy) moisture dewed.
• • And some are winding down the hill;
  • Some drinking at the pools their fill;
  • Some sleep, some wander at their will.
  • And now, behold, thy herdsmen come,
  • Rain-cloak and large round hat in hand,
  • And some with provender behind.
  • There, too, thy victims ready stand,
  • Sorted by thirties of a kind.
• • Thy herdsmen come, each from his herd,
  • With loads of wood and sticks to burn,
  • With quarry both of beast and bird.
  • Anon thy flocks of sheep return,
  • All strong and vigorous and bold,
  • All free of ailment, free of harm;
  • And at a movement of the arm
  • They all betake them to the fold.
• • And now the herdsmen lie and dream:
  • And people all like fishes seem!
  • And every snake-and-tortoise-flag
  • Is turned into a falcon-flag!
  • And the great Augur gives the sense:—
  • “The folk as fish” rich years foreshow;
  • And “tortoise-flag as falcon-flag”
  • Reveals how vast the clans shall grow.

II. iv. 7.

COMPLAINT AGAINST KING YIU AND HIS CHIEF MINISTER YIN.*

• • There South Hill rears high its summit,
  • Crag on crag, a frowning pile.
  • So, dread Chancellor Yin, thou standest,
  • All men’s eyes on thee the while.
  • Like consuming fire their trouble;
  • Fear they even converse light;
  • Fast the land to ruin vergeth;
  • Why dost thou avoid the sight?
• • There South Hill rears high its summit,
  • Yet its slopes have verdure fair.
  • So, dread Chancellor Yin, thou standest,
  • Yet thy faults who shall declare?
  • Heaven is sending trouble on trouble;
  • Wreck and ruin far have ranged;
  • People hint their disaffection:
  • Thou, alas! remain’st unchanged.
• • Yin, the Chancellor of the Kingdom,
  • Might be Chow’s chief corner-stone,
  • Hold the balances of empire,
  • Weld the various parts in one,
  • Be the Son of Heaven’s supporter,
  • Make men all wrong ways forego;—
  • Ah, great Heaven hath no compassion!
  • ’Tis not meet to plunge us all in woe.
• • Thou thyself dost nought in person,
  • So men trust not to thy word.
  • None consult’st thou, nor employest:—
  • Yet betray not thou thy lord;
  • Be straightforward, make an end o’t,
  • Risk not on mean men our fate,
  • Nor give good-for-nought relations*
  • Best appointments in the State.
• • Not in justice doth high Heaven
  • Send disorders dire as these;
  • Not in kindness doth high Heaven
  • Send us these great miseries.
  • If our rulers did their duty†
  • They would ease the nation’s heart;
  • If our rulers were straightforward
  • Hate and anger would depart.
• • Ah, great Heaven hath no compassion!
  • For the tumults never cease;
  • Month by month they grow, depriving
  • All the people of their peace.
  • O, my heart is drunk with sorrow!
  • Who will guide the land aright?
  • He who rules it not in person
  • Leaves the folk in weary plight.
• • I had put my team in harness,
  • Aye, my nobly-crested four;
  • Everywhere I looked, but always
  • Found distress. No place to flee to more!
• • Now the evil in you rages,
  • And we see you wield the spear;
  • Now you are appeased, contented,
  • And like pledging host and guest appear.
• • But high Heaven is not made tranquil;
  • And our King is not content.
  • While a heart is uncorrected
  • Its corrector it will still resent.*
• • Kia-fu wrote this song, exposing†
  • The disorders of the reign.‡
  • O that change of heart thou showedst,
  • And wouldst thus the thousand States sustain!

II. iv. 8.

THE KINGDOM VERGING TOWARDS RUIN.§

• • Hard frost ’neath a summer moon!
  • With its sorrow my heart is sore.
  • The scandal the people spread
  • Is increasing more and more.
  • Methinks how I stand alone,
  • And the trouble grows hard to bear;
  • Ah me for my anxious thought!
  • Smothered grief will my health impair.
• • Ye parents, who gave me life,
  • Why thus was I born for pain?
  • Not thus was it ere my time,
  • Not thus will it be again.∥
  • Words, now, both of praise and blame,
  • From the lips (not the heart) proceed;
  • And though deeper my sorrow grows,
  • Contempt is my (only) meed.
• • My soul is oppressed with grief
  • As I muse on our hapless fate.
  • The innocent people all
  • Are reduced to the serf’s estate;
  • And alas for our worthies here!
  • They may seek for place—but where?
  • Watch a crow when about to rest;
  • To whose roof will the bird repair?*
• • Look there in the forest’s depths;
  • Fine logs and poor twigs we find.
  • The people, now jeopardized,
  • See in Heaven no discerning mind.
  • Yet, once be its purpose fixed,
  • There is none can against it fight;
  • For there is the Most High God!
  • —Ah, on whom shall His hate alight?†
• • As if calling a mountain low,
  • That has ridges and lofty crest,
  • So false are the people’s tales;—
  • Are they never to be repressed?
  • Go summon those ancient men,
  • Ask the tellers of dreams as well—
  • —They claim to be sages all—
  • “Who the male from the female crow can tell?”‡
• • There’s a saying, “Though Heaven be high,
  • Yet we dare not but bow the head”;
  • And, “Though solid the earth may be,
  • Yet we dare not but softly tread.”
  • Be these sayings proclaimed aloud;
  • Truth and reason are there discerned.
  • Ah me! how the men of this time
  • Into adders and efts are turned!
• • Look there at the rough hill-fields,
  • Giving promise of wealth of grain.
  • Ah! Heaven is rough-handling me,
  • As though battling with me in vain!
  • These sought me once as their guide,
  • As though I were hard to gain;
  • Now they have me they hate me sore,
  • And my service and help disdain.
• • My heart in its trouble frets
  • As if held in some tight embrace.
  • How full is this present reign
  • Of tyrannous deeds and base!
  • O the fire that rages round!
  • Will not some one quench the blaze?
  • Our illustrious House of Chow
  • Pau-sze to the ground will raze!
• • This end is my constant fear.
  • Thou, as harassed by gloom and rain,
  • Art driving,—thy waggon full,—
  • And dost brakes to thy wheels disdain.
  • Let thy load be but once upset,
  • ’Twill be, “Lend me your help, sirs,” then!
• • Fling never thy brakes away;
  • To thy wheels* they be useful yet.
  • Oft look to thy driver, too,
  • And thy load thou wilt ne’er upset;
  • And the worst will at length be passed.
  • —But—this dost thou aye forget.
• • When a fish is placed in a pond,
  • Little there doth it find to please;
  • Deep down it may dive and lie,
  • Yet is seen with the greatest ease.
  • Ah, deep in my heart lies grief,
  • As I think of my country’s tyrannies.
• • They, there, have the choicest wines,†
  • They, there, have the daintiest foods.
  • And their neighbours sit down with them,
  • And their kinsfolk, in multitudes.
  • I think how I stand alone,
  • And my soul in deep sorrow broods.
• • There, the men of no mark are housed;
  • There, the worthless great riches own;
  • While the people lack daily bread,
  • And ’neath Heaven’s dire judgments groan.
  • With the wealthy ones all is well!
  • Woe worth the deserted and lone!

II. iv. 9.

EVIL PORTENTS, EVIL DAYS.

• • In the tenth month met sun and moon,*
  • When the calends were sin-mâu;†
  • Then the sun became eclipsed;—
  • Worst of omens was it now!
  • There the moon was, yet in shade;
  • There the sun was, shaded too;
  • Tenants of this lower earth,
  • Worst of woes now threatened you!
• • Sun and moon dire things portend
  • When their proper paths they void.
  • And no State is rightly ruled
  • Where the good are unemployed.
  • Yonder moon may be eclipsed,—
  • That is no uncommon thing;
  • For the sun to be so too,—
  • What but evil could it bring?
• • Thunders crash, and lightnings flash;
  • Nought is restful, nought delights;‡
  • Hundred torrents leap and foam;
  • Mountain-crags fall from their heights;
  • Where were lofty cliffs are chasms,
  • Where were deep ravines are hills.
  • Ah, these men (in power) to-day!
  • Will they now not curb their wills?
• • With her Counsellor Hwang-fu,
  • Minister of Instruction Fan,
  • The First Minister Kĭa-pih,
  • The Court Caterer Chung-yun,
  • Household Secretary Tsau,
  • Kwai the Master of the Horse,
  • Kiü the Captain of the Guards,—
  • Was the handsome wife,* the incendiary! in force.
• • Doth not he, this same Hwang-fu,
  • Speak of “times inopportune”?
  • Why then so ignore our plans,
  • Calling us away (so soon)?†
  • Gone are all our walls and roofs,
  • Fields are very swamps and wastes;
  • Yet quoth he, “I hurt you not:
  • These are but the laws’ behests.”
• • Ah, deep-witted is Hwang-fu:
  • Builds in Hiang his residence,
  • Chooses three as Ministers
  • Who, i’ faith, have wealth immense,
  • Must not leave one man of worth
  • Who might save our king his crown,
  • And selects the richest men‡
  • There in Hiang to settle down.
• • I, hard struggling with my work,
  • Must my hardships never name.
  • Sland’rous tongues make clamour loud,
  • Though in nought am I to blame.
  • Of the people’s miseries
  • Heaven is not indeed the source;
  • Fawning words, with hate behind,
  • Owe to men such power and force.
• • Long-enduring grief* is mine,
  • And acute, distressing pain.
  • Men all round me are content,
  • Downcast I alone remain.
  • None but may retire (betimes);
  • I alone to ease must not aspire.
  • All-impenetrable Will of Heaven!
  • Like my friends must I not venture to retire.

II. iv. 10.

FURTHER LAMENTATION, BY AN UNDERLING AT COURT.

