Du Mu: Ode to E Fang Palace
Ode to E Fang Palace
By Du Mu
Translated by Laijon Liu 20100701
Six kings were dethroned, four seas were united.
The mountain of Shu was chopped off,
and then E Fang Palace was built.
It covered three hundred li, isolated the sky and the sun.
From Li Mountain of north they constructed
toward west till they reached capital Xian Yang.
Two broad rivers slowly flowing into the wall of palace.
Five step a chamber, ten pace a pavilion;
The corridors like snakes creeping and circling,
eaves and brim like bird bills highly raised;
every carved stone held its unique pose,
hooking each other’s heart or charging with their horns.
Convolving and encircling, like hives and whorls,
And highly the houses stood many thousands.
Long bridges flying above the waves and ripples;
Oh, the clouds did not gather, how come the dragons appeared?
The overbridges hanging in midair;
The sky was still dim, but why the rainbows shining?
Among the high and low structures,
One would be lost and couldn’t point out west or north.
Singing platforms, warm melodies,
Spring scenery, all in harmony;
Dancing halls, breeze of sleeves,
Winds and rains, sadness and misery.
On the same day, in this palace,
The weather were all different.
Concubines, mistress, bedmaids, and sex slaves,
Princes and sons, and grand children of kings,
They all farewell their country and house
And drove here to serve the Emperor Qin.
They chanted their morning songs,
Plucked their musical strings at night,
Hailed the emperor all the days
To fulfill their duty in this palace.
Bright stars were glimmering,
Those were their makeup mirrors;
Dark clouds swinging and floating,
They washing their hair at morn.
The river Wei flowing like oil,
Their face cream dumped into it;
The smoke rose into the sky,
Their incense burning hour.
Suddenly thunders stroke,
The emperor’s chariot past.
The echoing sound remained,
Yet one knew not where it was.
Every inch skin, every fair face,
Perfect condition, gorgeously beautiful,
They kindly leaned and stood long time,
to the distant place they had looked,
hoping for the favor of the emperor.
Some had never seen him for thirty six years.
The collection of State Yan and Zhao,
The work of state Han and Wei,
The talents of state Qi and Chu,
So many years and so many generations,
All were plundered and carried away,
Piled up here like countless hills.
Once they could not possess their treasure,
Then all delivered here.
Caldrons and bells, jade and stones,
Gold bricks and pearl gravels,
Were cast off on the floor,
Even the citizen of Qin saw the scene
felt that was appropriate.
Ah, one man’s feeling, connected to all men’s heart.
The Qin Emperor lusted for luxury and extravagance,
And common people loved and cared their houses.
Even he could extort people to nothing,
But why he wastefully treated them like dust? !
The pillars stood in the palace
Were more than the farmers in field;
Rafters and girders were many,
More than sewing maids by the machine;
Screws and nails too much,
More than millet and grain in storehouse;
Massive covering roof tiles
More than people’s coat;
Handrails vertical and horizontal,
More than the city walls;
Noisy instrument music
Flooded the people’s voice;
And all people in the world
Dared not to complain, but dared to rise up mad!
Arbitrary dictatorship filled his heart,
Day by day he became proud.
So people cried out, warriors broke in,
A torch was lit up, the palace burnt and ravaged!
Welladay! Who conquered six states?
Not Qin Emperor, but themselves.
who destroyed Qin empire?
Qin emperor himself, not people.
If all six states loved and trusted each other,
Then together they could resist Qin army;
If Qin loved all its conquering states,
Then the empire would last its reign,
Who would want to overthrow it?
The Qin rulers did not have a chance
to pity and recollect themselves,
Only the later generations shall do,
Yet if we only sigh but do not reflect,
Then our children will shed tears for us.
