A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems Part 2

1. H. A. Giles, "Chinese Poetry in English Verse." 1896. 212 pp.

Combines rhyme and literalness with wonderful dexterity.

2. Hervey St. Denys, "Poesies des Thang." 1862. 301 pp. The choice of poems would have been very different if the author had selected from the whole range of T'ang poetry, instead of contenting himself, except in the case of Li Po and Tu Fu, with making extracts from two late anthologies. This book, the work of a great scholar, is reliable--except in its information about Chinese prosody.

3. Judith Gautier, "Le Livre de Jade." 1867 and 1908. It has been difficult to compare these renderings with the original, for proper names are throughout distorted or interchanged. For example, part of a poem by Po Chu-i _about_ Yang T'ai-chen is here given as a complete poem and ascribed to "Yan-Ta-Tchen" as author. The poet Han Yu figures as Heu-Yu; T'ao Han as Sao Nan, etc. Such mistakes are evidently due to faulty decipherment of someone else's writing. Nevertheless, the book is far more readable than that of St. Denys, and shows a wider acquaintance with Chinese poetry on the part of whoever chose the poems. Most of the credit for this selection must certainly be given to Ting Tun-ling, the _literatus_ whom Theophile Gautier befriended. But the credit for the beauty of these often erroneous renderings must go to Mademoiselle Gautier herself.

4. Anna von Bernhardi, in "Mitteil d. Seminar f. Orient. Sprachen,"

1912, 1915, and 1916. Two articles on T'ao Ch'ien and one on Li Po. All valuable, though not free from mistakes.

5. Zottoli, "Cursus Litteraturae Sinicae." 1886. Chinese text with Latin translation. Vol. V deals with poetry. None of the poems is earlier than T'ang. The Latin is seldom intelligible without reference to the Chinese. Translators have obviously used Zottoli as a text. Out of eighteen Sung poems in Giles's book, sixteen will be found in Zottoli.

6. A. Pfizmaier, two articles (1886 and 1887) on Po Chu-i in "Denkschr.

d. Kais. Ak. in Wien." So full of mistakes as to be of very little value, except in so far as they served to call the attention of the European reader to this poet.

7. L. Woitsch, "Aus den Gedichten Po Chu-i's." 1908. 76 pp. A prose rendering with Chinese text of about forty poems, not very well selected. The translations, though inaccurate, are a great advance on Pfizmaier.

8. E. von Zachs, "Lexicographische Beitrage." Vols. ii and iv.

Re-translation of two poems previously mistranslated by Pfizmaier.

9. S. Imbault-Huart, "La Poesie Chinoise du 14 au 19 siecle." 1886. 93 pp.

10. S. Imbault-Huart, "Un Poete Chinois du 18 Siecle." (Yuan Mei.) Journ. of China Branch, Royal As. Soc., N.S., vol. xix, part 2, 42 pp.

11. S. Imbault-Huart, "Poesies Modernes." 1892. 46 pp.

12. A. Forke, "Bluthen Chinesischer Dichtung." 1899. Rhymed versions of Li Po and pre-T'ang poems.

A fuller bibliography will be found in Cordier's "Bibliotheca Sinica."

CHAPTER I

BATTLE

By Ch'u Yuan (332-295 B.C.), author of the famous poem "Li Sao," or "Falling into Trouble." Finding that he could not influence the conduct of his prince, he drowned himself in the river Mi-lo. The modern Dragon Boat Festival is supposed to be in his honour.

"We grasp our battle-spears: we don our breast-plates of hide.

The axles of our chariots touch: our short swords meet.

Standards obscure the sun: the foe roll up like clouds.

Arrows fall thick: the warriors press forward.

They menace our ranks: they break our line.

The left-hand trace-horse is dead: the one on the right is smitten.

The fallen horses block our wheels: they impede the yoke-horses!"

They grasp their jade drum-sticks: they beat the sounding drums.

Heaven decrees their fall: the dread Powers are angry.

The warriors are all dead: they lie on the moor-field.

They issued but shall not enter: they went but shall not return.

The plains are flat and wide: the way home is long.

Their swords lie beside them: their black bows, in their hand.

Though their limbs were torn, their hearts could not be repressed.

They were more than brave: they were inspired with the spirit of "Wu."[2]

Steadfast to the end, they could not be daunted.

Their bodies were stricken, but their souls have taken Immortality-- Captains among the ghosts, heroes among the dead.

[2] _I.e._, military genius.