• • Great is Heaven, and far-extending,
  • Yet its kindness is not great;
  • Death and dearth and famine sending,
  • ’Tis destroying every State,
  • Bounteous Heaven! now clothed in terror!
  • Hath it then no thought, no care?
  • Not to speak of those in error—
  • Who their punishment now bear—
  • Here are others, free from error,
  • All in ruin, everywhere.
• • Honoured Chow is extirpated!
  • Nought avails to end its woes.
  • Leaders have their posts vacated;
  • Of my own toils no one knows.
  • None of the three Chiefs* evinces
  • Willing service, soon or late;
  • Here the feudal lords and princes
  • Morn or eve reluctant wait.†
  • “Make reforms,” some one commences—
  • All yet ends in deeds of hate.
• • How, Great Heaven, compare such doing,—
  • Treating weightiest words as air?—‡
  • ’Tis like travellers pursuing
  • Ways that end they know not where.
  • All ye magnates, one and other,
  • Let your self-respect appear.
  • Why reveres not each his brother?
  • Ah! ye do not Heaven revere.
• • War is rife,—no retraction!
  • Famine,—yet no movement made!
  • Day by day grows my vexation,
  • Though I be of humble grade;
  • Ye, the men of high position,
  • All are slow to mention facts:
  • Each replies—on requisition—
  • But when scandalized retracts.
• • Woe the speech that is unskilful!§
  • He whose words have deeper source
  • Than his tongue, but fares the worse
  • Well for him whose speech is skilful!
  • Stream-like flow of smart address
  • Brings a man all good success.
• • It is said, “To be in office
  • Means sore trial and jeopardy.
  • If one say, ‘This should not be,’
  • ’Tis to offend the Son of Heaven;
  • If one say, ‘This ought to be,’
  • Then offence to friends is given.”
• • Yet return, say I, unto the royal city.*
  • Ah, but there, say you, we are unhoused.
  • Tears of blood I weep in secret for the pity,
  • Never speaking but hard thoughts are roused.
  • Once, yet, when ye left to live elsewhere,
  • Who, then, built the houses for you there?

BOOK V.

II. v. 1.

WORTHLESS COUNSELLORS.

• • Bounteous Heaven its stern displeasure
  • Vents* upon this lower earth.
  • When shall we have done with counsels
  • And with schemes devoid of worth?†
  • Be a counsel good, ’tis slighted,
  • Be it ill, ’tis entertained.
  • When I see them at such tactics
  • I am sore distressed and pained.
• • In their concord and their discord
  • There is much to be deplored.
  • Be a policy a good one,
  • ’Tis by all of them ignored;
  • Let an ill one be brought forward,
  • Upon that they all depend.
  • When I see them at such tactics,
  • What, methinks, will be the end?
• • Our divining-shells, exhausted,
  • Tell no more what plan is right.
  • Counsellors are far too many,
  • So can never all unite.
  • Though the Court is filled with speakers,
  • Who himself dare implicate?*
  • Like men planning routes and never moving,
  • Thus it is they never get a-gate.
• • O the pity! in their counsels
  • Not the ancients are their guides,
  • Nor great policies their standards:
  • The last word they hear decides!†
  • The last word their sole contention!
  • Like men planning to erect
  • Homes to live in while on travel!
  • Nothing can they thus effect.
• • Though the country be unsettled,
  • There are wise men, and unwise;
  • Though the inhabitants be dwindling,
  • Some have sense, some can advise.
  • Some are grave, and some methodic.
  • Yet, meseems, are one and all—
  • Like the waters from a fountain—
  • Verging to a fatal fall!
• • Who will dare to rouse a tiger?
  • Who will dare to wade the Ho?
  • Sirs, ye know but one way only;
  • Not another do ye know.
  • Act as from a sense of danger,
  • With precaution and with care,—
  • As a yawning gulf o’erlooking,
  • As on ice that scarce will bear!

II. v. 2.

LAMENTS AND WARNINGS DURING AN EVIL TIME.

• • Though small be the turtle-dove,
  • It will high in the welkin soar.
  • My heart is wrung, as I muse
  • On our sires in the days of yore.
  • At the earliest dawn two forms*
  • Haunt my soul, and I sleep no more.
• • Sedate, shrewd men o’er their cups
  • Are sober and self-restrained;
  • More sottish from day to day
  • Grow these witless and cloudy-brained.
  • Give heed to decorum, all!
  • Heaven’s gifts are not twice obtained.
• • Wild beans that on commons grow
  • Are the people’s common quest.†
  • The mulberry-insect’s brood
  • By the sphex is borne (to her nest).‡
  • Instruct, then, and train your sons;
  • You will make them good as the best.
• • Take note how the wagtail sings
  • As she flutters from place to place.§
  • The days of our life speed on,
  • And the months are marching apace;—
  • Up early, and late repose;
  • So bring to your parents no disgrace.
• • The green-beaks,* hovering round,
  • Come pecking the grain in the yards.
  • Alas for our needy and lone—
  • Thought meet for prisons and wards!
  • With handfuls of grain I divine
  • Whether fortune aught better accords.
• • Our humble, respectful men
  • Are on tops of trees, as it were;
  • Or, as peering into a gulf,
  • Shrink nervously back with care;
  • Or softly and fearfully tread
  • As on ice that will scarcely bear.

II. v. 3.

LAMENT OF A DEFAMED AND BANISHED PRINCE.†

• • There go the rooks, all flying homeward,
  • Flock after flock, in bustling glee;
  • Around me there is none unhappy,
  • I am alone in misery!
  • Wherein have I offended Heaven?
  • My guilt—whence doth it then accrue?
  • My soul is full of heaviness:
  • Alas, I know not what to do.
• • Once trodden smooth was Chow’s great highway,
  • All o’er it now rank grasses grow.
  • It grieves, it pains my heart to see it:
  • Each thought comes like a stunning blow.
  • Sleep without comfort,* sighs continual,—
  • My sorrow brings on age amain;
  • My heart is full of heaviness,
  • And throbs as throbs an aching brain.
• • The trees† around his native village
  • A man with fond regard must view.
  • I looked to none as to my father,
  • None than my mother found more true.
  • Are not these very hairs my father’s?
  • Hung I not once on a mother’s breast?
  • O that, when Heaven thus gave me being,
  • My time had been in time of rest!
• • Amid the green luxuriant willows
  • With clamour the cicadas grind;
  • And o’er the deep dark standing water
  • Bend rush and reed before the wind.
  • Myself am like a drifting vessel,
  • And whither destined do not know;
  • My soul is full of heaviness;
  • E’en roughest rest* must I forego.
• • The stag, with all his wild careering,
  • Still runs reluctant (from the herd).
  • The pheasant, crowing in the morning,
  • Crows but for his companion bird.
  • Myself am like a tree death-stricken,
  • Reft of its branches by disease;
  • My soul is full of heaviness;
  • How is it none my trouble sees?
• • See the chased hare when seeking refuge;
  • Some, sure, will interpose to save.
  • Lies a dead man upon the highway,
  • Some, sure, will dig for him a grave.
  • And should a king suppress all feeling,
  • And bear unmoved the sight of woe?
  • My soul is full of heaviness:
  • My tears run down in ceaseless flow.
• • The king lends ear to the maligner,
  • Responding, aye, as to a pledge.*
  • He lacks the charitable spirit,
  • Stays not to test what men allege.
  • In felling trees men note their leanings,
  • In cleaving wood they note its grain;—
  • (Not so with him); he clears the guilty,
  • And I, the guiltless, bear the pain.
• • Nought may be higher than a mountain,†
  • Nought may be deeper than a spring.
  • Walls may have ears: let words not lightly
  • Be uttered even by a king.
  • “Yet leave alone my fishing dam;‡
  • “My wicker-nets—remove them not:
  • “Myself am spurned;—some vacant hour
  • “May bring compassion for my lot.”

II. v. 4.

A SLANDERED OFFICIAL.

• • O far Great Heaven! we call thee
  • Our Father and our Mother!
  • Alas that on the blameless
  • Such gross disorders gather!
  • I verily am guiltless,
  • Yet stern is thy displeasure.
  • I truly am offenceless,
  • Thou harsh beyond all measure.
• • Disorder first arises
  • On falsehood’s first receiving;
  • And gathers force when rulers
  • Deem slanders worth believing.
  • Showed but the king displeasure,
  • Disorder soon had vanished;
  • And favoured he (the worthy),
  • So too it soon were banished.
• • When kings make frequent compacts,*
  • Disorder grows with vigour;
  • When faith they put in villains,
  • Then cruel is its rigour.
  • When villains’ words are blandest,
  • Disorder (most) progresses;
  • While failure in their duty
  • The monarch but distresses.
• • Grand is the ancestral temple;
  • A master mind designed it.†
  • Well framed was our Great Charter;
  • Good men and wise defined it.
  • Whate’er be these men’s motive,
  • I’ll weigh it well and watch it:
  • Though sharp the hare, and cunning,
  • The dog will round and catch it!
• • What woods are soft and supple,—
  • Our wiser men will grow them.
  • What words are said at random,—
  • One’s inner sense should know them.
  • Ah, glib high-sounding language
  • But to the tongue one traces,
  • And artful dulcet* speeches
  • To men of brazen faces.
• • And these—who are they?—Dwellers
  • On a river’s swampy borders!
  • Yet these weak, nerveless creatures
  • Give rise to such disorders!
  • Ye ulcered, swollen-shinned ones!
  • How should ye be so daring?
  • But though ye make grand schemes, and many,
  • How few to follow you are caring?

II. v. 5.

ALIENATION OF AN OLD FRIEND.†

• • And who is this? A man whose heart
  • Is in great jeopardy.
  • How comes he to approach my dam,
  • And not come in to me?
  • Ah, who is he whose heels he dogs?
  • Pâu, surely, it must be!
• • The two pursue the selfsame road;
  • But whether deals this blow?
  • How pass my dam, and not come in
  • His sympathy to show?
  • I am beneath his notice now;
  • At first it was not so.
• • Ay who is this? Why comes he now
  • Along my path, more near?
  • I fail to see himself as yet,
  • Only his voice I hear.
  • Who cannot face a man for shame,
  • Of Heaven hath he no fear?
• • Ay who is this? The man is like
  • A gusty whirling wind.
  • Why blow not from the North, or South,
  • (In front, or else behind)?
  • Why didst thou come so near my dam—
  • Only to vex my mind?
• • While driving leisurely along,
  • Thou hast no time to stop!
  • E’en driving quickly, there are times
  • Grease in thy wheels to drop.
  • Cam’st thou but once! Why am I left
  • To look, and long, and hope?
• • If thou hadst turned and called on me,
  • Then ease of heart were mine.
  • To turn and not to call—’tis hard
  • Such halting to divine.
  • Cam’st thou but once! Then come had peace:
  • (No more should I repine).
• • The whistle once the elder one,
  • The flute the younger blew;*
  • We both were strung upon one string.
  • If now I seem untrue,
  • I will bring forth my victims three,†
  • And swear to thee anew.
• • Art thou a ghost, a watersprite?
  • That all approach is vain.
  • Could face meet face and eye meet eye.
  • All then were clear and plain.—
  • Here to thy tune of twist and turn
  • I set this goodly strain.‡

II. v. 6.

DEFAMATION.

