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diff --git a/old/50155-0.txt b/old/50155-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 21f0f68..0000000 --- a/old/50155-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,666 +0,0 @@ - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50155 *** - - - - - CATHAY - - TRANSLATIONS BY - - EZRA POUND - - - - FOR THE MOST PART FROM THE CHINESE - OF RIHAKU, FROM THE NOTES OF THE - LATE ERNEST FENOLLOSA, AND - THE DECIPHERINGS OF THE - PROFESSORS MORI - AND ARIGA - - - LONDON - - ELKIN MATHEWS, CORK STREET - - MCMXV - - - - Rihaku flourished in the eighth century of our era. The - Anglo-Saxon Seafarer is of about this period. The other - poems from the Chinese are earlier. - - - - Song of the Bowmen of Shu - - Here we are, picking the first fern-shoots - And saying: When shall we get back to our country? - Here we are because we have the Ken-nin for our - foemen, - We have no comfort because of these Mongols. - We grub the soft fern-shoots, - When anyone says "Return," the others are full of - sorrow. - Sorrowful minds, sorrow is strong, we are hungry - and thirsty. - Our defence is not yet made sure, no one can let - his friend return. - We grub the old fern-stalks. - We say: Will we be let to go back in October? - There is no ease in royal affairs, we have no comfort. - Our sorrow is bitter, but we would not return to our - country. - What flower has come into blossom? - Whose chariot? The General's. - Horses, his horses even, are tired. They were strong. - We have no rest, three battles a month. - By heaven, his horses are tired. - The generals are on them, the soldiers are by them - The horses are well trained, the generals have ivory - arrows and quivers ornamented with fish-skin. - The enemy is swift, we must be careful. - When we set out, the willows were drooping with spring, - We come back in the snow, - We go slowly, we are hungry and thirsty, - Our mind is full of sorrow, who will know of our grief? - - _By Kutsugen._ - _4th Century B.C._ - - - - The Beautiful Toilet - - Blue, blue is the grass about the river - And the willows have overfilled the close garden. - And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth, - White, white of face, hesitates, passing the door. - Slender, she puts forth a slender hand, - - And she was a courtezan in the old days, - And she has married a sot, - Who now goes drunkenly out - And leaves her too much alone. - - _By Mei Sheng._ - _B.C. 140._ - - - - - The River Song - - - This boat is of shato-wood, and its gunwales are cut - magnolia, - Musicians with jewelled flutes and with pipes of gold - Fill full the sides in rows, and our wine - Is rich for a thousand cups. - We carry singing girls, drift with the drifting water, - Yet Sennin needs - A yellow stork for a charger, and all our seamen - Would follow the white gulls or ride them. - Kutsu's prose song - Hangs with the sun and moon. - - King So's terraced palace - is now but a barren hill, - But I draw pen on this barge - Causing the five peaks to tremble, - And I have joy in these words - like the joy of blue islands. - (If glory could last forever - Then the waters of Han would flow northward.) - - And I have moped in the Emperor's garden, awaiting - an order-to-write! - I looked at the dragon-pond, with its willow-coloured - water - Just reflecting the sky's tinge, - And heard the five-score nightingales aimlessly singing. - - The eastern wind brings the green colour into the island - grasses at Yei-shu, - The purple house and the crimson are full of Spring - softness. - South of the pond the willow-tips are half-blue and - bluer, - Their cords tangle in mist, against the brocade-like - palace. - Vine-strings a hundred feet long hang down from carved - railings, - And high over the willows, the fine birds sing to each - other, and listen, - Crying--"Kwan, Kuan," for the early wind, and the feel - of it. - The wind bundles itself into a bluish cloud and wanders off. - Over a thousand gates, over a thousand doors are the sounds - of spring singing, - And the Emperor is at Ko. - Five clouds hang aloft, bright on the purple sky, - The imperial guards come forth from the golden house with - their armour a-gleaming. - The emperor in his jewelled car goes out to inspect his - flowers, - He goes out to Hori, to look at the wing-flapping storks, - He returns by way of Sei rock, to hear the new nightingales, - For the gardens at Jo-run are full of new nightingales, - Their sound is mixed in this flute, - Their voice is in the twelve pipes here. - - _By Rihaku._ - _8th century A.D._ - - - - The River-Merchant's Wife: a Letter - - - While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead - I played about the front gate, pulling flowers. - You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse, - You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. - And we went on living in the village of Chokan: - Two small people, without dislike or suspicion. - - At fourteen I married My Lord you. - I never laughed, being bashful. - Lowering my head, I looked at the wall. - Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back. - - At fifteen I stopped scowling, - I desired my dust to be mingled with yours - Forever and forever, and forever. - Why should I climb the look out? - - At sixteen you departed, - You went into far Ku-to-Yen, by