Part 6 (1/2)
And I such signs discerning Think of you, husband dear, And long for your home-coming From marches long and drear.
Why do you longer tarry In such a distant place?
Think of my lonely vigils, Sad thoughts and tear-stained face!
The harp I often finger, And try to sing a song; But soon I sigh and falter, And for your coming long.
The Moon's pure light is s.h.i.+ning Upon my lonely bed; The 'Star-Stream's'[18] westward flowing, The night is not far sped.
The Cowherd and the Spinning-Girl[19]
Lament the doom that bars The meeting of true lovers, Across the Stream of Stars.
What folly did they ponder To meet so dire a fate?
I wonder if we also Are doomed to trial as great!
[17] In this poem the thoughts of a woman, whose husband is engaged in the wars beyond the frontier, are described by the poet.
[18] The Milky Way.
[19] K'ien-Niu (Cowherd) and Chih-Nu (Spinning-Girl) are the names of two stars and, according to a Chinese legend, these two stars are lovers doomed to gaze at each other across the wide 'River of Stars'; i.e. the Milky Way, but never meet. According to one version of the legend, however, the lovers are allowed to meet once a year, on the seventh night of the Seventh Month, when birds form a bridge over the 'River of Stars' to enable the Spinning-Girl to meet her lover.
_Farewell to a Comrade_
BY CHEN KIA-CHOW
T'ANG DYNASTY
Cold gusts from Arctic regions sweep the ground, And snowflakes countless fly through the wintry sky, Covering with spotless robe the earth around, While snow flowers frail on twigs and branches lie.
As when a genial breeze in early Spring Shakes open all the pear-trees' blossoms white, And sombre-looking trees with leafless boughs Are decked with radiance in a single night.
Through crevices and slits in bamboo blinds, Which s.h.i.+eld the entrance to our hempen tent, Snow-whirls and keen winds blow and chill the blood, In spite of furs and wadded garments blent.
Cold so intense is felt by all alike-- The General cannot stretch his horn-tipped bow, In coats of mail the Captains stiffly move, While soldiers growl or mutter curses low.
Far off the desert stretches as a sea, In frozen ridges like to driven clouds, Alas, the mult.i.tudes of warriors brave The pathless waste of cruel sand enshrouds!
But now our happy comrade homeward turns, We'll drink his health to sound of viol and flute, And see him safely on his journey start; Another cup, and then the old salute!
Falls thick the snow around the fortress walls, The red flag frozen stirs not in the air, As forth we ride from out the Eastern gate,-- In jostling groups, or quietly pair by pair.
Nearing the Tien-shan[20] road we draw in rein, To bid our comrade there a last farewell, And watch him upward climb the mountain path To peaks that touch the clouds where genii dwell.[21]
But soon the winding path conceals from view The fading hors.e.m.e.n as they upward wend; All we now see are footprints in the snow, As 'ih-lu fuh-sing'[22] we towards them send.