• • How finely wrought! how exquisite!
  • You weave the perfectest brocade!
  • Ye scandal-weavers!—yet ye go
  • Too far with your tirade.
• • What gaping and wide-open mouths!
  • So many Southern Sieves,§ indeed!
  • Ye scandal-mongers!—Say, yet, who
  • Takes in these plots the lead?
• • With clitter-clatter, here and there,
  • Ye plot, ye seek to vilify,
  • Yet of the tales ye tell—beware,
  • For others say ye lie.
• • Adroit and shifty—so ye plot,
  • All eager till the scandal spreads.
  • True, ’tis believed; yet even now
  • Recoils on your own heads.
• • The haughty ones are overjoyed;
  • The men who toil are sore annoyed.
  • O azure Heaven! O azure Heaven!
  • Those haughty ones do Thou regard.
  • And pity those whose toil is hard.
• • The slanderers!—And yet I’d know
  • By whose support these plottings grow.
  • Seize the defamers!—banish them
  • To wolves and tigers forth!
  • If wolves and tigers spurn such prey,
  • Send them into the North.
  • And if the North should spare them still,
  • Give them to Heaven’s own will.
• • Up to the cultivated hill
  • Through willow-patches lies a way.*
  • And I, Mang-tse the Eunuch, am
  • The author of this lay.
  • All ye of higher grade, take heed
  • And list to what I say.

II. v. 7.

FRIENDSHIP VEERS WITH FORTUNE.

• • It blows, it blows, the East wind blows,
  • First softly, then the rains ensue.
  • Once were alarms and anxious fears,
  • And I was all in all to you;
  • Now there is peace and all that cheers
  • You turn and spurn me from your view.
• • It blows, it blows, the East wind blows,
  • First softly, then with fierce hot blast
  • Once, in alarm, with anxious fears,
  • You held me to your bosom fast;
  • Now there is peace and all that cheers
  • Away like refuse I am cast.
• • It blows, it blows, the East wind blows,
  • And on the rugged rock-crowned height
  • There’s not a plant it fails to kill,
  • And not a tree it fails to blight.
  • Blind to my excellences still,
  • My little faults you keep in sight.

II. v. 8.

THE ORPHAN.

• • How tall and strong the southernwood has grown!
  • Ah no!—the tansy* rather.
  • O mother mine! O father!
  • And for my life what travail ye have known!
• • Yea, tall and strong the southernwood I see;
  • Nay, wormwood—somewhat other.
  • O father mine! O mother!
  • And for my life what toil and pain had ye!
• • Ah, when no more the flagon is supplied,
  • Disgrace befals the jar.*
  • O better lot by far
  • Than orphaned life, to long ago have died!
• • The fatherless—in whom shall he confide?
  • The motherless find rest?
  • Abroad, with grief suppressed
  • He goes; returns,—none hastens to his side
• • O father, thou didst give my life to me!
  • O mother, thou didst nourish
  • And comfort me, and cherish
  • And rear and train me from my infancy,
• • And watch and tend and to thy bosom press
  • At parting or return!
  • To requite such love I burn,
  • But, like Great Heaven itself, ’tis measureless.
• • Around South Hill’s bleak eminences moan
  • The battling, wheeling winds!
  • Ah, while none other finds
  • Life robb’d of joy, why suffer I alone?
• • Yea, round South Hill’s acclivities and bluffs
  • The circling storm-wind beats.
  • Round me is none but meets
  • With joy in life: I only meet rebuffs.

II. v. 9.

THE NEGLECTED EASTERN STATES.*

• • Once supped we from well-laden trenchers,
  • And thornwood spoons bent to the loads!
  • ’Twixt here and Chow, worn smooth as whetstones,
  • And straight as arrows, were the roads.
  • Thereon the great officials travelled,
  • Plebeians there to gaze would go:—
  • When I look back and contemplate it,
  • My tears in very torrents flow.
• • Here in the East, whate’er the Province,†
  • Shuttle and distaff none may use;‡
  • And sparsely-woven fibre-sandals
  • Must serve to walk on frozen dews.
  • There, dainty tender sons of nobles
  • Are journeying on those roads of Chow.
  • Alack! their goings and their comings
  • Fill me with sickening sorrow now.
• • Ye ice-cold rills, from springs escaping!
  • Do not the gathered fuel soak.
  • Sore harassed, troubled, sleepless, sighing,—
  • Enough have our afflicted folk.
  • Their firewood is cut down and bundled:
  • Had they but strength to get it in,
  • Poor toiling miserable people,
  • Then some repose perchance they’d win.
• • Here in the East the sons of nobles
  • For service hard remain unpaid;
  • There in the West the sons of nobles
  • Are in most gorgeous garb arrayed.
  • There, too, the very sons of boatmen
  • Apparelled are in furs of bears;
  • Yea, those of humblest antecedents
  • Are charged with all the land’s affairs.
• • Let some of them have wine before them,
  • They take no count yet of its strength;
  • And their long-dangling girdle-trinkets
  • In their opinion lack in length!
  • —There, looking down with radiant brightness,
  • Appears in Heaven the Milky Way;*
  • There, too, stand out the Weaving Sisters,†
  • Seven stages making through the day—
• • Yet, weaving through their stages seven,
  • Nought bright for us do they produce.
  • And the Draught Oxen‡ shimmering yonder
  • For waggon-draught are scarce of use!
  • Though in the East be the star of morning,
  • Though in the West the evening star,
  • And though the Hare-net§ show its foldings,
  • —All keep their paths (nor mend nor mar)!
• • There in the South the Sieve* is shining,
  • Yet not for sifting was it made.
  • There in the North appears the Ladle,†
  • Yet ne’er a liquor will it lade.
  • Though southward there the Sieve be shining,
  • Here points its Tongue‡ beyond the rest!
  • Though northward there appear the Ladle,
  • It hoists its Handle in the West!

II. v. 10.

EVIL TIMES.

• • With the fourth month cometh Summer,
  • With the sixth its heats decline.—
  • Are my sires§ no longer human,
  • Feeling not for me and mine?
• • Chilly grow the days of Autumn,
  • Nature fading everywhere.—
  • Sick of tumults and desertions,—
  • Whither should one yet repair?
• • Now the Winter days grow colder,
  • And the storm-winds round us moan.—
  • Ah, while all around are happy,
  • Why am I distressed alone?
• • On the heights the trees grow grandly,
  • Chestnuts here, and plum-trees there.—
  • Our high∥ places breed despoilers,
  • Of their mischief none aware.
• • See the waters of the fountain,
  • Turbid now, then crystalline.—
  • Daily wedded to Misfortune,
  • When shall I make Fortune mine?
• • Han and Kiang are noble rivers,
  • Regents of the Southern States!—
  • Why do I now count for nothing,
  • Whom long service enervates?
• • I am not a hawk, an eagle,
  • That may soar into the sky.
  • Nor am I an eel or lamprey,
  • In the deep to lurk and lie.
• • Hills grow royal fern and bracken,
  • Vales the medlar and the sloe.—*
  • I, a great one, write these verses,
  • Let them tell my tale of woe!

BOOK VI.

II. vi. 1.

AN OVERWORKED OFFICIAL.

• • I climbed yon northern hills;
  • Plucked medlars on the way.
  • Strong, hale must be the officer
  • Who works from dawn till end of day.
  • And the king’s service dureth long with me;
  • And sorrow-stricken must my parents be.
• • Beneath the great wide Heaven
  • The king owns every land.
  • Go round each border—everywhere
  • His servants at his bidding stand.
  • Scant justice yet to me his Chiefs* have shown;
  • For I must work as were all wit my own.
• • On, on, my four male steeds!
  • King’s service brooks no rest.
  • Well that I have not weight of years;
  • For few with strength like mine are blest.
  • While my backbone as yet its strength retains,
  • Work for my head and hands all round remains.†
• • Some live content, in tranquil ease;
  • Some for their country their full vigour spend.
  • Some rest recumbent on their beds;
  • And some have journeyings that know no end.
• • Some know not clamours and alarms;
  • And some have miserable toil and pain.
  • Some idly roost, or lie supine;
  • Some serve their king, and scarcely bear the strain.
• • Some give themselves to mirth and wine;
  • Some live in miserable fear of blame.
  • Some gad about, and criticize;
  • While some have all to do that bears a name.

II. vi. 2.

ADVICE TO THE OVERBURDENED OFFICIAL.

• • Go not near the heavy cart;
  • ’Twill but cover thee with dust.
  • Take not all thy cares to heart;
  • Mar alone thy health it must.
• • Go not near the heavy cart;
  • Else the dust will dim thy sight.
  • Take not all thy cares to heart;
  • That can lead to nought more bright.
• • Go not near the heavy cart;
  • Else the dust will cloud thee o’er.
  • Take not all thy cares to heart;
  • That will only bring thee more.

II. vi. 3.

THE REGRETS OF FOREIGN SERVICE.

• • High Heaven, bright-beaming! Earth below
  • Lies in Thy sovereign view.
  • Forth to the West had I to march,
  • Far as these wilds of K’iu.
  • ’Twas on the second month I left,—
  • The opening day. Gone now
  • Are winter and summer. Sad my heart!
  • Too keen the sting, I vow.
  • I mind me how my colleagues fare,
  • And tears in showers I shed.
  • Have I no longing to be there?
  • —The net* of guilt I dread.
• • When first I left, the sun and moon
  • Were crossing o’er the line.†
  • When turn we homewards? for the year
  • Hastes now to its decline.
  • I mind me how I stand alone,
  • How falls on me the stress
  • Of cares full many. Sad my heart!
  • Free never from distress.
  • I mind me how my colleagues fare:
  • There my fond thoughts return.
  • Have I no longing to be there?
  • —I fear rude taunts and stern.
• • Erst as I left, the sun and moon
  • Shone down with genial ray.
  • When turn we homewards? Public cares
  • Press heavier day by day.
  • Fast wanes the year; they gather in
  • The southernwood, the beans.
  • O sad my heart, for to myself
  • More misery it means.
  • I mind me how my colleagues fare:
  • I rise—spend night without.
  • Have I no longing to be there?
  • But change* I dread and doubt.
• • Ah, ye good sirs! no permanent
  • Tranquillity have you.
  • Yet quietly your places fill;
  • Mix with the good and true.
  • Then will the Spirits have regard,
  • Thence good to you accure.
• • Ah, ye good sirs! Your own repose
  • May yet belie your trust!
  • But quietly your places fill,
  • And love the true and just.
  • Then will the Spirits have regard,
  • And win great good ye must.

