No More Learning

Ts'ai Chi'h
THE petals fall in the fountain,
the orange-coloured rose-leaves, Their ochre clings to the stone.
52
? In a Station of the Metro
THE apparition of these faces in the crowd ; Petals on a wet, black bough.
Alba
As cool as the pale wet leaves
of lily-of-the-valley She lay beside me in the dawn.
Heather
THE black panther treads at my side,
And above my fingers
There float the petal-like flames.
The milk-white girls
Unbend from the holly-trees, And their snow-white leopard Watches to follow our trace.
53
? The Faun
HA ! sir, I have seen you sniffing and snoozling about
among my flowers. And what, pray, do you know about horticulture,
you capriped ?
"Come, Auster, come, Apeliota, And see the faun in our garden.
But if you move or speak This thing will run at you And scare itself to spasms. "
Coitus
THE gilded phaloi of the crocuses
are thrusting at the spring air. Here is there naught of dead gods
But a procession of festival,
A procession, Giulio Romano, Fit for your spirit to dwell in.
Dione, your nights are upon us.
The dew is upon the leaf.
The night about us is restless.
? The Encounter
ALL the while they were talking the new morality
Her eyes explored me. And when I arose to go
Her fingers were like the tissue Of a Japanese paper napkin.
Tempera
Io! lo! Tamuz!
The Dryad stands in my court-yard With plaintive, querulous crying.
Io!
Oh, no, she is not
(Tamuz.
Tamuz ! )
crying :
says, May my poems printed
She "
The god Pan is afraid to ask you, May my poems be printed this week ?
55
" Tamuz. "
be thisweek? "
? Black Slippers: Bellotti
AT the table beyond us
With her little suede slippers off,
With her white-stocking'd feet
Carefully kept from the floor by a napkin, She converses :
Connaissez-vous Ostende?
The gurgling Italian lady on the other side of the
restaurant
Replies with a certain hauteur,
But I await with patience
To see how Celestine will re-enter her slippers. She re-enters them with a groan.
Society
THE family position was waning,
And on this account the little Aurelia,
Who had laughed on eighteen summers, Now bears the palsied contact of Phidippus.
56
? Image
from D'Orleans
YOUNG men riding in the street In the bright new season
Spur without reason, Causing their steeds to leap.
And at the pace they keep Their horses' armoured feet
Strike sparks from the cobbled street In the bright new season.
Papyrus
Spring. . . Too long. . .
Gongula. . .
"lone, Dead the Long Year"
EMPTY are the ways,
Empty are the ways of this land And the flowers
Bend over with heavy heads. They bend in vain.
Empty are the ways of this land Where lone
Walked once, and now does not walk
But seems like a person just gone. 57
? THY soul
Grown delicate with satieties, Atthis.
I long for thy lips.
I long for thy narrow breasts, Thou restless, ungathered.
Atthis,
Shop Girl
FOR a moment she rested against me Like a swallow half blown to the wall, And they talk of Swinburne's women,
And the shepherdess meeting with Guido, And the harlots of Baudelaire.
58
? To Formianus' Young Lady Friend AFTER VALERIUS CATULLUS
ALL Hail ! young lady with a nose
by no means too small,
With a foot unbeautiful,
and with eyes that are not black,
With fingers that are not long, and with a mouth
undry,
And with a tongue by no means too elegant,
You are the friend of Formianus, the vendor of
cosmetics,
And they call you beautiful in the province, And you are even compared to Lesbia.
O most unfortunate age !
59
? Tame Cat
" IT rests me to be among beautiful women. Why should one always lie about such matters ?
I repeat :
It rests me to converse with beautiful women
Even though we talk nothing but nonsense,
The purring of the invisible antennae Is both stimulating and delightful. "
1910
GREEN arsenic smeared on an egg-white cloth,
Crushed strawberries ! eyes.
60
L'Art,
Come, let us feast our
? Simulacra
WHY does the horse-faced lady of just the un- mentionable age
Walk down Longacre reciting Swinburne to herself,
inaudibly ?
Why does the small child in the soiled-white
imitation fur coat
Crawl in the very black gutter beneath the grape
stand ?
Why does the really handsome young woman
approach me in Sackville Street
Undeterred by the manifest age of my trappings ?
Women Before a Shop
THE gew-gaws of false amber and false turquoise attract them.