Chinese:
阿 房 宫 赋
杜 牧
六 王 毕 ， 四 海 一 。 蜀 山 兀 ， 阿 房 出 。 覆 压 三 百 余 里 ， 隔 离 天 日 。 骊 （ Lí） 山 北 构 而 西 折 ， 直 走 咸 阳 。 二 川 溶 溶 ， 流 入 宫 墙 。 五 步 一 楼 ， 十 步 一 阁 ； 廊 腰 缦 回 ， 檐 牙 高 啄 ； 各 抱 地 势 ， 钩 心 斗 角 。 盘 盘 焉 ， 囷 囷 （ qū n） 焉 ， 蜂 房 水 涡 ， 矗 （ chù） 不 知 其 几 千 万 落 。 长 桥 卧 波 ， 未 云 何 龙 ？ 复 道 行 空 ， 不 霁 （ jì） 何 虹 ？ 高 低 冥 迷 ， 不 知 西 东 。 歌 台 暖 响 ， 春 光 融 融 ； 舞 殿 冷 袖 ， 风 雨 凄 凄 。 一 日 之 内 ， 一 宫 之 间 ， 而 气 候 不 齐 。
妃 嫔 [pín]媵 （ yìng） 嫱 ， 王 子 皇 孙 ， 辞 楼 下 殿 ， 辇 （ niǎ n） 来 于 秦 。 朝 歌 夜 弦 （ xián） ， 为 秦 宫 人 。 明 星 荧 荧 ， 开 妆 镜 也 ； 绿 云 扰 扰 ， 梳 晓 鬟 （ huán） 也 ； 渭 流 涨 腻 ， 弃 脂 水 也 ； 烟 斜 雾 横 ， 焚 椒 兰 也 。 雷 霆 乍 惊 ， 宫 车 过 也 ； 辘 辘 （ lù） 远 听 ， 杳 （ yǎ o） 不 知 其 所 之 也 。 一 肌 一 容 ， 尽 态 极 妍 ， 缦 立 远 视 ， 而 望 幸 焉 。 有 不 见 者 ， 三 十 六 年 。 燕 赵 之 收 藏 ， 韩 魏 之 经 营 ， 齐 楚 之 精 英 ， 几 世 几 年 ， 剽 （ piā o） 掠 其 人 ， 倚 叠 如 山 。 一 旦 不 能 有 ， 输 来 其 间 。 鼎 铛 （ chē ng） 玉 石 ， 金 块 珠 砾 ， 弃 掷 逦 （ lǐ ） 迤 （ yǐ ） ， 秦 人 视 之 ， 亦 不 甚 惜 。
嗟 乎 ！ 一 人 之 心 ， 千 万 人 之 心 也 。 秦 爱 纷 奢 ， 人 亦 念 其 家 。 奈 何 取 之 尽 锱 （ zī ） 铢 （ zhū ） ， 用 之 如 泥 沙 ？ 使 负 栋 之 柱 ， 多 于 南 亩 之 农 夫 ； 架 梁 之 椽 （ chuán） ， 多 于 机 上 之 工 女 ； 钉 头 磷 磷 ， 多 于 在 庾 （ yǔ ） 之 粟 (sù) 粒 ； 瓦 缝 参 差 （ cē n cī ） ， 多 于 周 身 之 帛 缕 ； 直 栏 横 槛 （ jiàn） ， 多 于 九 土 之 城 郭 ； 管 弦 呕 哑 （ ō uyā ） ， 多 于 市 人 之 言 语 。 使 天 下 之 人 ， 不 敢 言 而 敢 怒 。 独 夫 之 心 ， 日 益 骄 固 。 戍 （ shù） 卒 叫 ， 函 谷 举 ， 楚 人 一 炬 ， 可 怜 焦 土 ！
呜 呼 ！ 灭 六 国 者 六 国 也 ， 非 秦 也 ； 族 秦 者 秦 也 ， 非 天 下 也 。 嗟 夫 ！ 使 六 国 各 爱 其 人 ， 则 足 以 拒 秦 ； 使 秦 复 爱 六 国 之 人 ， 则 递 三 世 可 至 万 世 而 为 君 ， 谁 得 而 族 灭 也 ？ 秦 人 不 暇 自 哀 ， 而 后 人 哀 之 ； 后 人 哀 之 而 不 鉴 之 ， 亦 使 后 人 而 复 哀 后 人 也 。
poem by Laijon Liu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Year of the Tiger Feeling (VLR Journal， 2010)
using your country's culture
easy
lights it up our place
quickly
a prosperous & peaceful 2010
ready
the year of the tiger
happy
so much
lucky
March 5， 2010， Hormish Garden of Toronto 2: 00 to 3: 00 am
poem by Hormish Woo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Plats du Chef Journal (1)
Yonge Street Who Could Count Long How
to Mr. Yonge who lost a piece copied license that i picked up
Saw your soul left in the lunch room lonely,
Picked up a piece special information;
Your eyes i had looked your heart sincerely,
Read your eyes and your concatenation.
We had been linked up by copied paper,
Leaving mystery gave our successors;
We raised frindship with our hands forever,
Sewing and mending with cultured scissors.
You did not hesitate to mention it,
A story you chose that did not forget;
Bring my desire with your flying winglet,
There were our future here that you could get.
O boy! you told me you born in this place,
O boy! i boasted about your kind face.
June， 6， 2010， Hormish Garden of Toronto 7: 30 to 9: 30 pm
Revised June 11,2010 7: 00 to 8: 30am
poem by Hormish Woo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The wall English and Japanese version
the Wall
Standing
In front of a wall.
Searching.
For my instinct.
One knock
I give.
For every
hint.
I try
to feel the wall
by touching it
with
my feet
my arms
my head
my heart..
All of the sudden
I feel
the greatest need
to hit
And kick? !
Inside of me
The wall is now!
Impossible
to tear it down.
But: Can I control
My Instinct! ?
Calling out to my mind
and heart-do it:
-Unite! ! - Unite! !
Here's a wall
to climb up
が ん ば れ ！ ！ Fight! !
........
And so,
I came
To win
another day
I climbed my wall
to the light for
one more day.
But night goes fast
Tomorrow
comes again
I wonder
what I'll get
Another
wall to climb
or..
a big hole..