II. vi. 4.

THE KING LOVES PLEASURE MORE THAN VIRTUE.†

• • What noisy clangour there of bells,
  • Where the Hwai river proudly swells!
  • My sad and wounded soul (rebels).
  • With fond regret
  • On our good kings my memory dwells,
  • Nor can forget.
  • Ay, there his bells make music gay,
  • Where the proud Hwai sweeps on its way.
  • My soul is sad and grieved to-day.
  • When good men reigned,
  • Virtue did ever mark their sway,
  • Pure and unstained.
• • The bells they clang, the drums they ply,
  • There where the Hwai’s three islands lie.
  • With saddened soul I chafe and sigh.
  • When good men reign,
  • In them a virtue we descry
  • Of different strain.
• • The bells clang out, with clamorous tone,
  • And lute and harp unite their own,
  • And pipe keeps time with sounding-stone
  • To Ya or Nan,*
  • Or flute-dance;—here are flaws unknown,
  • (So skilled each man.)

II. vi. 5.

AT THE GREAT SACRIFICE IN THE ANCESTRAL TEMPLE.

• • Where once were tangled thickets,
  • Now gone is every thorn.
  • Thanks to our father’s labours,
  • We grow our rice and corn,—
  • Our rice in crops abundant,
  • Our corn on every hand.
  • Thus filled are all our garners,
  • And stacks unnumbered stand.
  • For meat and drink they serve us,
  • For sacrificial food,
  • For comfort, for refreshment,*
  • For pledge of higher good.
• • With solemn grave demeanour
  • Thy bulls and rams prepare;†
  • So come we to the altars.—‡
  • Here flaying, seething there,
  • Here dressing, there presenting,
  • Priests offering by the gate,—§
  • So speed the rites sublimely;
  • The Sires∥ are there in state.
  • Good Spirits¶ love the offerings,
  • Good sons** win good success,
  • Rewarded with great blessing
  • To æons limitless.
• • Gravely the fires are tended;
  • The stands are made full large;
  • Some broil the flesh, some roast it;
  • Hushed are the Wives in charge
  • Who fill the numerous trenchers.
  • Guests, visitors,—each one*
  • In turn presents the pledge-cup,
  • And all is duly done,
  • With smile and word befitting.
  • So come the Spirits down,†
  • Responding with great blessing,
  • Long life thereof the crown.
• • Now, all our powers exhausted,
  • All rites exactly done,
  • Through the skilled Priest a message
  • Comes to the pious son:
  • “Thy fragrant filial offerings
  • “And feast the Spirits please;
  • “Who grant thee hundred blessings,
  • “As full, as true as these.‡
  • “Order and zeal thou showest,
  • “Rightmindedness and care.
  • “Of myriad—tens of myriads—
  • “Best gifts long be thou heir.”
• • Ended is now the ritual;
  • Warning give bells and drums;
  • The pious son then seats him;
  • The good priest’s message comes,
  • Saying, “Well have drunk the Spirits”;
  • Then the dread Proxies§ rise,
  • And drum and bell escort them;
  • And back each Spirit hies.∥
  • The servants and the matrons
  • Clear promptly all away,
  • And kith and kin get ready:
  • “To our feast now,” say they.
• • Musicians enter playing,
  • This after-grace to cheer.
  • With thy good things before them
  • Peace reigns unruffled here.
  • With food and drink then sated,
  • Bow heads both small and great:
  • “The Shades, pleased with thy feast, Sir,
  • “Thy life perpetuate.
  • “Right willingly and promptly
  • “This service hast thou done;
  • “And may each generation*
  • “Fail not to hand it on.”

II. vi. 6.

HUSBANDRY AND ANCESTOR-WORSHIP.

• • Ay, this South Hill assuredly
  • Did Yü (in time of old) reclaim;
  • So hill and dale were cleared,—and he,
  • The Latest Heir,† allots the same,—
  • Manor and farm, with varying bound,
  • Where South and Eastward lies the ground.
• • And when the heaven is clouded o’er,
  • And snow descends in heavy flakes,
  • And drizzling rain comes furthermore,
  • (The fields) it feeds, their thirst it slakes;
  • And thus the glad and sated earth
  • Brings all our sorts of grain to birth.
• • Manor and farm have every care;
  • And millets flourish, full and fine,
  • The harvest of the Latest Heir,
  • Whereof to make the food and wine
  • Our Proxies and our guests to give,
  • So he the myriad years may live.
• • And cots within the fields one sees;
  • For all the plots are lined with gourds,
  • And peeled and pickled all are these
  • To offer to the ancient lords,
  • That long the Latest Heir may live,
  • And Heaven’s full benison receive.
• • Oblations of pure wine he pours;
  • And then the dark-roan ox (he fells)
  • And offers to his ancestors;
  • Takes next the knife with tinkling bells,*
  • Lays bare the hair, and (tested that),†
  • Takes portions of the blood and fat;
• • These doth he offer and present,
  • And fragrant perfume fills the air;
  • And to the rites all-reverent
  • The ancient Sires in state repair,
  • And with great blessing these requite—
  • With life enduring, infinite!

II. vi. 7.

THRIFT AND GOOD YEARS.

• • O fair are those far-stretching fields!
  • Take yearly out the one in ten,*
  • Yet can we take of former yields
  • And feed therewith our husbandmen;
  • Long have the years been good. And now
  • We come where southward slopes the land.
  • And here they weed, and here they hoe,†
  • And rich and rank the millets stand.
  • And where the servants take their rest
  • I cheer the foremost and the best.
• • ’Tis by our gifts of millets fine,
  • And rams as victims blemishless,—
  • By sacrifice at every shrine,—‡
  • Our fields such goodly wealth possess.
  • Thus is the farmers’ joy complete:
  • And lutes they play, and drums they beat,
  • The Father of the Fields§ to greet,
  • To speed the prayer for showers sweet,
  • To make our millets thrive yet more,
  • To give our men and maids good store.
• • Now comes the Latest of his Line!
  • While wives and children bring the food
  • Here where to south the fields incline.
  • The Steward, too, in cheery mood
  • Arrives, and, fingering here and there,
  • Tastes whether all be good or no.
  • The crops look perfect everywhere:
  • Well and abundantly they grow.
  • Our lord can no displeasure feel;
  • The husbandmen are stirred to zeal.
• • Thy crops, O long-descended lord,
  • Roof-high will grow, and thick as thatch;
  • Thy stacks, O long-descended lord,
  • Islands and mounds anon will match.
  • Seek must we for a thousand floors,
  • Seek must we for a myriad carts!
  • Millets and maize and rice—what stores!
  • What pleasure to the farmers’ hearts!
  • May greatest blessings thee repay:
  • Live thou for ever and for aye!

II. vi. 8.

THE SAME.

• • Large are the fields, and much there is to sow,
  • The seed is chosen, all is done with care,
  • And all being ready, to the work we go;
  • And here beginning, each with sharpened share,
  • We break into the southward-sloping land,
  • And scatter there of every sort of grain;
  • Anon erect and stately shall it stand.
  • And thus the Latest Heir his wish obtain.
• • Anon the ear, and then the full soft seed,
  • Anon more firm, and fine as it is firm,—
  • No darnel shall be there, nor noxious weed;
  • The caterpillar and the cankerworm
  • And grub and weevil shall be cleared away:
  • To the young crop shall none bring damage dire.
  • O ghostly Father of the Fields, we pray,
  • Take them, and give them to the flames of fire.
• • The clouds are gathering now, an inky pall,
  • The rains begin, in mild and gentle showers;
  • First on the public fields then let them fall,
  • And after the descend on these of ours!
  • And yonder will be young ungathered grain,
  • And here be sheaves we trouble not to bind,
  • And yonder handfuls suffered to remain,
  • And here the straggling heads we leave behind;—
  • These the lone widows for their portion gain.*
• • And now he comes, the Latest of his Line,
  • Whileas the wives and children fetch the food,—
  • Here where the acres to the south incline.
  • The Steward, too, arrives, in cheery mood.
  • He† comes, and the pure sacrifice sets forth
  • Of victims red and black, and gifts of grain,
  • To Spirits of the air—of South and North;‡
  • And by these gifts and offerings he shall gain
  • To blessings great still more of greater worth.

II. vi. 9.

WELCOME TO THE SOVEREIGN AT THE EASTERN CAPITAL, BY THE FEUDAL PRINCES.

• • See there adown the Loh,
  • How its proud waters flow;
  • There comes our king!
  • Fortune’s full gifts he bears,
  • Apron of scarlet wears,
  • Six hosts,* whene’er it flares,
  • Round him to bring.
• • See there adown the Loh,
  • How its proud waters flow;
  • There comes our king!
  • Gems flashing on his sword!
  • Long may he live our lord,
  • Forth from his House to ward
  • Each evil thing!
• • See there adown the Loh,
  • How its proud waters flow;
  • There comes our king!
  • Fortune’s full gifts hath he;
  • Long may he live to see
  • Kingdom and family
  • Safe ’neath his wing!

II. vi. 10.

THE KING’S RESPONSE (TO THE LAST).

• • Brightly the flower-buds blow,
  • Richly their leaves do grow.—
  • Meeting my lords
  • Light beats my heart again,
  • Light beats my heart again;
  • Peace and the praise of men
  • Be your rewards!
• • Brightly the buds unfold,
  • Rich are the hues of gold.—
  • You, Sirs, I see
  • With every grace endued,
  • With every grace endued;
  • May all beatitude
  • Yours ever be!
• • Bright are the buds, and fair,
  • White here, and golden there:—
  • You, Sirs, I see.
  • White teams, with dusky manes,
  • White teams, with dusky manes.
  • Drove ye, with glossy reins
  • Six, as should be.
• • Left of me, left of me,
  • Deftly, becomingly
  • Me do ye serve.
  • Right of me, right of me,
  • All do ye mightfully,
  • So take ye rightfully
  • That ye deserve!

BOOK VII.

II. vii. 1.

GUEST-SONG.—THE KING TO THE FEUDAL PRINCES.