" Like to like yellows !
nature "
61
:
these
agglutinous
? Epilogue
O CHANSONS foregoing
You were a seven days' wonder,
When you came out in the magazines You created considerable stir in Chicago,
And now you are stale and worn out,
You're a very depleted fashion, A hoop-skirt, a calash,
An homely, transient antiquity.
Only emotion remains. Your emotions ?
Are those of a maitre-de-cafe.
62
? The Social Order
I
THIS government official,
Whose wife is several years his senior, Has such a caressing air
When he shakes hands with young ladies.
II (Pompes Funebres)
This old lady,
Who was "so old that she was an atheist,"
Is now surrounded
By six candles and a crucifix,
While the second wife of a nephew
Makes hay with the things in her house.
Her two cats
Go before her into Avernus ;
A sort of chloroformed suttee,
And it is to be hoped that their spirits will walk With their tails up,
And with a plaintive, gentle mewing,
For it is certain that she has left on this earth
No sound
Save a squabble of female connections.
63
? The Tea Shop
THE girl in the tea shop
is not so beautiful as she was,
The August has worn against her.
She does not get up the stairs so eagerly,
Yes, she also will turn middle-aged,
And the glow of youth that she spread about us
as she brought us our muffins Will be spread about us no longer.
She also will turn middle-aged,
64
? Epitaphs
Fu I
Fu I loved the high cloud and the hill, Alas, he died of alcohol
Li Po
And Li Po also died drunk. He tried to embrace a moon In the Yellow River.
Our Contemporaries
WHEN the Taihaitian princess
Heard that he had decided,
She rushed out into the sunlight and swarmed up
a cocoanut palm tree,
But he returned to this island
And wrote ninety Petrarchan sonnets.
NOTE. II s'agit d'un jeune poete qui a suivi le culte de
Gauguin jusqu'a Tahiti meme (et qui vit encore). ^]tant fort bel homme, quand la princesse bistre entendit qu'il voulait lui accorder ses faveurs elle montra son allegresse de la faon dont nous venons de paiier. Malheureusement ses poemes ne
sont remplis que de ses propres subjectivites, style Victorien de
la
"
Georgian Anthology. "
65 F
? Ancient Wisdom, Rather Cosmic
SO-SHTJ dreamed,
And having dreamed that he was a bird, a bee,
and a butterfly,
He was uncertain why he should try to feel like
anything else,
Hence his contentment.
The Three Poets
CANDIDIA has taken a new lover
And three poets are gone into mourning.
The first has written a long elegy to " Chloris," To "Chloris chaste and cold," his "only Chloris. ' The second has written a sonnet
upon the mutability of woman, And the third writes an epigram to Candidia.
66
1
? The Gipsy
" Est-ce que vous avez vu des autres des camarades avec des
"
AStrayGipsy A. D. 1912.
THAT was the top of the walk, when he said :
"Have you seen any others, any of our lot,
"" With apes or bears ?
A brown upstanding fellow
Not like the half-castes,
up on the wet road near Clermont.
The wind came, and the rain,
And mist clotted about the trees in the valley, And I'd the long ways behind me,
gray Aries and Biaucaire,
"" And he said, Have you seen any of our lot ?
I'd seen a lot of his lot . . .
ever since Rhodez,
Coming down from the fair
of St. John,
With caravans, but never an ape or a bear.
67
singes ou des ours ?
? The Game of Chess
DOGMATIC STATEMENT CONCERNING THE GAME OF CHESS : THEME FOR A SERIES OF PICTURES
RED knights, brown bishops, bright queens,
Striking colour,
the in "L"s of board, falling strong
Beaching and striking in angles,
holding lines in one colour.
This board is alive with light ;
, these pieces are living in form, Their moves break and reform the pattern:
Luminous green from the rooks, Clashing with " X " s of queens,
looped with the knight-leaps.
"Y"
pawns, cleaving, embanking !
Whirl ! Centripetal ! Mate ! King down in the vortex,
Clash, leaping of bands? straight strips of hard colour,
Blocked lights working in. Escapes. Renewal of contest.
68
? Provincia Deserta
AT Rochecoart, Where the hills part
in three ways,
And three valleys, full of winding roads, Fork out to south and north,
There is a place of trees . . . gray with lichen, I have walked there
At Chalais
thinking of old days.
is a pleached arbour ;
Old pensioners and old protected women Have the right there
it is charity.
I have crept over old rafters,
peering down Over the Dronne,
over a stream full of lilies. Eastward the road lies,
Aubeterre is eastward, With a garrulous old man at the inn.