ザ ・ ウ ォ ー ル
立 っ て い る
壁 の 前 に 。
捜 し て い る
私 の 本 能 を 。
ノ ッ ク を ひ と つ
私 は 与 え る 。
あ ら ゆ る ヒ ン ト の た め に 。
私 は 試 す
壁 を 感 じ る こ と を
私 の 足 で
私 の 腕 で
私 の 手 で
私 の 心 で
そ れ に 触 る こ と で …
突 然
私 は 感 じ る
最 大 の 必 要 性 を
打 つ こ と の
そ し て 蹴 る こ と の ？ ！
私 の 中 で
そ の 壁 が 今 ！
不 可 能 だ
そ れ を 取 り 壊 す こ と は 。
で も ： 私 は 自 分 の 本 能 を
制 御 す る こ と が 出 来 る の か ！ ？
私 の 理 性 と 心 に 叫 ん で い る
－ や れ 、 と ：
－ 一 体 に な る ん だ ！ ！ － 一 体 に な る ん だ ！ ！
こ こ に
登 る た め の 壁 が あ る
が ん ば れ ！ ！ フ ァ イ ト ！ ！
……
そ し て 、 そ
別 の 日
私 は 自 分 の 壁 に 登 り
さ ら な る も う 一 日 の た め の
光 に た ど り 着 い た 。
し か し 夜 は す ぐ に や っ て く る
明 日
再 び や っ て く る
私 は 不 思 議 に 思 う
何 が 私 に 別 の 壁 を 登 ら せ る の だ ろ う
そ れ と も …
大 き な 落 と し 穴 だ ろ う か …
A wonderful translation, by the kindness of my friend Miyuki Kuroda.
poem by Elena Sandu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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cherry tree (English and Japanese)
-Good morning sir!
To the man
who blocked her way
a little child said.
-Good morning
and good day
to you my girl!
May I ask some questions
dear?
-Dont know sir..Yes..Words..
I do not fear
-Are you alone?
-Maybe, don't know..
you may say so, sir
my parents gone
to clouds for so long..
-Where do you live?
-The forest is the place
I sleep..
-Aren't you scared to live alone?
Pardon me sir! I'm not living alone! ? !
That tree it is my sweetest company
And that other One, it feeds me
like a parent
no, I can not be lonely,
they also aren't..
Do you want something
or someone 'important'
to become?
one wish to tell me, do
so glad I'll be to make it happen,
promise you!
Oh sir, if that is really really true,
then please, please do!
Make me to be a cherry tree
and sir, forgive me please:
may you put me and my family
to land whose people care and
loves their most
for us, the cherry trees? !
That is to be Japan and Japanese,
you see? ..
桜 の 木
-お は よ う ご ざ い ま す お じ さ ん ！
彼 女 の 行 く 手 を ふ さ ぐ 男 性 に
小 さ な 子 ど も は 言 っ た
-お は よ う 、 い い 日 だ ね
お じ ょ う ち ゃ ん ！
君 に ち ょ っ と
聞 い て も い い か な ？
－ 分 か り ま せ ん ・ ・ は い ・ ･ 言 葉 は ・ ・
私 は 怖 が っ て ま せ ん
－ 君 は 一 人 ぼ っ ち ？
－ 多 分 、 分 か り ま せ ん ・ ・
お じ さ ん が そ う 言 う な ら そ う か も し れ ま せ ん
わ た し の 両 親 は と て も 長 い 間
雲 へ 行 っ て い る ・ ・
－ ど こ に 住 ん で い る の ？
－ 森 が 私 の 眠 る 場 所 ・ ・
－ 一 人 ぼ っ ち で 住 ん で い て 怖 く な い ？
-失 礼 で す が お じ さ ん 、 わ た し は 一 人 ぼ っ ち で は あ り ま せ ん 。
あ の 木 は 私 の 一 番 の 仲 良 し
そ し て あ の 他 の 木 は 、 私 を 養 っ て く れ て い る 。
両 親 の よ う に
い い え 、 私 は 孤 独 で は あ り ま せ ん 、
そ し て 木 々 た ち も ・ ・
君 は 何 か 欲 し い か い ？
そ れ と も 誰 か が ‘大 切 な 人 ‘に な っ
一 つ 願 い を 私 に 話 し て ご ら ん
喜 ん で そ れ を 叶 え よ う
約 束 す る よ ！
ま あ 、 お じ さ ん 、 も し 本 当 に 本 当 に そ う な ら
ど う か ど う か
私 を 桜 の 木 に し て く だ さ い
そ し て お じ さ ん 、 ど う か お 許 し を ：
私 と 家 族 を
人 々 が 私 た ち 桜 の 木 を よ く 世 話 し て く れ 、
最 も 愛 し て く れ る 土 地 に
置 い て く だ さ い ま す か ？ ！
そ れ は 日 本 と 日 本 人
お わ か り で し ょ う ？ ・ ・
poem by Elena Sandu
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Poetry: A Tiger in a Cage
A Tiger in a Cage
By Laijon Liu 20090611
A tiger in a cage
A crown taken away
In forest he’s a king
But here he falls into Cat category
Children adore him all day
Dogs bark at him
Behind bars he laps his paws
Invincible daggers he’ll never use
What kind of beast
Waits for people to feed?
Isn’t he a sun-god?
