Volume Ii Part 87 (1/2)
What time it strikes the cold, it's first joyful to smile at the east wind.
When its spirit to the Yu Ling hath flown, 'tis hard to say 'tis spring.
The russet clouds across the 'Lo Fu' lie, so e'en to dreams it's closed.
The green petals add grace to a coiffure, when painted candles burn.
The simple elf when primed with wine doth the waning rainbow bestride.
Does its appearance speak of a colour of ordinary run?
Both dark and light fall of their own free will into the ice and snow.
The next was the production of Li Wen, and its burden was:
To write on the white plum I'm not disposed, but I'll write on the red.
Proud of its beauteous charms, 'tis first to meet the opening drunken eye.
On its frost-nipped face are marks; and these consist wholly of blood.
Its heart is sore, but no anger it knows; to ashes too it turns.
By some mistake a pill (a fairy) takes and quits her real frame.
From the fairyland pool she secret drops, and casts off her old form.
In spring, both north and south of the river, with splendour it doth bloom.
Send word to bees and b.u.t.terflies that they need not give way to fears!
This stanza came next from the pen of Hsueh Pao-ch'in,
Far distant do the branches grow; but how beauteous the blossom blooms!
The maidens try with profuse show to compete in their spring head-dress.
No snow remains on the vacant pavilion and the tortuous rails.
Upon the running stream and desolate hills descend the russet clouds.
When cold prevails one can in a still dream follow the la.s.s-blown fife.
The wandering elf roweth in fragrant spring, the boat in the red stream.
In a previous existence, it must sure have been of fairy form.
No doubt need 'gain arise as to its beauty differing from then.
The perusal over, they spent some time in heaping, smiling the while, eulogiums upon the compositions. And they pointed at the last stanza as the best of the lot; which made it evident to Pao-yu that Pao-ch'in, albeit the youngest in years, was, on the other hand, the quickest in wits.
Tai-yu and Hsiang-yun then filled up a small cup with wine and simultaneously offered their congratulations to Pao-ch'in.
”Each of the three stanzas has its beauty,” Pao-ch'ai remarked, a smile playing round her lips. ”You two have daily made a fool of me, and are you now going to fool her also?”
”Have you got yours ready?” Li Wan went on to inquire of Pao-yu.
”I'd got them,” Pao-yu promptly answered, ”but the moment I read their three stanzas, I once more became so nervous that they quite slipped from my mind. But let me think again.”
Hsiang-yun, at this reply, fetched a copper poker, and, while beating on the hand-stove, she laughingly said: ”I shall go on tattooing. Now mind if when the drumming ceases, you haven't accomplished your task, you'll have to bear another fine.”
”I've already got them!” Pao-yu rejoined, smilingly.