69 F2
? PROVINCIA DESERTA
I know the roads in that place : Mareuil to the north-east,
La Tour,
There are three keeps near Mareuil,
And an old woman,
glad to hear Arnaut, Glad to lend one dry clothing.
I have walked
into Perigord,
I have seen the torch-flames, high-leaping,
Painting the front of that church,
And, under the dark, whirling laughter. I have looked back over the stream
and seen the high building, Seen the long minarets, the white shafts.
I have gone in Ribeyrac and in Sarlat,
I have climbed rickety stairs, heard talk of Croy, Walked over En Bertran's old layout,
Have seen Narbonne, and Cahors and Chalus, Have seen Excideuil, carefully fashioned.
I have said :
" Here such a one walked. " Here Cceur-de-Lion was slain.
" Here was good singing. " Here one man hastened his step.
"Here one lay panting. " 70
? PROVINCIA DESERTA
I have looked south from Hautefort,
thinking of Montaignac, southward. I have lain in Rocafixada,
level with sunset, Have seen the copper come down
tinging the mountains,
I have seen the fields, pale, clear as an emerald,
Sharp peaks, high spurs, distant castles.
Ihavesaid "Theoldroadshavelainhere.
:
66 Men have gone by such and such valleys
" Where the great halls are closer together. "
I have seen Foix on its rock, seen Toulouse, and
Aries greatly altered,
I have seen the ruined " Dorata. "
"
Riquier !
I have said : Guido. "
I have thought of the second Troy,
Some little prized place in Auvergnat :
Two men tossing a com, one keeping a castle, One set on the highway to sing.
He sang a woman.
Auvergne rose to the song ;
The Dauphin backed him.
" The castle to Austors " !
" Pieire kept the singing " A fair man and a pleasant. "
He won the lady,
Stole her away for himself, kept her against armed force :
71
? PROVINCIA DESERTA
So ends that story.
That age is gone ;
Pieire de Maensac is gone.
I have walked over these roads ; I have thought of them living.
72
? CATHAY
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
? 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 " the others are full anyone says Return,"
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.
Wesay: WillwebelettogobackinOctober? 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. 75
? grief ?
SONG OF THE BOWMEN OF SHU
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
76
By Bunno. Very early.
? 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.
77 a
? 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 glorv could last forever
78
? each other, and listen,
"
Kwan, Kuan," the feel of it.
for the and early wind,
Crying
THE RIVER SONG
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
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, "
79 G2
? THE RIVER SONG
The imperial guards come forth from the golden house with their armour a-gl earning.
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 nightin-
gales,
Their sound is mixed in this flute,
Their voice is in the twelve pipes here.
8th century A. D.
80
By RihaJcu.
? 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,
81
? THE RIVER MERCHANT'S WIFE
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.
82
By Rihaku.
? The Jewel Stairs' Grievance
THE jewelled steps are already quite white with dew,
It is so late that the dew soaks
stockings,
And I let down the crystal curtain
my gauze
And watch the moon through the clear autumn. By Eihaku.
NOTE. Jewel stairs, therefore a palace. Grievance, there-
fore there is something to complain of. Gauze stockings, there- fore a court lady, not a servant who complains. Clear autumn,
thereforehehasnoexcuseonaccountofweather. Alsoshehas 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.
83
? 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-day's 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.
84
? POEM BY THE BRIDGE AT TEN-SHIN
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!
85
By RihaJcu.
? 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, 86
? LAMENT OF THE FRONTIER GUARD
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.
87
By EiJiaku.
? 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.
88
? more Sennin music, Many instruments,
like the sound of young
EXILE'S LETTER
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
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.
89
? EXILE'S LETTER
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 sheep's 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,
90
? EXILE'S LETTER
Pleasure lasting, with courtezans, going and com-
ing 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 inter-
rupting 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. 91
? EXILE'S LETTER
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.
92
By Eihaku.
? From Bihaku
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 rivej. 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
93 H
? FOUR POEMS OF DEPARTURE
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
"
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.
94
Sanso, King of Shoku, built roads. '
? FOUR POEMS OF DEPARTURE
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.
95 H2
? 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. *
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 ?
Surprised.
*
the other, now east, now west, on each border.
I. e. , we have been warring from one end of the empire to
96
? Sennin Poem by Kakuhaku
THE red and green kingfishers
flash between the orchids and clover,
One bird casts its gleam on another.
Green vines hang through the high forest, They weave a whole roof to the mountain, The lone man sits with shut speech,
He purrs and pats the clear strings.