Plays a devil role at night?
Beautiful camouflage coat
Should be an art of mystery
But now he can’t find a bush
To show off his magic mark
A pair sad and big eye
Golden and mild
No light of hope
Shining no pride, nor wild
Ah, he is a tiger
But caged behind bars
A god of mountain
Became a wooden idol
Note:
Society is a jail that locks our spirit and breaks down our will. I often feel I should accomplish more with whatever I have, but often feel that I’m unable to do. There is a greater force that shut all the doors right in front of me, till one day I stop hitting my head against walls, and I would walk by its side back and forth, couldn’t give up, and one day I might eventually become that brother tiger I met at the zoo years ago, that he stopped looking at the visitors, stopped walking by the bars to hope a miracle gate to be opened, just laying there half-sleep all day, given up dreaming the green forest, high mount top, deep valley, living springs, and never cared if he was alive or dead, or hungry or lack of mate or sex. He should have his kingdom and title, his deity and honor. I shed tears for him, sometimes I only pity him that he did not deserve such treatment, he was not human, he only took what he needed, but even so strong like him still could not break away from the bars we made, all of his identity stripped away, and such life even worst than death. There is a Chinese saying: “Rather live a day of tiger, should not suffer for hundred years like a sheep.” But in our zoo, no one can break loose, not even terrible beasts, maybe only Jesus. And a few prophets and suicidal poets? I doubt. They simply lived a short life in our zoo. Just an opinion.
Chinese:
一 只 笼 中 虎 ,
它 的 王 冠 被 夺 去
在 林 中 它 作 王
在 这 儿 却 落 得 个 猫 科 动 物
孩 子 们 整 日 围 观 它 ,
小 狗 们 朝 着 它 叫 ,
它 在 栏 后 舔 着 爪 ,
无 敌 的 利 刃 它 不 再 使 用 .
什 么 样 的 野 兽
等 着 人 来 喂 养 ?
难 道 它 不 是 太 阳 之 神 ?
在 夜 间 充 当 魔 鬼 的 角 色 ?
它 隐 蔽 的 斑 纹
是 神 秘 的 艺 术 ,
但 现 在 它 却 找 不 到 一 片 树 丛 ,
来 炫 耀 它 的 绝 技 .
一 对 悲 伤 的 大 眼 睛 ,
金 黄 且 温 柔 ,
闪 着 无 望 的 光 ,
失 去 了 野 性 , 也 没 有 骄 傲 .
它 是 一 只 老 虎
被 关 在 了 笼 中 .
一 个 山 神
被 做 成 了 木 偶 像 .
poem by Laijon Liu
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Hiroshima
Oh! The mushroom cloud
Oppenhiemer takes solace
In my Bhagwad Gita and
Quotes Lord Krishna
I have become death
The destroyer of Universe
The Emperor when told -
The old wooden palace
Reduced to cinders- Asks
What about my old Elm tree
For a palace can be built in a month
It takes a hundred years for
An Elm to fully grow
We will surrender says the Emperor
Why - asks the Diet
I cannot see the slaughter of -
My people.
Young army hotheads-thinking
Emperor has been ill advised
Ask the General to follow -
The Code of the Japanese Soldier
And overthrow the Emperor and the Diet
Sayeth the General-
You talk of the Code of the Japanese Soldier
The Japanese Soldier has but one code -
'He always obeys his Emperor'.
And commits
Harakiri
poem by Satbir Bakshi
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soul painting （ English and Japanese）
What is the color
of my soul?
is it white
blue, green
or black?
What if I'd never know
constantly changing
-a chameleon?
What colors
should I use
to paint my soul?
If not a rainbow
then.. I shall
never know? !
ソ ウ ル ペ イ ン テ ィ ン グ
私 の 魂 の 色 は
何 色 ？
そ れ は 白
青 、 緑
そ れ と も 黒 ？
私 が 知 ら な か っ た ら ど う だ ろ う
常 に 色 を 変 え る こ と を
カ メ レ オ ン ？
何 色 を
私 の 魂 を ペ イ ン ト す る の に
使 う べ き ？
も し 虹 で な い な ら
そ う な ら ・ ・ ・ 私 は け っ し て 知 る こ と は な い だ ろ う ？
poem by Elena Sandu
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The Concubine
Chen Xiao Fei while the sun does shine
Was taken as the Emperor's concubine,
Just one of a hundred from the village Yang Ping
And chosen by the placing of a bright gold ring.
The Emperor's minions took her by the hand
And led her far away from the life she'd planned,
Her tears flew wide as she said zy jian
To the Ma ma, signing her away with a pen.
She said farewell to her friends from the school
Then they bathed her well in a rose-petalled pool,
They dressed her in the silks of a young girl's dream
And gave her to the Emperor, at just fourteen.
She lodged with the other of his concubines
Who taught her the rules she must follow all times
She never must climb in the top of his bed
But crawl beneath the sheet from his feet to his head.
She was told of the colours that she must not wear
And she came and she went, but by a side door
She was low in the rank of his concubines
And waited on him calling her, the very first time.