• • Green-beaks flutter, hither, thither,
  • With their striped and mottled wings.—
  • Take your mirth, my lords, together;
  • Heaven’s bright blessing to you clings.
• • Green-beaks flutter, hither, thither,
  • With their necks of motley hue.—
  • Take your mirth, my lords, together;
  • Screens to all the States are you,—
• • Screens and bulwarks, and examples
  • To the hundred lesser lords;
  • Never hoarding, nought impeding,—
  • Shall not great be your rewards?*
• • In the curving cup of horn is
  • Mellow wine of choicest sort.
  • To the feast where nought of scorn is
  • Thousand blessings pay their court.

II. vii. 2.

RESPONSE OF THE PRINCES TO THE KING.

• • Pairs of teal are on the wing;
  • To the nets and snares decoy them.—*
  • Live ten thousand years, O king,
  • And in health† and wealth enjoy them!
• • Teal in pairs are by the weirs,
  • And their left wings they are folding.—
  • Live, O king, ten thousand years,
  • Long thy rightful blessings holding!
• • To the stalls the teams they bring,
  • And of grain and grass they give them.—
  • Live ten thousand years, O king;
  • And in health and blessing live them!
• • To the stalls the teams they bring,
  • And with grass and grain they feed them.—
  • Live ten thousand years, O king;
  • And may health and blessing speed them!

II. vii. 3.

THE KING ENTERTAINS HIS RELATIVES.

• • What manner of men are those,
  • The festal bonnets that wear,
  • As wine of thy choicest flows,
  • And food of thy best is there?
  • Not strangers are there, ah no,—
  • None other than kin of thine:—
  • (Like) the dodder and mistletoe
  • O’erspreading the yew and pine!
  • While they saw not as yet their lord,
  • All restless and dull were they;
  • But now they have seen their lord,
  • Are any so glad, so gay?
• • What manner of men are those,
  • The festal bonnets that wear,
  • As wine of thy choicest flows,
  • And the season’s best is their fare?
  • Not strangers are there, ah no,—
  • Come hither have kinsmen all:—
  • The dodder and mistletoe
  • O’erspreading the pine-tree tall!
  • While they saw not as yet their lord,
  • They were but in doleful plight;
  • But now they have seen their lord,
  • Are any so cheered, so bright?
• • Ay, there upon (every) head
  • The festal bonnet is found;
  • And thy wines are the choicest made,
  • Thy viands in piles abound.
  • Not strangers are there, but all
  • By blood or by marriage are kin.
  • —Oh, like as when snow will fall,
  • As sleet it will first begin,—
  • Uncertain is death’s dark day,
  • Nor long may these meetings last;
  • So drink ye to-night and be gay,
  • At your worthy lord’s repast.

II. vii. 4.

THE MEETING OF THE BRIDE.

• • How creak and clatter my axles, O!
  • Intent on my sweet young bride I go,
  • Nor hunger nor thirst can know.
  • One famed for her worth comes meeting me,
  • And what though we lack good company?
  • We’ll feast and be merry—we!
• • Where close grow the trees in the woodland wide
  • The pheasants come roosting, side by side,
  • And prompt is my stately bride.
  • Bright lessons of virtue thou wilt bring;
  • We’ll feast, and thy praises I will sing;
  • My love to thee still shall cling.
• • And what though we lack the choicest wine,
  • And what if our food be not so fine,
  • And my worth add nought to thine?
  • O yet may we drink our fill, perchance,
  • O yet may we eat our fill, perchance,
  • O yet may we sing and dance.
• • Far up have I climbed to yon lofty brows,
  • And hewed for fuel the oak-tree boughs,
  • For fuel the oak-tree boughs,
  • With their foliage growing luxuriantly;
  • Yet seldom have I had glimpse of thee:—
  • Ah, now shall my heart beat free!
• • High mountains are looming on before,
  • And long is the road to be travelled o’er;
  • On, on then, my team of four!
  • Like strings on a lute my six reins are plied,
  • Anon shall I thee behold, my bride,
  • And my heart be gratified.

II. vii. 5.

SLANDERERS AT COURT.

• • Hear the green flies* buzzing, buzzing,
  • Settling on the hedge.—
  • Trust thou not, O gracious Ruler,
  • What in slander men allege.
• • Hear the green flies buzzing, settling
  • On the brake of thorn.—
  • By the sland’rers, so unceasing,
  • Is the land asunder torn.
• • Hear the green flies buzzing, settling
  • On each hazel bush.—
  • Ah, the sland’rers know no limit,
  • And us two asunder push.

II. vii. 6.

SCENES AT WINE-FEASTS.†

• • The feast begins,—on either hand
  • The guests by rank reclining;
  • In close array the dishes stand,
  • The meats and fruits aligning.
  • The wines are choice, and flavoured well,
  • The guests all harmonizing;
  • Placed on the stands are drum and bell;
  • All round are pledge-cups rising.
  • Then the great target is prepared,
  • And bows brought out and quivers,
  • And marksmen man with man are paired:—
  • “Now do your best endeavours!
  • Hit yonder central white who can
  • The cup* may order for his man.”
• • For flute-dance—drum, harmonicon
  • Unite to give the measure;
  • ’Mid all the rites this too is done
  • Th’ illustrious Sires to pleasure.
  • “For all the ritual thus gone through,
  • So full and so resplendent,
  • True blessings they confer on you,
  • And joy on each descendant.
  • Add mirth to joy. Each do his best”:—
  • (So speaks the Personator).
  • A cup is drawn then by a guest,†
  • And then comes in a waiter
  • Who pours them out the Cup of Peace;
  • And so the ceremonies cease.
• • The guests, when first they sit them down,
  • Look mild and most respectful,
  • And—ere their intellects they drown—
  • Sedate, of nought forgetful.
  • But when to great excess they go,—
  • Proprieties renouncing,—
  • Out of their seats they start, and oh
  • The capering and bouncing!
  • So is it,—while they drink not deep,
  • They bear themselves subduedly;
  • But when due bounds they overleap,
  • Behave themselves most rudely.
  • Ay, when to such excess they go,
  • No sense of order do they show.
• • Ay, when the guests have drunk their fill,
  • What bellowing, what brawling!
  • Dishes they overturn and spill
  • With posturing and sprawling.
  • ’Tis so, when thus far they have gone,—
  • Unconscious of offending,—
  • Caps all awry, and barely on,
  • Their gambols seem unending.
  • If so you drank, then went away,
  • ’Twould do you good, not hurt you;*
  • But so to drink and so to stay,
  • This means goodbye to virtue!
  • A wine-feast is a rare good thing
  • When men good manners to it bring.
• • Of all these drinkers, one’s a sot,
  • Another shuns the liquor;
  • And so an overseer is got,—†
  • Perhaps a counter-checker!
  • And when the sots all order scorn,
  • And sober ones are blushing,
  • Then the refractory ones they warn
  • To cease their headlong rushing,
  • To say not things they should not say,
  • Nor tell uncalled-for tattle;
  • For “hornless rams* do they display
  • Who make such sottish prattle.”
  • If with three cups the wits be gone,
  • What if you venture on and on?

II. vii. 7.

SONG OF THE FEUDAL PRINCES AT A ROYAL FEAST IN HÂU.†

• • ’Tis there, ’tis there in the pond-weed now,
  • The fish with the head so fine.—
  • And here, and here is our king in Hâu,
  • Hale and hearty, sipping his wine.
• • ’Tis there, ’tis there in the pond-weed now,
  • The fish with the mighty tail.—
  • And here, and here is our king in Hâu,
  • O’er his wine-cups hearty and hale.
• • There, there is the fish in the pond-weed now,
  • In its screen of reeds confiding.—
  • And here, and here is our king in Hâu,
  • In comfort, in peace abiding.

II. vii. 8.

THE KING’S RESPONSE (TO THE FOREGOING).

• • Who gathers beans, who gathers beans,*
  • In paniers round or square will store them.
  • My lords come hither to my court;
  • What gifts have I to set before them?
  • Though there be nought (beside) to give,
  • State-carriages (there are) and teams.
  • Nought more? Yea, the dark dragon robes,
  • And checkered, as each rank beseems.
• • Where bubbling wells gush forth in rills
  • Cress-gatherers there will surely be.—
  • My lords come hither to my court:
  • Their dragon-flags afar I see.
  • And as they flutter in the breeze,
  • Low sounds of bells float through the air;
  • The off-steeds now—now all the four—
  • I see them—yea, my lords are there!
• • The scarlet aprons grace their knees,
  • The buskins have they on below.
  • No tardy gifts† are those they bring,
  • On me, the Heaven-born, to bestow.
  • Right welcome are my noble Chiefs!
  • Heaven’s Son shall do for them his will.
  • Right welcome are my noble Chiefs:
  • Their fortune shall be brighter still.
• • All o’er these branches of the oak,
  • What wealth of foliage is displayed!—
  • Right welcome are the noble Chiefs
  • On whom the Royal State is stayed.
  • Right welcome are my noble Chiefs;
  • May each unnumbered blessings see
  • Good men and true are those servants too,
  • Who led and followed them to me.
• • The willow boats drift up and down;
  • Safe moor them by the ropes and lines.—
  • Right welcome are my worthy Chiefs;
  • Heaven’s Son their excellence divines.
  • Right welcome are my worthy Chiefs;
  • Substantial shall their fortune be.
  • O restful time! Away dull care!
  • Since these have hither come to me.

II. vii. 9.

LIKE KING, LIKE PEOPLE.

• • Bows all daintily braced with horn,—
  • Such have a swift rebound.
  • Kin by marriage and kin so born
  • Sundered should ne’er be found.
• • Let but thine own be sundered so,
  • So will thy people’s be:
  • Since the example thou dost show,
  • All of them follow thee.
• • Here be brethren of noble mind,
  • Generous, ay to excess;
  • Others, that lack the noble mind,
  • Meet to their own distress.
• • Let bad men each other offend,
  • Obstinate all remain;
  • Placed in honour, they ne’er unbend.
  • Ruin is in their train!
• • Let the old horse be a colt again,
  • Nought of the morrow he thinks.
  • So with the feeding of well-fed men,
  • So with their deep-drawn drinks.
• • Teach not a monkey to climb a tree;
  • That were like soiling mire.
  • If in great men good manners be,
  • Smaller to such aspire.
• • Falls of snow, be deep as they may,
  • Melt at the sun’s warm glance.
  • Who will not put the (vile) away
  • Sees but their pride advance.
• • Ay, let snow fall thick as it can,
  • Yet with the sun ’twill go.
  • Now are we like the Mâu or the Mân:*
  • This is what grieves me so.