the river of swirling eddies, - And you have been gone five months. - The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead. - You dragged your feet when you went out. - By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses, - Too deep to clear them away! - The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind. - The paired butterflies are already yellow with August - Over the grass in the West garden, - They hurt me, - I grow older, - If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang, - Please let me know beforehand, - And I will come out to meet you, - As far as Cho-fu-Sa. - - _By Rihaku._ - - - - - The Jewel Stairs' Grievance - - - The jewelled steps are already quite white with dew, - It is so late that the dew soaks my gauze stockings, - And I let down the crystal curtain - And watch the moon through the clear autumn. - - _By Rihaku._ - - - - Note.--Jewel stairs, therefore a palace. Grievance, - therefore there is something to complain, of. Gauze - stockings, therefore a court lady, not a servant who - complains. Clear autumn, therefore he has no excuse on - account of weather. Also she has come early, for the dew - has not merely whitened the stairs, but has soaked her - stockings. The poem is especially prized because she utters - no direct reproach. - - - - - Poem by the Bridge at Ten-Shin - - - March has come to the bridge head, - Peach boughs and apricot boughs hang over a thousand gates, - At morning there are flowers to cut the heart, - And evening drives them on the eastward-flowing waters. - Petals are on the gone waters and on the going, - And on the back-swirling eddies, - But to-days men are not the men of the old days, - Though they hang in the same way over the bridge-rail. - - The sea's colour moves at the dawn - And the princes still stand in rows, about the throne, - And the moon falls over the portals of Sei-go-yo, - And clings to the walls and the gate-top. - With head-gear glittering against the cloud and sun, - The lords go forth from the court, and into far borders. - They ride upon dragon-like horses, - Upon horses with head-trappings of yellow-metal, - And the streets make way for their passage. - Haughty their passing, - Haughty their steps as they go into great banquets, - To high halls and curious food, - To the perfumed air and girls dancing, - To clear flutes and clear singing; - To the dance of the seventy couples; - To the mad chase through the gardens. - Night and day are given over to pleasure - And they think it will last a thousand autumns, - Unwearying autumns. - For them the yellow dogs howl portents in vain, - And what are they compared to the lady Riokushu, - That was cause of hate! - Who among them is a man like Han-rei - Who departed alone with his mistress, - With her hair unbound, and he his own skiffs-man! - - _By Rihaku._ - - - - - Lament of the Frontier Guard - - - By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand, - Lonely from the beginning of time until now! - Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn. - I climb the towers and towers - to watch out the barbarous land: - Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert. - There is no wall left to this village. - Bones white with a thousand frosts, - High heaps, covered with trees and grass; - Who brought this to pass? - Who has brought the flaming imperial anger? - Who has brought the army with drums and with kettle-drums? - Barbarous kings. - A gracious spring, turned to blood-ravenous autumn, - A turmoil of wars-men, spread over the middle kingdom, - Three hundred and sixty thousand, - And sorrow, sorrow like rain. - Sorrow to go, and sorrow, sorrow returning, - Desolate, desolate fields, - And no children of warfare upon them, - No longer the men for offence and defence. - Ah, how shall you know the dreary sorrow at the North Gate, - With Rihoku's name forgotten, - And we guardsmen fed to the tigers. - - _Rihaku._ - - - - - Exile's Letter - - - To So-Kin of Rakuyo, ancient friend, Chancellor of Gen. - Now I remember that you built me a special tavern - By the south side of the bridge at Ten-Shin. - With yellow gold and white jewels, we paid for songs - and laughter - And we were drunk for month on month, forgetting the - kings and princes. - Intelligent men came drifting in from the sea and from - the west border, - And with them, and with you especially - There was nothing at cross purpose, - And they made nothing of sea-crossing or of mountain - crossing, - If only they could be of that fellowship, - And we all spoke out our hearts and minds, and without - regret. - - And then I was sent off to South Wei, - smothered in laurel groves, - And you to the north of Raku-hoku, - Till we had nothing but thoughts and memories in common. - - And then, when separation had come to its worst, - We met, and travelled into Sen-Go, - Through all the thirty-six folds of the turning and - twisting waters, - Into a valley of the thousand bright flowers, - That was the first valley; - And into ten thousand valleys full of voices and - pine-winds. - And with silver harness and reins of gold, - Out come the East of Kan foreman and his company. - And there came also the "True man" of Shi-yo to meet me, - Playing on a jewelled mouth-organ. - In the storied houses of San-Ko they gave us more Sennin - music, - Many instruments, like the sound of