But once he had ravaged her virginity
She was told to leave his bed, but immediately,
For all of his consorts waited in a line
For the glory of a moment as his concubine.
They were guarded by the eunuchs of the Emperor's court
Who dallied with the concubines, until they were caught,
Then their heads were toppled by a sharp steel blade
And buried in the field where their sisters were laid.
But the news came down, and the news was bleak
That the Emperor was dead, had died in his sleep
And the Empress ordered that Chen Xiao Fei
Would be buried standing up, in the Emperor's grave.
She begged and she pleaded with the Emperor's wife
But consorts were needed in the afterlife,
She could choose to be drowned in the well by the park,
Or hang herself there, with a bright silk scarf.
She picked out a scarf to be hung, Xiao Fei
Along with the others, at dawn the next day,
And they all were buried by the eunuch guard
In a line, in a field by the Palace's yard.
And now as you pass by a field, weed-grown
There's barely a glimpse of a weather-worn stone,
All that is left of the girl sent away
For the lust of an Emperor, Chen Xiao Fei.
poem by David Lewis Paget
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To Lord Hu
We shall not ask for the precious pearl of the Duke of Sui,
nor for the priceless jade disk of Master Ho.
We merely ask for the recent news of our homeland.
The Palace of Spiritual Illumination must be still there,
surrounded by desolation.
What's happened to the stone statues buried deep in the grass,
still guarding the Imperial tombs?
Is it true that our people left behind in the occupied territories
are still planting mulberry trees and hemp?
Is it true that the rear guard of the Barbarians
only patrols the city walls?
This widow's father and grandfather were born in Shantung.
Although they never held high office, their fame spread far and wide.
I remember when they carried on animated discussions
with other scholars by the city gate.
The listeners were so crowded that their sweat fell like rain.
Their offspring crossed the Yangtze River to the South many years ago.
Drifting in the rapids, they mingled with refugees.
I send blood-stained tears to the mountains and rivers of home,
And sprinkle a cup of earth on East Mountain.
I imagine when Your Lordship, His Majesty's envoy, upholding the Imperial spirit,
passes through our two capitals, K'ai Feng and Lo Yang,
Thousands of people would line the streets and present tea and broth
to welcome you....
Announce that the Emperor's heart aches for the suffering people---
they are his own children.
Let them understand that the Will of Heaven remembers all living beings.
Our sagacious Emperor offers his trust which is as brilliant as the sun.
There is no need to negotiate many times after the long chaos of the years.
poem by Li Ching Chao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hard Working Man (English ~Japanese version)
Work work work work!
Work work work work!
Work to accumulate!
Work to achieve!
Can you dare to live?
Far Far Far Far
Far Far Far Far
Far from a wife
Far from the kids
What a nightmare dream!
Dream! Dream Dream Dream
Dream! Dream Dream Dream
Stop stop dreaming
Start start living
Drag self out of dream!
Speak speak speak speak
Speak speak speak speak!
Open your mouth, open your heart
Could it be that hard? !
ハ ー ド ウ ォ ー キ ン グ マ ン
仕 事 仕 事 仕 事 仕 事 ！
仕 事 仕 事 仕 事 仕 事 ！
貯 め る た め に 働 け ！
成 し 遂 げ る た め に 働 け ！
あ な た は そ う や っ て 生 き て い く の か ？
遠 く 遠 く 遠 く 遠 く
遠 く 遠 く 遠 く 遠 く
妻 か ら 遠 く
子 ど も た ち か ら も 遠 く
な ん て 悪 夢 ！
夢 ！ 夢 夢 夢
夢 ！ 夢 夢 夢
夢 見 る こ と を 止 め る の を 夢 み る
生 き 始 め る の を 夢 み る
自 ら を 夢 か ら 引 き ず り 出 せ ！
話 す 話 す 話 す 話 す
話 す 話 す 話 す 話 す ！
口 を 開 け て 、 心 を 開 い て
そ ん な に 難 し い こ と だ ろ う か ？ ！
Translation by the kindness of a friend, Miyuki Kuroda, lots of thanks!
poem by Elena Sandu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dragons
In the year of the Jade Emperor,
In the time of the people’s pain,
The sun was hot, the people groaned
The sky gave up no rain;
‘The sky gave up no rain, ’ he said,
‘The ground was dry as a bone,
There were no rivers or lakes to feed
The crops that the people owned.
The rice lay waste in the paddy fields,
The people ate bark and clay,
While on the shores of the Eastern Sea
Four dragons laughed and played.’
‘These creatures, made of snake and claw,
Of horn, and fire and scale,
Looked down to see the people pray,
To hear the people wail,
So Black, and Yellow, Long and Pearl,
For these were the dragons’ names,
Felt sad for the people’s plight, and said,
“We must bring on the rain! ”
Without the rain, the people die,
They are so poor and thin,
We needs must enter at Heaven’s Gate
So He will intervene! ’
‘They flew to the Jade Emperor
Who promised to send them rain,
But then sat back with his minstrel songs,
Forgot the people’s pain.
For ten long days the dragons paused
To wait the darkening clouds,
But only saw the people cry,
Lay out their dead in shrouds.
