Part 9 (1/2)

I must let fall the long restrained tears As, clasping hands, you calm my anxious fears; If not, my heart will break with sighs repressed To hear your love so tenderly confessed.

But courage, we will think of Young Love's day, And all the pleasures which therein did stay; And this shall cheer me on the toilsome road, And help you here to bear your weary load.

Then with what joy we shall renew our life, When I return safe from the dreadful strife; But if, alas! the Fates should death decree, My spirit shall for ever live with thee.

[38] Chinese commentators regard this poem as Su's farewell to his own wife, written when he was sent on an expedition to the land of the Hsiung-nu, where he was captured and kept in captivity for many years.

_The Wanderer's Return_

BY TU FU

T'ANG DYNASTY

The setting sun beneath the red-lined clouds, Which ma.s.s around the foot-hills in the west, Still floods the valley with a rose-hued light, And lures the chirping birds to seek their rest.

The wayworn traveller pauses near the gate, From which he sallied forth so long ago; Unconscious then of what Fate held in store-- The years of separation, loss, and woe.

The neighbours press around the garden fence, And gaze with mouth agape, or quietly sigh; While wife and children awestruck, rigid stand, And then tears flow and to his arms they fly.

'For years on revolution's waves I've tossed, While wife and bairns mourned me in hopeless plight; And now to-night, as in a dream, I sit With all my loved ones 'neath the lamp's bright light.'

_The Pleasures of a Simple Life with Nature_

BY LI-SHANG-YIN

T'ANG DYNASTY

On these pleasant hills residing, Far from worldly din and strife, Leisurely with nature living, Here I pa.s.s a happy life.

Gently wave the bamboo copses, Fanned by evening breezes light; While the flowers and moon-beams mingle In the ghostly hours of night.

Through ravines the waters gurgle, Stemmed by scattered rock and stone; Round the bends the footpath wanders-- By the mosses overgrown.

Here with friends and habits simple, And a cup of generous wine, Fingering lute and old songs singing-- For no other heaven I pine.

_Listening to the Playing on a Lute in a Boat_

BY SU-s.h.i.+H

In my boat I sat alone, And the hours were fast in flight, When the sound of music broke The stillness of the night.

Sighing winds through fir-trees swept, Falling cascades murmured low, As the master touched his lute-- So lovingly and slow.

Clutching fast my lapelled coat, Rapture swayed me without bounds, As with every nerve intent, I listened to the sounds.