young phoenix broods. - The foreman of Kan Chu, drunk, danced - because his long sleeves wouldn't keep still - With that music-playing. - And I, wrapped in brocade, went to sleep with my head on - his lap, - And my spirit so high it was all over the heavens, - And before the end of the day we were scattered like stars, - or rain. - I had to be off to So, far away over the waters, - You back to your river-bridge. - - And your father, who was brave as a leopard, - Was governor in Hei Shu, and put down the barbarian rabble. - And one May he had you send for me, - despite the long distance. - And what with broken wheels and so on, I won't say it wasn't - hard going, - Over roads twisted like sheeps' guts. - And I was still going, late in the year, - in the cutting wind from the North, - And thinking how little you cared for the cost, - and you caring enough to pay it. - And what a reception: - Red jade cups, food well set on a blue jewelled table, - And I was drunk, and had no thought of returning. - And you would walk out with me to the western corner of the - castle, - To the dynastic temple, with water about it clear as blue jade, - With boats floating, and the sound of mouth-organs and drums, - With ripples like dragon-scales, going grass green on the water, - Pleasure lasting, with courtezans, going and coming without - hindrance, - With the willow flakes falling like snow, - And the vermilioned girls getting drunk about sunset, - And the water a hundred feet deep reflecting green eyebrows - --Eyebrows painted green are a fine sight in young moonlight, - Gracefully painted-- - And the girls singing back at each other, - Dancing in transparent brocade, - And the wind lifting the song, and interrupting it, - Tossing it up under the clouds. - And all this comes to an end. - And is not again to be met with. - I went up to the court for examination, - Tried Layu's luck, offered the Choyo song, - And got no promotion, - and went back to the East Mountains - white-headed. - And once again, later, we met at the South bridge-head. - And then the crowd broke up, you went north to San palace, - And if you ask how I regret that parting: - It is like the flowers falling at Spring's end - Confused, whirled in a tangle. - What is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking, - There is no end of things in the heart. - - I call in the boy, - Have him sit on his knees here - To seal this, - And send it a thousand miles, thinking. - - _By Rihaku._ - - - - - The Seafarer - - - (_From the early Anglo-Saxon text_) - - - May I for my own self song's truth reckon, - Journey's jargon, how I in harsh days - Hardship endured oft. - Bitter breast-cares have I abided, - Known on my keel many a care's hold, - And dire sea-surge, and there I oft spent - Narrow nightwatch nigh the ship's head - While she tossed close to cliffs. Coldly afflicted, - My feet were by frost benumbed. - Chill its chains are; chafing sighs - Hew my heart round and hunger begot - Mere-weary mood. Lest man know not - That he on dry land loveliest liveth, - List how I, care-wretched, on ice-cold sea, - Weathered the winter, wretched outcast - Deprived of my kinsmen; - Hung with hard ice-flakes, where hail-scur flew, - There I heard naught save the harsh sea - And ice-cold wave, at whiles the swan cries, - Did for my games the gannet's clamour, - Sea-fowls' loudness was for me laughter, - The mews' singing all my mead-drink. - Storms, on the stone-cliffs beaten, fell on the stern - In icy feathers; full oft the eagle screamed - With spray on his pinion. - - Not any protector - May make merry man faring needy. - This he little believes, who aye in winsome life - Abides 'mid burghers some heavy business, - Wealthy and wine-flushed, how I weary oft - Must bide above brine. - Neareth nightshade, snoweth from north, - Frost froze the land, hail fell on earth then - Corn of the coldest. Nathless there knocketh now - The heart's thought that I on high streams - The salt-wavy tumult traverse alone. - Moaneth alway my mind's lust - That I fare forth, that I afar hence - Seek out a foreign fastness. - For this there's no mood-lofty man over earth's midst, - Not though he be given his good, but will have in his - youth greed; - Nor his deed to the daring, nor his king to the faithful - But shall have his sorrow for sea-fare - Whatever his lord will. - He hath not heart for harping, nor in ring-having - Nor winsomeness to wife, nor world's delight - Nor any whit else save the wave's slash, - Yet longing comes upon him to fare forth on the water. - Bosque taketh blossom, cometh beauty of berries, - Fields to fairness, land fares brisker, - All this admonisheth man eager of mood, - The heart turns to travel so that he then thinks - On flood-ways to be far departing. - Cuckoo calleth with gloomy crying, - He singeth summerward, bodeth sorrow, - The bitter heart's blood. Burgher knows not-- - He the prosperous man--what some perform - Where wandering them widest draweth. - So that but now my heart burst from my breast-lock, - My mood 'mid the mere-flood, - Over the whale's acre, would wander wide. - On earth's shelter cometh oft to me, - Eager and ready, the crying lone-flyer, - Whets for the whale-path the heart irresistibly, - O'er tracks of ocean; seeing that anyhow - My lord deems to me this dead life - On loan and on land, I believe not - That