They laid their dead in shrouds, ’ he said,
‘The lastborn to the first,
The dragons said, “He heeds us not,
Won’t slake the people’s thirst.”’
‘The dragons flew to the Eastern Sea,
They knew it would bring them pain,
But to ease the hurt of the brown, dead earth
What else, but the soothing rain?
Now, dragons’ care for man’s despair,
His hopes, his joys, his tears,
They send their many blessings down,
Relieve the people’s fears.
They flew on out to the Eastern Sea
Its waters so clear and deep,
They flung it up to the heavens high
That what they’d sow, they’d reap.’
Then down it came in a storm of rain
That fed the people’s joy,
They laughed aloud at this water cloud
That the dragons had employed.
The moment the Jade Emperor
By the Sea God was informed,
He stamped and raged, and bellowed loud
That he would not be scorned!
He called his Generals and his troops,
To make the dragons’ answer,
Then called the Mountain God to him
To lie on them forever!
Caught fast beneath a mountain each
The dragons still were glad,
They’d saved the people from their pain,
The price they paid was sad;
But not unbearable, they thought,
So Long, and Black and Yellow,
With Pearl, devised another plan
That they might ever follow.
They turned themselves to rivers wide
To flow across each valley,
From West to East, the Long, the Black,
The Pearl flows, and the Yellow.
Four dragons’ that once cared for man,
Four dragons’ spread their tails,
They fed the crops that man might eat,
Might sing or dance, not wail;
The Heilongjiang is River Black,
The Dragon of the north,
And south of him, the Huanghe flows,
The Yellow Dragon’s course;
The Yangtze is the Dragon Long,
The Changjiang, to the mouth,
While Pearl is now the Zhujiang,
The Dragon of the south.
23 December 2005
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Emperor's Bird's-Nest. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
Once the Emperor Charles of Spain,
With his swarthy, grave commanders,
I forget in what campaign,
Long besieged, in mud and rain,
Some old frontier town of Flanders.
Up and down the dreary camp,
In great boots of Spanish leather,
Striding with a measured tramp,
These Hidalgos, dull and damp,
Cursed the Frenchmen, cursed the weather.
Thus as to and fro they went,
Over upland and through hollow,
Giving their impatience vent,
Perched upon the Emperor's tent,
In her nest, they spied a swallow.
Yes, it was a swallow's nest,
Built of clay and hair of horses,
Mane, or tail, or dragoon's crest,
Found on hedge-rows east and west,
After skirmish of the forces.
Then an old Hidalgo said,
As he twirled his gray mustachio,
'Sure this swallow overhead
Thinks the Emperor's tent a shed,
And the Emperor but a Macho!'
Hearing his imperial name
Coupled with those words of malice,
Half in anger, half in shame,
Forth the great campaigner came
Slowly from his canvas palace.
'Let no hand the bird molest,'
Said he solemnly, 'nor hurt her!'
Adding then, by way of jest,
'Golondrina is my guest,
'T is the wife of some deserter!'
Swift as bowstring speeds a shaft,
Through the camp was spread the rumor,
And the soldiers, as they quaffed
Flemish beer at dinner, laughed
At the Emperor's pleasant humor.
So unharmed and unafraid
Sat the swallow still and brooded,
Till the constant cannonade
Through the walls a breach had made,
And the siege was thus concluded.
Then the army, elsewhere bent,
Struck its tents as if disbanding,
Only not the Emperor's tent,
For he ordered, ere he went,
Very curtly, 'Leave it standing!'
So it stood there all alone,
Loosely flapping, torn and tattered,
Till the brood was fledged and flown,
Singing o'er those walls of stone
Which the cannon-shot had shattered.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Song Of The Jade Cup
A jade cup was broken because old age came
too soon to give fulfilment to hopes; after drinking
three cups of wine I wiped my sword and
started to dance under an autumn moon first
singing in a high voice then unable to halt
tears coming; I remember the day when first
I was summoned to court and I was feasted splendidly
writing poems in praise of the Emperor, making
jokes with officials around several times changing
my horse, taking the best from the
imperial stables; with my whip studded with
jade and coral presented to me by the Emperor,
my life was free and easy, people calling me
the "Banished Immortal." Hsi Shih was good
at smiling as well as frowning, useless
for ordinary girls to try and imitate her.
Surely it was only her loveliness the king adored,
but unfortunately jealousy within the palace
led to her death.
Emperor Of The Highway
I am the emperor of the highway
I wield the universal will
One might chance to overlook on my divineness
Unless Im sitting in the imperial poupe de ville
I am the emperor of the highway
Strapped with foolish mortals such as these
I need never indicate my intentions
I can stop and go and turn just as I please
For I am the emperor of the highway
Hold!
Methinks that thou hast driven too far
I am the royal prince of foreign sports cars
Better that I should drive a wheelchair or jog
Than to be blown off by a regal road hog
I am the emperor of the highway
(where did you ever get that gas sucking pig of a car? )
This time my friend, you are outclassed
(any real man would drive a stick shift)
For my uncle is the duke of the state police
(cut me off again and I will punch your lights out)
And he will place his royal boot upon your ass
(this is my exit, we shall meet another day)
Dont forget whos emperor of the highway
For I am the emperor of the highway!
