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Front Page  Titles (by Subject) BOOK V. - The Shi King, the Old Poetry Classic of the Chinese
BOOK V. - Misc (Confucian School), The Shi King, the Old “Poetry Classic” of the Chinese [1891]Edition used:The Shi King, the Old “Poetry Classic” of the Chinese. A Close Metrical Translation, with Annotations by William Jennings (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1891).
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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!
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