THE MAN-WIND AND THE WOMAN-WIND

A "fu," or prose-poem, by Sung Yu (fourth century B.C.), nephew of Ch'u Yuan.

Hsiang, king of Ch'u, was feasting in the Orchid-tower Palace, with Sung Yu and Ching Ch'ai to wait upon him. A gust of wind blew in and the king bared his breast to meet it, saying: "How pleasant a thing is this wind which I share with the common people." Sung Yu answered: "This is the Great King's wind. The common people cannot share it." The king said: "Wind is a spirit of Heaven and Earth. It comes wide spread and does not choose between n.o.ble and base or between high and low. How can you say 'This is the king's wind'?" Sung answered: "I have heard it taught that in the crooked lemon-tree birds make their nests and to empty s.p.a.ces winds fly. But the wind-spirit that comes to different things is not the same." The king said: "Where is the wind born?" and Sung answered: "The wind is born in the ground. It rises in the extremities of the green p'ing-flower. It pours into the river-valleys and rages at the mouth of the pa.s.s. It follows the rolling flanks of Mount T'ai and dances beneath the pine-trees and cypresses. In gusty bouts it whirls. It rushes in fiery anger. It rumbles low with a noise like thunder, tearing down rocks and trees, smiting forests and gra.s.ses.

"But at last abating, it spreads abroad, seeks empty places and crosses the threshold of rooms. And so growing gentler and clearer, it changes and is dispersed and dies.

"It is this cool clear Man-Wind that, freeing itself, falls and rises till it climbs the high walls of the Castle and enters the gardens of the Inner Palace. It bends the flowers and leaves with its breath. It wanders among the osmanthus and pepper-trees. It lingers over the fretted face of the pond, to steal the soul of the hibiscus. It touches the willow leaves and scatters the fragrant herbs. Then it pauses in the courtyard and turning to the North goes up to the Jade Hall, shakes the hanging curtains and lightly pa.s.ses into the inner room.

"And so it becomes the Great King's wind.

"Now such a wind is fresh and sweet to breathe and its gentle murmuring cures the diseases of men, blows away the stupor of wine, sharpens sight and hearing and refreshes the body. This is what is called the Great King's wind."

The king said: "You have well described it. Now tell me of the common people's wind." Sung said: "The common people's wind rises from narrow lanes and streets, carrying clouds of dust. Rus.h.i.+ng to empty s.p.a.ces it attacks the gateway, scatters the dust-heap, sends the cinders flying, pokes among foul and rotting things, till at last it enters the tiled windows and reaches the rooms of the cottage. Now this wind is heavy and turgid, oppressing man's heart. It brings fever to his body, ulcers to his lips and dimness to his eyes. It shakes him with coughing; it kills him before his time.

"Such is the Woman-wind of the common people."

The following is a sample of Sung Yu's prose:

MASTER TENG-T'U

By Sung Yu (third century B.C.)

One day when the Chamberlain, master Teng-t'u, was in attendance at the Palace he warned the King against Sung Yu, saying: "Yu is a man of handsome features and calm bearing and his tongue is prompt with subtle sentences. Moreover, his character is licentious. I would submit that your Majesty is ill-advised in allowing him to follow you into the Queen's apartments." The King repeated Teng-t'u's words to Sung Yu. Yu replied: "My beauty of face and calmness of bearing were given me by Heaven. Subtlety of speech I learnt from my teachers. As for my character, I deny that it is licentious." The King said: "Can you substantiate your statement that you are not licentious? If you cannot, you must leave the Court." Sung Yu said: "Of all the women in the world, the most beautiful are the women of the land of Ch'u. And in all the land of Ch'u there are none like the women of my own village. And in my village there are none that can be compared with the girl next door.

"The girl next door would be too tall if an inch were added to her height, and too short if an inch were taken away. Another grain of powder would make her too pale; another touch of rouge would make her too red. Her eyebrows are like the plumage of the kingfisher, her flesh is like snow. Her waist is like a roll of new silk, her teeth are like little sh.e.l.ls. A single one of her smiles would perturb the whole city of Yang and derange the suburb of Hsia-ts'ai.[3] For three years this lady has been climbing the garden wall and peeping at me, yet I have never succ.u.mbed.

[3] Fas.h.i.+onable quarters in the capital of Ch'u state.

"How different is the behaviour of master Teng-t'u! His wife has a wooly head and misshapen ears; projecting teeth irregularly set; a crook in her back and a halt in her gait. Moreover, she has running sores in front and behind.

"Yet Teng-t'u fell in love with her and caused her to bear him five children.