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song of Unending Sorrow.
China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,
Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding,
Till a little child of the Yang clan, hardly even grown,
Bred in an inner chamber, with no one knowing her,
But with graces granted by heaven and not to be concealed,
At last one day was chosen for the imperial household.
If she but turned her head and smiled, there were cast a hundred spells,
And the powder and paint of the Six Palaces faded into nothing.
...It was early spring. They bathed her in the FlowerPure Pool,
Which warmed and smoothed the creamy-tinted crystal of her skin,
And, because of her languor, a maid was lifting her
When first the Emperor noticed her and chose her for his bride.
The cloud of her hair, petal of her cheek, gold ripples of her crown when she moved,
Were sheltered on spring evenings by warm hibiscus curtains;
But nights of spring were short and the sun arose too soon,
And the Emperor, from that time forth, forsook his early hearings
And lavished all his time on her with feasts and revelry,
His mistress of the spring, his despot of the night.
There were other ladies in his court, three thousand of rare beauty,
But his favours to three thousand were concentered in one body.
By the time she was dressed in her Golden Chamber, it would be almost evening;
And when tables were cleared in the Tower of Jade, she would loiter, slow with wine.
Her sisters and her brothers all were given titles;
And, because she so illumined and glorified her clan,
She brought to every father, every mother through the empire,
Happiness when a girl was born rather than a boy.
...High rose Li Palace, entering blue clouds,
And far and wide the breezes carried magical notes
Of soft song and slow dance, of string and bamboo music.
The Emperor's eyes could never gaze on her enough-
Till war-drums, booming from Yuyang, shocked the whole earth
And broke the tunes of The Rainbow Skirt and the Feathered Coat.
The Forbidden City, the nine-tiered palace, loomed in the dust
From thousands of horses and chariots headed southwest.
The imperial flag opened the way, now moving and now pausing- -
But thirty miles from the capital, beyond the western gate,
The men of the army stopped, not one of them would stir
Till under their horses' hoofs they might trample those moth- eyebrows....
Flowery hairpins fell to the ground, no one picked them up,
And a green and white jade hair-tassel and a yellowgold hair- bird.
The Emperor could not save her, he could only cover his face.
And later when he turned to look, the place of blood and tears
Was hidden in a yellow dust blown by a cold wind.
... At the cleft of the Dagger-Tower Trail they crisscrossed through a cloud-line
Under Omei Mountain. The last few came.
Flags and banners lost their colour in the fading sunlight....
But as waters of Shu are always green and its mountains always blue,
So changeless was His Majesty's love and deeper than the days.
He stared at the desolate moon from his temporary palace.
He heard bell-notes in the evening rain, cutting at his breast.
And when heaven and earth resumed their round and the dragon car faced home,
The Emperor clung to the spot and would not turn away
From the soil along the Mawei slope, under which was buried
That memory, that anguish. Where was her jade-white face?
Ruler and lords, when eyes would meet, wept upon their coats
As they rode, with loose rein, slowly eastward, back to the capital.
...The pools, the gardens, the palace, all were just as before,
The Lake Taiye hibiscus, the Weiyang Palace willows;
But a petal was like her face and a willow-leaf her eyebrow --
And what could he do but cry whenever he looked at them?
...Peach-trees and plum-trees blossomed, in the winds of spring;
Lakka-foliage fell to the ground, after autumn rains;
The Western and Southern Palaces were littered with late grasses,
And the steps were mounded with red leaves that no one swept away.
Her Pear-Garden Players became white-haired
And the eunuchs thin-eyebrowed in her Court of PepperTrees;
Over the throne flew fire-flies, while he brooded in the twilight.
He would lengthen the lamp-wick to its end and still could never sleep.
Bell and drum would slowly toll the dragging nighthours
And the River of Stars grow sharp in the sky, just before dawn,
And the porcelain mandarin-ducks on the roof grow thick with morning frost
And his covers of kingfisher-blue feel lonelier and colder
With the distance between life and death year after year;
And yet no beloved spirit ever visited his dreams.
...At Lingqiong lived a Taoist priest who was a guest of heaven,
Able to summon spirits by his concentrated mind.
And people were so moved by the Emperor's constant brooding
That they besought the Taoist priest to see if he could find her.
He opened his way in space and clove the ether like lightning,
Up to heaven, under the earth, looking everywhere.
Above, he searched the Green Void, below, the Yellow Spring;
But he failed, in either place, to find the one he looked for.
And then he heard accounts of an enchanted isle at sea,
A part of the intangible and incorporeal world,
With pavilions and fine towers in the five-coloured air,
And of exquisite immortals moving to and fro,
And of one among them-whom they called The Ever True-
With a face of snow and flowers resembling hers he sought.
So he went to the West Hall's gate of gold and knocked at the jasper door
And asked a girl, called Morsel-of-Jade, to tell The Doubly- Perfect.
And the lady, at news of an envoy from the Emperor of China,
Was startled out of dreams in her nine-flowered, canopy.