II. vii. 10.

BEWARE THE DISCONTENTED ANGRY KING!

• • ’Neath the luxuriant willows†
  • Would ye not lie?
  • With the great deity‡ rampant,
  • Go ye not nigh!
  • Were it for me to appease him,
  • Sorely my powers ’twould try.
• • ’Neath the luxuriant willows
  • Would ye not rest?
  • With the great deity rampant,
  • Bide undistressed!
  • Were it for me to appease him,
  • Sore were I harassed and pressed.
• • There go the birds, high soaring;
  • Skyward they speed.
  • But this man’s soul’s ambition,—
  • Where will it lead?
  • Why should I seek to appease him?
  • Danger and trouble ’twould breed.

BOOK VIII.

II. viii. 1.

CHANGED TIMES. THE HEART GOES BACK TO THE OLD CAPITAL.*

• • O the gentry of the mother city,
  • In their tawny tawny fox-furs decked!
  • Theirs were manners that were aye unchanging,
  • Theirs was speech well-measured and correct.
  • Back to Chow, then!
  • There would all the world the like expect.
• • O the gentry of the mother city,
  • In the splint hats, and black coifs (of yore)!
  • O the high-born, honourable ladies,
  • Who the loose† or braided tresses wore!
  • These I see not,
  • And no satisfaction have I more.
• • O the gentry of the mother city,—
  • Plugs of gems adorning every ear.
  • O the high-born, honourable ladies,—
  • Each a Yin or Kih* might well appear.
  • These I see not;
  • And my heart is wrung with sorrow here.
• • O the gentry of the mother city,
  • With the cinctures dangling o’er their thighs!
  • O the high-born, honourable ladies,
  • With the tresses curling scorpion-wise!
  • These I see not:—
  • Far I’d go to feast thereon these eyes!†
• • Not that those themselves would dangle cinctures:
  • ’Twas that full ones were the fashion there.
  • Not that these again would curl their tresses:
  • ’Twas the rule to so adorn‡ the hair.
  • This I see not.
  • O to gaze thereon again—but where?

II. viii. 2.

THE ABSENT HUSBAND.

• • I’ve gathered king-grass all the morn,
  • And not two handfuls won!
  • I will go home and wash my hair,
  • For, O, ’tis all undone.
• • I’ve gathered blue-leaf§ all the morn,
  • And scarce one skirtful got!
  • Five days are past—the time he named,—
  • Six,—yet I see him not.
• • Whene’er my husband goes to hunt,
  • I put him up his bow.
  • And so I trim his line whene’er
  • A-fishing he will go.
• • And fishing, what comes to his hook?
  • Bream, aye and tench likewise:—
  • Of bream and tench a noble dish
  • Whereon to feast your eyes!*

II. viii. 3.

SONG OF THE TROOPS AFTER SHAU’S EXPEDITION TO SIE.†

(bc 823.)

• • Tall, tall the tender millet grows,
  • When genial showers have fed it.
  • Far, far to southward was our march,
  • Cheered by Shau’s earl who led it.
• • We bore our packs, we wheeled our loads,
  • Drove cars, or cattle tended.
  • O soon should we be home again,
  • Our expedition ended.
• • We marched, we rode in waggons then,
  • A host of us, a legion.
  • O soon should we, the journey o’er,
  • Regain our native region.
• • Imposing was the work at Sié;
  • Shau’s earl its walls erected.
  • And glorious was the army’s march;
  • Shau’s earl that march directed.
• • Lands high and low were ordered well,
  • And rills and brooks ran brightly;*
  • And when Shau’s earl had ended all,
  • His Sovereign’s heart beat lightly.

II. viii. 4.

A HAPPY MEETING.†

• • Fine are the marshland mulberry-trees,—
  • With foliage full and fair.—
  • Now that I see my noble lord,
  • My pleasure how compare?
• • Fine are the marshland mulberry-trees,—
  • With glossy foliage bright.—
  • Now that I see my noble lord,
  • How fail to feel delight?
• • Fine are the marshland mulberry-trees,—
  • Their leaves dark shadows cast.—
  • My lord I see, whose virtuous fame
  • Cleaves to him firm and fast.
• • My heart, what love thou hast for him!
  • Why leave the tale untold?
  • Yea, deeply there thou treasur’st it,
  • Nor e’er wilt quit thy hold.*

II. viii. 5.

LAMENT OF A REJECTED QUEEN-CONSORT.†

• • O the white-flowering rushes,
  • Bound round with the white reeds!—
  • Upon my lord’s estrangement
  • My solitude succeeds.
• • And bright white fleecy vapours
  • Both reed and rush bedew.—
  • Heaven’s ways are hard and stubborn:
  • My lord holds none in view.
• • Rills from the pools run northward
  • The rice-fields to submerge.—
  • I, mindful of yon great one,
  • Wail my despairing dirge.
• • I gather mulberry branches
  • To heat my little stove.
  • It was the great one yonder
  • Me to such hardship drove.
• • Here out beyond the palace
  • I hear the minstrelsie.*
  • I think of him in sorrow;
  • Unmoved he looks on me.
• • Stands on the weir the buzzard,†
  • Sits in the wood the crane!
  • Ay, ’tis the great one yonder
  • Is cause of all my pain.
• • The teal, their left wings folding,
  • In pairs are on the weir.—
  • My lord hath no more conscience,
  • So do his humours veer.
• • That stone is but a low one;‡
  • Who steps thereon stands low!—
  • Oh that my lord’s estrangement
  • Should plunge me in this woe!

II. viii. 6.

UNSOLDIERLIKE COMPLAINTS.*

• • Hear the orioles in chorus,
  • Halting† on the hillock’s brow;—
  • “Dreary‡ is the way before us;
  • Weary are we—how say how?
  • Give us drink, give food to feed us,
  • In our duty teach and lead us;
  • Call the drivers§ there behind us,
  • Bid them waggon-room to find us.”
• • Hear the orioles in chorus,
  • Halting there where turns the hill:—
  • “Not the march we dread before us,
  • ’Tis the pace, we fear, may kill.∥
  • Give us drink, give food to feed us,
  • In our duty teach and lead us;
  • Call the drivers there behind us,
  • Bid them waggon-room to find us.”
• • Hear the orioles in chorus,
  • Halting on the hillock’s side:—
  • “Not the march we dread before us,
  • ’Tis the goal we fear denied.
  • Give us drink, give food to feed us,
  • In our duty teach and lead us;
  • Call the drivers there behind us,
  • Bid them waggon-room to find us.”

II. viii. 7.

DRINKING-SONG.*

• • Waving gourd-leaves cuts he there,
  • Boils them, (will not waste them)!
  • Yet our host has drinks to spare;
  • See him pour, and taste them.
• • One poor rabbit all the fare,—
  • Roast they it, or bake it!
  • Yet our host has wine to spare;
  • Fills, and bids us take it.
• • One poor rabbit all the fare,—
  • Broil they him, or roast him!
  • Yet our host has wine to spare;
  • Fill we up, and toast him!
• • One poor rabbit all the fare,—
  • Broil they him, or grill him!
  • Yet our host has wine to spare;
  • Each for other fill him!

II. viii. 8.

TOILSOME MARCHES.*

• • O rugged, rugged are the rocks,
  • With lofty crest.
  • Far, far o’er hill and stream we go,
  • And sore are pressed.
  • A soldier, marching Eastward, ne’er
  • A morn may rest.
• • O rugged, rugged are the rocks,
  • With towering top.
  • Far, far o’er hill and stream we go;
  • When, when to stop?
  • Troops, marching East, from out the ranks
  • May never drop.
• • Oft wading now,† the feet of swine
  • Are white again.
  • The moon, too, in the Hyades,‡
  • Means heavier rain.—
  • Troops, marching East, aught else than that
  • Will seek in vain.

II. viii. 9.

BAD TIMES.§

• • Ah, how the trumpet-flowers
  • All saffron-tinted grow!
  • O, saddened hearts are ours,
  • Beneath this bitter blow.
• • Now, for the trumpet-flowers
  • But green green leaves we see!
  • Than live a life like ours
  • ’Twere better not to be.
• • With sheep scarce aught but head,
  • With star-reflecting creels,*
  • Some manage to be fed,
  • Yet few have proper† meals.

II. viii. 10.

THE SOLDIER’S HARDSHIPS.‡

• • What plant is now not sallow?
  • What day its march can spare?
  • What mortal but must toil and moil
  • Here, there, and everywhere?
• • What plant is now not sombre?
  • What mortal undistraught?
  • Poor troopers, we alone of men
  • Are less than human thought.
• • Not unicorns, not tigers,
  • Why haunt we the wild waste?
  • Poor troopers, night nor morn can we
  • The sweets of leisure taste.
• • Leave to the long-tailed foxes
  • To haunt the sombre grass.
  • Along the king’s highway should we
  • In our light waggons pass.

[* ]The pipes had metal tongues; hence the whole instrument is sometimes called an organ.

[† ]“Chow hang,” the way of Chow, is taken also to mean the Perfect Way.

[* ]Said to have been sung at Court on the return of great officials from abroad. The words, though seemingly those of such an official himself, were really used by others, by way of complimenting him on his diligence, combined with his sense of filial duty.

[* ]See Note to last Ode. This seems to have been written for a similar purpose. But the variations in each stanza after the first would suggest that only one of these was used, viz., the one adapted to the particular case.

Probably a hint is intended throughout that such officers shoula be zealous and prudent in the execution of their duty; and the pleasantness of travel is suggested by the opening lines of v. 1.

[* ]Sung at feasts given by the King to those of his own clan or surname. Clansmen might perhaps be substituted for brothers throughout.

[* ]“Father’s kin” and “mother’s kin” in this stanza should properly be paternal and maternal uncles respectively; but even these terms would not quite convey the meaning. By the first are meant those nobles who bore the same surname as the speaker; by the second those who belonged to other clans.

[* ]The HÎn-yun (probably the Huns, as is thought) were wild tribes on the North.

[† ]So, according to the pictures illustrating the Urh-ya. The mention of the fern at three different stages of its growth points to the lapse of time. At its first sprouting the fern was edible.

[‡ ]They were no longer able to send home messages of inquiry.

[* ]Lit., guarded.

[* ]With special reference to the leader Nan-Chung, and to the charioteers, whose song it appears to be.