any earth-weal eternal standeth - Save there be somewhat calamitous - That, ere a man's tide go, turn it to twain. - Disease or oldness or sword-hate - Beats out the breath from doom-gripped body. - And for this, every earl whatever, for those speaking after-- - Laud of the living, boasteth some last word, - That he will work ere he pass onward, - Frame on the fair earth 'gainst foes his malice, - Daring ado,... - So that all men shall honour him after - And his laud beyond them remain 'mid the English, - Aye, for ever, a lasting life's-blast, - Delight mid the doughty. - Days little durable, - And all arrogance of earthen riches, - There come now no kings nor Caesars - Nor gold-giving lords like those gone. - Howe'er in mirth most magnified, - Whoe'er lived in life most lordliest, - Drear all this excellence, delights undurable! - Waneth the watch, but the world holdeth. - Tomb hideth trouble. - The blade is laid low. - Earthly glory ageth and seareth. - No man at all going the earth's gait, - But age fares against him, his face paleth, - Grey-haired he groaneth, knows gone companions, - Lordly men are to earth o'ergiven, - Nor may he then the flesh-cover, whose life ceaseth, - Nor eat the sweet nor feel the sorry, - Nor stir hand nor think in mid heart, - And though he strew the grave with gold, - His born brothers, their buried bodies - Be an unlikely treasure hoard. - - - - - - _From Rihaku_ - - - - FOUR POEMS OF DEPARTURE - - - _Light rain is on the light dust._ - _The willows of the inn-yard_ - _Will be going greener and greener,_ - _But you, Sir, had better take wine ere your departure,_ - _For you will have no friends about you_ - _When you come to the gates of Go._ - - - - - Separation on the River Kiang - - - Ko-jin goes west from Ko-kaku-ro, - The smoke-flowers are blurred over the river. - His lone sail blots the far sky. - And now I see only the river, - The long Kiang, reaching heaven. - - - - - Taking Leave of a Friend - - - Blue mountains to the north of the walls, - White river winding about them; - Here we must make separation - And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass. - - Mind like a floating wide cloud. - Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances - Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance. - Our horses neigh to each other - as we are departing. - - - - - Leave-taking near Shoku - - - "_Sanso, King of Shoku, built roads_" - - - They say the roads of Sanso are steep, - Sheer as the mountains. - The walls rise in a man's face, - Clouds grow out of the hill - at his horse's bridle. - Sweet trees are on the paved way of the Shin, - Their trunks burst through the paving, - And freshets are bursting their ice - in the midst of Shoku, a proud city. - - Men's fates are already set, - There is no need of asking diviners. - - - - - The City of Choan - - - The phoenix are at play on their terrace. - The phoenix are gone, the river flows on alone. - Flowers and grass - Cover over the dark path - where lay the dynastic house of the Go. - The bright cloths and bright caps of Shin - Are now the base of old hills. - - The Three Mountains fall through the far heaven, - The isle of White Heron - splits the two streams apart. - Now the high clouds cover the sun - And I can not see Choan afar - And I am sad. - - - - - South-Folk in Cold Country - - - The Dai horse neighs against the bleak wind of Etsu, - The birds of Etsu have no love for En, in the north, - Emotion is born out of habit. - Yesterday we went out of the Wild-Goose gate, - To-day from the Dragon-Pen.[1] - Surprised. Desert turmoil. Sea sun. - Flying snow bewilders the barbarian heaven. - Lice swarm like ants over our accoutrements. - Mind and spirit drive on the feathery banners. - Hard fight gets no reward. - Loyalty is hard to explain. - Who will be sorry for General Rishogu, - the swift moving, - Whose white head is lost for this province? - -[1] I.e., we have been warring from one end of the empire to -the other, now east, now west, on each border. - - - * * * * * - - I have not come to the end of Ernest Fenollosa's notes by a - long way, nor is it entirely perplexity that causes me to - cease from translation. True, I can find little to add to - one line out of a certain poem : - - "You know well where it was that I walked - When you had left me." - - In another I find a perfect speech in a literality which - will be to many most unacceptable. The couplet is as follows: - - "Drawing sword, cut into water, water again flow: - Raise cup, quench sorrow, sorrow again sorry." - - There are also other poems, notably the "Five colour - Screen," in which Professor Fenollosa was, as an art critic, - especially interested, and Rihaku's sort of Ars Poetica, - which might be given with diffidence to an audience of good - will. But if I give them, with the necessary breaks for - explanation, and a tedium of notes, it is quite certain that - the personal hatred in which I am held by many, and the - _invidia_ which is directed against me because I have dared - openly to declare my belief in certain young artists, will - be brought to bear first on the flaws of such translation, - and will then be merged into depreciation of the whole book - of translations. Therefore I give only these unquestionable - poems. - - E. P. - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50155 *** |