She pushed aside her pillow, dressed, shook away sleep,
And opened the pearly shade and then the silver screen.
Her cloudy hair-dress hung on one side because of her great haste,
And her flower-cap was loose when she came along the terrace,
While a light wind filled her cloak and fluttered with her motion
As though she danced The Rainbow Skirt and the Feathered Coat.
And the tear-drops drifting down her sad white face
Were like a rain in spring on the blossom of the pear.
But love glowed deep within her eyes when she bade him thank her liege,
Whose form and voice had been strange to her ever since their parting --
Since happiness had ended at the Court of the Bright Sun,
And moons and dawns had become long in Fairy-Mountain Palace.
But when she turned her face and looked down toward the earth
And tried to see the capital, there were only fog and dust.
So she took out, with emotion, the pledges he had given
And, through his envoy, sent him back a shell box and gold hairpin,
But kept one branch of the hairpin and one side of the box,
Breaking the gold of the hairpin, breaking the shell of the box;
"Our souls belong together," she said, " like this gold and this shell --
Somewhere, sometime, on earth or in heaven, we shall surely
And she sent him, by his messenger, a sentence reminding him
Of vows which had been known only to their two hearts:
"On the seventh day of the Seventh-month, in the Palace of Long Life,
We told each other secretly in the quiet midnight world
That we wished to fly in heaven, two birds with the wings of one,
And to grow together on the earth, two branches of one tree."
Earth endures, heaven endures; some time both shall end,
While this unending sorrow goes on and on for ever.
The End Of The Ming
Out in the hinterland the wild wolves call
While the soldiers shiver, strung along The Great Wall,
Their hands on their quivers, with their arrows, full flight
As they listen for the Manchu troops in the night.
They would beat off the peasants at the Shanhai Pass
As The Wall held firm, for the Ming's last gasp,
But the rebels beat the army of the last of the Ming,
In the city of the Emperor, the Old Beijing.
And they fired the city under Li Zicheng
While the Emperor despaired, he was called Chongzhen,
He threw a final feast for the House of the Ming,
And he called for his daughter, the Lady Chang Ping.
When the feast was over they awaited his word
But he slew each one with the point of his sword,
And his daughter too, bowed down to his will,
Then he fled the palace grounds, to Jingshan Hill.
And there with a rope on a myrtle tree
Chongzhen hung himself as high as could be,
While the leader of the peasants, this Li Zicheng,
Tried to found the Shun, as he buried Chongzhen.
But a General of the Ming, one Wu Sangui
He opened up the gates of The Wall one day,
And the Manchu troops streamed through to Beijing
Where they finished off the army, and Li Zicheng.
It was written in the stars, shining down on The Wall
That a dynasty rises as a dynasty falls,
But the soldiers on The Wall, now finished with the Ming,
Still keep a steady watch for the House of Qing.
For out in the hinterland the wild wolves call
And a soldier's duty is to guard The Great Wall,
For it little matters here about the Emperor's plan,
Just the wives and children of the soldiers of the Han!
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Best Emperor!
Besides poet, people birds, animals too love freedom;
Lion may be king of jungle but elephant is emperor!
This big, best emperor called gentle giant is humble
And accepts to bless devotes, escort Temple deities!
This huge animal emperor is kept as van in temple slot,
A humiliating sight to see, yet it humbly accepts the role!
For stomach satisfying food emperor surrenders, serves
And sustains with faith and gratitude to men and God!
A wonder to see freedom loving natural animal living so!
Is it a fate or destiny for the best emperor to live so here?
Child like and divine looking elephant is chiseled as God
Called as Lord Ganesha is animal, man and divine in one!
When will this big, best emperor get freedom from man
Know not, think I, whenever I see standing before Temple?
poem by Ramesh T A
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The Emperor Of Ice-Cream
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal.
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
poem by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dwarves of Tao-Chou
In the land of Tao-chou
Many of the people are dwarfs;
The tallest of them never grow to more than three feet.
They were sold in the market as dwarf slaves and yearly sent to Court;
Described as “an offering of natural products from the land of Tao-chou.”
A strange “offering of natural products “; I never heard of one yet
That parted men from those they loved, never to meet again!
Old men—weeping for their grandsons; mothers for their children!
One day—Yang Ch’ëng came to govern the land;
He refused to send up dwarf slaves in spite of incessant mandates.
He replied to the Emperor “Your servant finds in the Six Canonical Books
‘In offering products, one must offer what is there, and not what isn’t there’
On the waters and lands of Tao-chou, among all the things that live
I only find dwarfish people; no dwarfish slaves.”
The Emperor’s heart was deeply moved and he sealed and sent a scroll
“The yearly tribute of dwarfish slaves is henceforth annulled.’’
The people of Tao-chou,
Old ones and young ones, how great their joy!
Father with son and brother with brother henceforward kept together;
From that day for ever more they lived as free men.
The people of Tao-chou
Still enjoy this gift.
And even now when they speak of the Governor
Tears start to their eyes.
And lest their children and their children’s children should forget the Governor’s name,
When boys are born the syllable “Yang” is often used in their forename.
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 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.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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