[† ]Lit., the Son of Heaven.

[‡ ]Flags bearing pictures of tortoises and serpents.

[§ ]The oxtail-pennons, as in I. iv. 9.

[∥ ]The tortoise and serpent flag, and the falcon-flag.

[¶ ]Dragon-flag, and tortoise and serpent flag.

[* ]Were flowering.

[† ]Lit., “we stood in awe of those bamboo tablets”: the King’s orders were evidently written on these.

[‡ ]The wives at home are supposed to be speaking here. Six of the lines are quoted from a previous song. See I. ii. 3.

[§ ]Another wild tribe far to the West.

[∥ ]Southernwood.

[¶ ]For the “question,” or torture. These would be the chiefs of the tribes.

[* ]The fruit would be ripe in the tenth month.

[† ]Properly, the sun and moon are in the tenth month.

[‡ ]Cars of sandal-wood.

[* ]Lit., divining by the tortoise-shell (scorched) and the milfoil, or straws.

[* ]I take liu rather as an adjective than a verb—“fine,” “elegant,” &c.

[† ]Some of the fish here named are not quite the same as in the original, but as everything there seems sacrificed for the sake of rhyme so here. It will also be observed that the adjectives, &c., describing the wine are all again applied in the same order to the other portions of the feast.

[* ]The two words signifying good fish are also a name given to the barbel. I retain the former meaning because of the apposition intended with “good guests.”

[† ]The piece, being complimentary to both host and guests, was probably sung by the musicians and taken as coming from them.

[* ]The trees in this piece are not all identified; nor is it at all clear what their mention is intended to suggest.

[* ]Probably the dew is to represent the princes, and the plant the king.

[* ]“Wo,” bells in front of the carriage; “lwan,” bells at the horses’ bits.

[† ]In the sense of “when they have well drunk.”

[‡ ]There seems to have been a custom of drinking the last cup in the king’s private apartment.

[§ ]Two trees are mentioned in the text, thought to be the Paulownia Imperialis, and a hardwood tree like the Brazilian kingwood.

[* ]Given by the king to princes of extraordinary merit. Vermilion was the colour of rank and merit affected by the House of Chow, and the presentation of a vermilion bow was the highest mark of favour a prince could receive.

[† ]Lit., I received.

[‡ ]Lit., bell.

[* ]Supposed originally to be expressive of joy because of the king’s encouragement of education and talent. When the Ruler does this, says the Preface, “then all under Heaven rejoice and are glad thereat.” Probably the Ode commemorates a royal visit to some school.

[† ]The aster-southernwood. It has a broad chrysanthemumshaped flower.

[‡ ]Or, “rejoice, and show fitting demeanour.”

[§ ]Lit., he gives us 100 sets of cowries.

[∥ ]The boat on troubled waters represents the condition of those who had not felt the benign influence of the king.

[* ]This and the next thirteen pieces belong to the time of the reign of King Swân (bc 826-781).

[† ]Lit., 30 li. About equal to 11 English miles.

[* ]Some celebrity of the time, but not known in history.

[* ]bc 825. The Mân-King were wild tribes in the South, of whom more hereafter.

[† ]There is a difficulty as to the meaning of the opening lines, and as to who are the speakers. I take the language as being that of some country-people who witnessed the passing by of the army, and foraged for horses and men. The word translated “forage” above is the name of some edible herb. Dr. Legge translates “white millet.”

[‡ ]Lit., metal hooks and breast (trappings—for the horses). All these, including the car itself, were the gift of the king.

[§ ]Bound round with red leather.

[∥ ]An ornamental yoke.

[* ]Lit., Mân-King.

[† ]Seized those who should be “questioned” (Cf. II. i. 8).

[* ]Lit., the beasts, game.

[† ]A ring protected the right thumb in drawing the string of the bow; and on the left hand and wrist was a glove guarding these against the arrows in shooting.

[* ]Lit., “the Great Larder is not full.” The king shared the game with all who took a proper part in the chase.

[† ]Lit., the mau day,—the 5th of the cycle, or, as Dr. Legge thinks, the mau-shin, a combination of two numbers of the cycle, both being fives. Odd numbers in dates are still considered lucky in China.

[‡ ]Of the Ruler of horses.

[§ ]Kăng-wu, the 7th day of the cycle.

[* ]A contrast between the reigns of King Li and King Swân, as affecting the condition of the people. Dr. Legge is here evidently for once at fault, and might well say, from his point of view, that “the whole piece is perplexing and obscure.” Victor von Strauss has followed him, but being more literal in his rendering, approaches the true interpretation.

[* ]King Swân.

[† ]The former king, Li. Perhaps the expression is a little too strong; the word in the original signifies the opposite of “wise and prudent,”—ignorant, rude, stupid.

[‡ ]Lit., the Court-torch,—a large bundle of faggots kept burning nightly in the Court-yard.

[§ ]Lit., has blazed; here, has done blazing.

[* ]Attends the Court of the Sea—visits its king.

[† ]An appeal to the sense of filial piety, a supreme duty with the Chinese. Fathers and mothers were involved in these troubles.

[‡ ]Chu-Hi is of opinion that two lines here have been lost.

[* ]Lit., ninth pool, i.e. furthest away.

[† ]Lit., pleasant.

[‡ ]Lit., paper-mulberry-shrub,—an unwelcome growth.

[* ]They were sent, contrary to custom, in the year 788 bc, to assist the regular army at the northern frontier, the latter having sustained a severe defeat at the hands of the barbarous tribes.

[† ]Commander of troops in the Royal Domain, who was also Minister of War.

[‡ ]This may appear a childish plea; but not so to the Chinese. It was usual for only sons to be exempted from military service abroad, so that aged parents should not be left unassisted; and doubtless there were some of these amongst the complainants.

[* ]The writer seeks in vain to detain some officer whom he admires, and to dissuade him against his purpose of retirement from public service. The officer, disgusted with the state of public affairs, meditates leading a hermit-life.

[† ]Lit., like a gem.

[* ]The birds are appealed to, only as leading up to the greater hindrances put in their way by the inhabitants.

[† ]The paper-mulberry-tree is specified.

[‡ ]Properly a small species of oak. Variation merely for rhyme.

[§ ]Panicled millet.

[∥ ]Lit., paternal uncles, or relatives on the father’s side.

[* ]Since thou didst not provide me with the necessaries of life.

[† ]Said to have been built on the accession of King Swân, about 825 bc

[* ]For the adobe walls.

[† ]This verse, exceedingly terse in the original, is intended to describe the architecture of this portion of the palace, its loftiness and dignity, the straight lines of the walls, and the curving roof with its ornamentation and colouring.

[* ]In these two concluding stanzas appears already in these early times the different estimates at which sons and daughters were valued.

[† ]Lit., without wrong, without right. Explained by Chu-Hi as being without desire to be distinguished for either good or evil, content to remain in the background.

[‡ ]i.e., belong to that particular breed alone.

[* ]King Yiu (780-770 bc) was son and successor of Swân, but reflected but few of his father’s virtues. The complaint is chiefly against his Chief Minister, who gave all the best appointments to his relatives by marriage; but the king is also thus censured indirectly.

[* ]Relatives by marriage.

[† ]Arose to the occasion, or, came up (to the standard).

[* ]These two lines may refer to the king or to his minister. I leave them thus as expressing a general truth.

[† ]Lit., probing, searching into.

[‡ ]Lit., of the king.

[§ ]Describing the worst period of King Yiu’s reign.

[∥ ]Lit., after my day.

[* ]The meaning is, that good men knew with no greater certainty where to go for employment than one can tell where a crow will settle.

[† ]This important line (i shwuy yun tsăng) is a little obscure, but this is the received interpretation.

[‡ ]Satire. No one knows who is the real ruler—the king, or Pau-sze his favourite concubine. The latter was the true cause of all the evils: see verse 8. The king owed his own death to his infatuation with her.

[* ]Lit., spokes.

[† ]The king’s favourites.

[* ]Lit., in the tenth month’s conjunction (i.e., of sun and moon). The date is fixed with precision by these first two lines. It has been calculated that an eclipse of the sun took place on the 29th August, bc 775, in the sixth year of King Yiu’s reign. The tenth month is that of the Chow Calendar, Dr. Legge assures us, which would correspond to our August; and he adds that this “is the earliest date in Chinese history about which there can be no dispute.”

[† ]Lit., the “1st day, sin-mâu.” Sin-mâu is the 28th day of the sixty days’ cycle.

[‡ ]Lit., is good.

[* ]This was Pau-sze, referred to in last Ode. She had been elevated to the dignity of queen the year before this. The names given above are those of her creatures.

[† ]The poet here speaks in the name of the peasantry, who were required to remove with this official to his new city of Hiang: see next verse.

[‡ ]Lit., those who possess horses and carriages.

[* ]I have translated li as in III. iii. 4, v. 7.

[* ]The three chief ministers.

[† ]Are unwilling to appear at Court.

[‡ ]Lit., disbelieve, or disregard, justest words.

[§ ]Satirical.

[* ]This stanza is probably addressed to those officers and others referred to in the previous Ode as following Hwang-fu to Hiang.

[* ]Lit., diffuses over.

[† ]Lit., all-perverse.

[* ]i.e., incur or take upon himself any responsibility.

[† ]Lit., only the last word do they hearken to (or follow).

[* ]Those of the two parents.

[† ]The bearing of these opening lines upon what follows is not sufficiently obvious. But see next note.

[‡ ]The young of the mulberry-insect was, according to popular belief, stolen by the sphex, or solitary wasp, carried off to its hole, and trained up as a wasp! Perhaps we are to understand that the wild beans were in this way sought by the people in order that they might be domesticated and brought to perfection.

[§ ]Learn, i.e., from it how to be energetic and active. Few birds sing on the wing.

[* ]These are birds that feed usually on the fat of meat; in these straitened times they were struggling for existence like the people, and eating what they could get.

[† ]This prince was Yi-k‘iu, the son of King Yiu. He was heir to the throne; but on Pau-sze becoming the king’s favourite the young prince was banished, his mother degraded, and a son of Pau-sze named as successor to the throne.

[* ]Sleep without undressing, or unreal sleep.

[† ]Two kinds of trees are specified, the mulberry-tree and another, which, from being planted round the homestead and sheltering the house like father and mother, have become the symbolical expression for “home.”

[* ]A pledge-cup.

[† ]Evidently these two lines allude to the difficulty of approach to the king; yet there were those who did manage to get near him, and it behoved him to be careful in his speech.

[‡ ]These last four lines are quoted from I. iii. 10, and are used here figuratively.

[* ]Alluding, evidently, to compacts or leagues which the king had made with inferior princes, putting himself thereby on an equal footing with them.

[† ]Lit., made it.

[* ]“Organ-tongue-like.”

[† ]The writer is said to have been a duke of Su, who had been much maligned by a duke of Pâu. Through the slanders uttered against him by Pâu, an old friend was deserting him, and attaching himself to the slanderer. The friend comes into the neighbourhood of the writer’s dwelling, but hesitates to visit him.

[* ]See III. ii. 10, stanza 6.

[† ]The three victims were a dog, a pig, and a fowl. By the mingling of the blood of these animals it was the ancient custom to ratify bonds or agreements.

[‡ ]“I have made this goodly song to follow thee to the utmost through thy twistings and turnings.”

[§ ]The “Southern Sieve” is a Chinese constellation of four stars, two of which are near each other, and are called “The Heels,” and two wide apart, called “The Mouth.”

[* ]The meaning would seem to be that though the persons aimed at were in high places, and the writer in a lowly one, yet there was a way by which he could reach them, viz., by this song.

[* ]This plant and the “wormwood” of the second stanza are in the original names of other species of southernwood, evidently inferior in value, and the grown-up son sees in them, on second thoughts, some resemblance to himself.

[* ]The smaller vessel which supplies the larger; as the son should provide for the parent.

[* ]The writer seems to have been an official in the East during the time of King Yiu.

[† ]Lit., in the Lesser East or Greater East, referring to the States.

[‡ ]Lit., are empty.

[* ]The Ode from this point is full of satire, even against the supposed powers in the sky.

[† ]Three stars in Lyra. The “seven stages” are seven out of the twelve of two hours each into which a day was divided. On the constellation rising it would be in the seventh.

[‡ ]The “Draught Oxen” are a Chinese constellation in the upper part of Aquila.

[§ ]The Hyades.

[* ]See on Ode 6, verse 2, p. 230.

[† ]A constellation in Sagittarius.

[‡ ]So, literally, but in Ode 6 it is called the Mouth.

[§ ]The spirits of ancestors were supposed to be capable of assisting men in trouble.

[∥ ]The line is rather obscure: “Degenerating, becoming despoilers”; but being evidently in apposition to the first line it will bear this rendering.

[* ]What is here meant is doubtful; some think the lines express a contrast between the writer’s circumstances and the hills and vales in nature, each of which had its appropriate growths; others suppose that he was now thinking of retiring to lead the life of a recluse, and would look for his sustenance in growths like these.

[* ]The king’s chief ministers.

[† ]Lit., plan and labour (must I) everywhere.

[* ]See III. iii. 10, v. 1, and III. iii. 11, v. 1.

[† ]So fang-ch‘ü, may, I think, be interpreted in modern language.

[* ]The next two stanzas explain this expression.

[† ]The Ode is referred to the time of King Yiu, though with some uncertainty. The royal barge is on the river Hwai, and the king is entertained with music;—this at a time when the country was in great disorder and unsettlement. The poet laments that he has not the virtue of former sovereigns.

[* ]These are names for (it is thought) some early collection of songs, afterwards incorporated in the Shi King. The Ya is the name still of the Second and Third Parts of the Shi; and the Nan comprises the first two books of Part I.

[* ]This line is explained in the Chinese commentaries as referring to the victims given to the Representors or Personators of the dead. See III. ii. 4.

[† ]I take kiéh as if combined with toh, to adjust, to bind.

[‡ ]Lit., to the autumn and winter sacrifices.

[§ ]“By the gate,” as if to welcome the approach of the Spirits.

[∥ ]The spirits of ancestors.

[¶ ]Lit., “Spirit-guardians.” Chu-Hi thinks this refers to the Personators of the dead.

[** ]“Sons” and “son” throughout the piece are a free translation of sun, a descendant.

[* ]Lit., crosswise and diagonally, perhaps simply our “all round” (Legge).

[† ]The “Spirit-guardians,”—see note on p. 243.

[‡ ]I think this is the meaning of ju ki ju shih, as many, &c., as thy rites and offerings.

[§ ]The Personators of the Dead.

[∥ ]Each Spirit-guardian returns (to his place).

[* ](May thy) sons’ sons (and) grandsons’ grandsons, &c.

[† ]This may refer to the king; literally, the words mean the great-grandson, or remote descendant.

[* ]Small bells were attached to the handle of the knife, and tinkled during the performance.

[† ]See the Book of Rites. The hair of the victim must first be proved to be of the right colour.

[* ]There is a difference of opinion about shih ts‘ien; it would seem to refer to the tenths levied for the king.

[† ]Root-dressing, banking up with earth.

[‡ ]The meaning is, sacrifice to the Spirits of the Earth, and to the four quarters of the sky.

[§ ]A title of Shin-Nung, the Father of Husbandry.

[* ]Compare Deuteronomy, xxiv. 19-22.

[† ]The “he” refers to the personage of the first line.

[‡ ]The red bull was offered to the Spirits of the South; the black one to those of the North.

[* ]The six armies of the Royal Domain, each consisting of 12,500 men.

[* ]Lit., blessings.

[* ]The allusive lines are a little obscure, but probably refer to the speakers themselves thus caught and entertained, as also their horses.

[† ]“Health,” “wealth,” and “blessing,” are renderings of the indefinite fuh luh so often met with together in the Odes.

[* ]This “green fly” is said to be an insect which befouls everything it touches, and is therefore an appropriate emblem of the slanderer.

[† ]Said to have been written by Duke Wu of Wei, who had once himself been addicted to intemperate drinking, but now condemned the habit. The Ode may be divided into two parts, the first consisting of stanzas 1 and 2, which describe the temperate use of wine at feasts, joined with archery contests, and at sacrifices; the second consisting of stanzas 3, 4, and 5, which give the contrast on ordinary occasions.

[* ]The defeated ones had to drink this cup.

[† ]The chief guest. Dr. Legge explains:—“At this point he presented a cup to the representative of the ancestor, and received one from him. He then proceeded to take some more spirits from one of the vases of supply, and the attendant came in and filled another cup, which was also presented to the representative of the dead. This was called the ‘cup of repose or comfort.’ ”

[* ]Lit., “both (i.e., host and guest) would receive a boon from it.”

[† ]An official like the Roman “arbiter bibendi.”

[* ]i.e., impossible things, self-contradictions.

[† ]Hâu was King Wu’s capital. See III. i. 10.

[* ]The introductory allusions are difficult.

[† ]I translate kiâu () as in kiâu tsai () “gifts of princes to secure friendship”; then ü () in the next line retains its natural meaning.

[* ]Wild tribes in the West and South.

[† ]Emblem, evidently, of what a sovereign should be,—the shelter of his people.

[‡ ]Shang Ti. The sacred name of the Supreme God is here used in irony. Cf. Psalm lxxxii. 6.

[* ]No date is assigned to the piece; but Dr. Legge is of opinion that it is to be “referred to the period soon after the removal of the capital to Loh, when things were all in disorder at the new seat of government.” We may therefore place it about 760 bc New manners and fashions were there disturbing men of conservative minds.

[† ]Lit., straight.

[* ]Surnames of two noble families.

[† ]Lit., I would go far in quest of such.

[‡ ]ü () is a flag with falcons emblazoned on it; but seems here simply to denote the figures made in adorning the hair.

[§ ]The plants king-grass (or lit. “green-leaf”) and blue-leaf were plants yielding dyes. I conclude from a note in the China Review, vol. ix. pp. 248-9, that the latter, lan, is the lan yeh, or blue-leaf, as in the translation.

[* ]These concluding lines are not clear to any translator, and I give the above rendering of them as the most probable, in my opinion.

[† ]This expedition had for its object the building and fortifying of a city, and the reclamation of the adjoining lands, in order to keep off the wild tribes of the border. See III. iii. 5 for an account of this.

[* ]Were cleared.

[† ]There is nothing in the piece to show who or what the parties were. The keun tsze () is always more or less indefinite, and whether it is singular or plural is often left to the imagination. So here; nor is it known who is speaking. It may be the king to his princes, or vice versâ; or a wife to her husband returning from abroad.

[* ]Lit., what day forget it?

[† ]King Yiu () put away his queen, and replaced her by his concubine Pâu-sze. Probably Pâu-sze is the “great one” shih jan) alluded to in verses 3, 4, and 6. Some of the allusive lines are difficult to understand. Dr. Legge, in his metrical version, expands each verse to eight lines, in trying to bring out their meaning.

[* ]Lit., “the sound of drums and bells within the palace is heard (or, I hear) outside it.”

[† ]The allusion is here evident enough. The birds have changed places; so have the queen and Pâu-sze.

[‡ ]The “stone” is supposed to be Pâu-sze!

[* ]Some underlings complain of their hardships during an expedition. The poet puts their words into the mouth of small birds halting in their flight, incongruous though the sentiments may seem as uttered by the birds.

[† ]Much is made of this word (chi) by Confucius in his “Great Learning;” and, as an illustration of his teaching in that place, a meaning seems to be forced upon it which it will not bear.

[‡ ]Lit., far, long.

[§ ]I take kiu as standing for kiu che.

[∥ ]Lit., “we fear inability to go rapidly.” So also in the third stanza, “we fear we may not reach the end.”

[* ]A great deal of meaning is tersely expressed here. The host was poor and frugal, yet would not curtail the usual ceremonies of a feast. It was the rule as indicated in the several verses:—

• (1). For the host to taste the wines to prove them;
• (2). To fill and present to the guests;
• (3). For the guests to fill and drink to him; and
• (4). For the host and guests to fill and pledge each other.

[* ]Song of troops on some expedition to the East. From the allusion to the rains the expedition may be supposed to be the same as that of I. xv. 3.

[† ]i.e., owing to the continual rains.

[‡ ]This curiously coincides with the Greek notion.

[§ ]The trumpet-flowers, growing yellow with age, and afterwards falling, represent the decay of a season of prosperity.

[* ]A picture of famine. Lit., “the ewes have abnormal heads; the ‘Three Stars’ are in the creels;” i.e., nought else is found in them.

[† ]Full.

[‡ ]Said to refer to the time when the House of Chow was falling. The marches were incessant, through summer (v. 1), and autumn (v. 2), and no regard was had to the miseries of the troops.