He throws his heart up through the sky, He bites through the flower pistil
and brings up a fine fountain.
The red-pine-tree god looks on him and wonders. He rides through the purple smoke to visit the
sennin,
He takes " Hill " * the Floating by sleeve,
He claps his hand on the back of the great water sennin.
But you, you dam'd crowd of gnats, Can you even tell the age of a turtle ?
* Name of a sennin.
97
? A Ballad of the Mulberry Road (Fenollosa MSS. , very early. )
THE sun rises in south east corner of things To look on the tall house of the Shin
For they have a daughter named Rafu,
(pretty girl)
She made the name for herself
" Gauze Veil," For she feeds mulberries to silkworms,
She gets them by the south wall of the town.
With green strings she makes the warp of her
basket,
She makes the shoulder-straps of her basket
from the boughs of Katsura,
And she piles her hair up on the left side of her
head-piece.
Her earrings are made of pearl,
Her underskirt is of green pattern-silk,
Her overskirt is the same silk dyed in purple,
And when men going by look on Rafu
They set down their burdens, They stand and twirl their moustaches.
98
:
? Old Idea of Choan by Rosoriu
I.
THE narrow streets cut into the wide highway at
Choan,
Dark oxen, white horses,
drag on the seven coaches with outriders. The coaches are perfumed wood,
The jewelled chair is held up at the crossway, Before the royal lodge
a glitter of golden saddles, awaiting the
princess,
They eddy before the gate of the barons.
The canopy embroidered with dragons drinks in and casts back the sun.
Evening comes.
The trappings are bordered with mist.
The hundred cords of mist are spread through and double the trees,
Night birds, and night women,
spread out their sounds through the
gardens.
99
? OLD IDEA OF CHOAN BY ROSORIU
II.
Birds with flowery wing, hovering butterflies crowd over the thousand gates,
Trees that glitter like jade,
terraces tinged with silver,
The seed of a myriad hues,
A net-work of arbours and passages and covered
ways,
Double towers, winged roofs,
border the net-work of ways :
A place of felicitous meeting. Kiu's house stands out on the sky,
with glitter of colour
As Butei of Kan had made the high golden lotus
to gather his dews,
Before it another house which I do not know : How shall we know all the friends
whom we meet on strange roadways ?
100
? To-Em-Mei's "The Unmoving Cloud"
" Wet springtime," says To-em-mei,
" Wet spring in the garden. "
I.
THE clouds have gathered, and gathered, and the rain falls and falls,
The eight ply of the heavens
are all folded into one darkness,
And the wide, flat road stretches out.
I stop in my room toward the East, quiet, quiet, I pat my new cask of wine.
My friends are estranged, or far distant, I bow my head and stand still.
II
Rain, rain, and the clouds have gathered, The eight ply of the heavens are darkness, The flat land is turned into river.
" Wine, wine, here is wine "
!
I drink by my eastern window.
I think of talking and man,
And no boat, no carriage, approaches.
101
? TO-EM-MEI'S " THE UNMOVING CLOUD "
III
The trees in my east-looking garden
are bursting out with new twigs,
They try to stir new affection,
And men say the sun and moon keep on moving because they can't find a soft seat.
The birds flutter to rest in my tree,
and I think I have heard them saying,
" It is not that there are no other men But we like this fellow the best,
But however we long to speak
He can not know of our sorrow. "
END OF CATHAY
102
T'ao Yuan Ming. A. D. 365-427.
? Near Perigord
A Perigord, pres del muralh
Tan que i puosch 'om gitcur ab malh.
YOU'D have men's hearts up from the dust And tell their secrets, Messire Cino,
Eight enough ? Then read between the lines
of Uc St. Cire,
Solve me the riddle, for you know the tale.
Bertrans, En Bertrans, left a fine canzone :
66
I love have turned me out. you, you
Maent,
The voice at Montfort, Lady Agnes' hair, Bel Miral's stature, the vicountess' throat,
Set all together, are not worthy of you. . . " And all the while you sing out that canzone,
Think you that Maent lived at Montaignac, One at Chalais, another at Malemort HardoverBrive foreveryladyacastle,
Each place strong.
Oh, is it easy enough ? Tairiran held hall in Montaignac,
103
? NEAR PERIGORD
His brother-in-law was all there was of power In Perigord, and this good union
Gobbled all the land, and held it later
for some hundreds years. And our En Bertrans was in Altafort,
Hub of the wheel, the stirrer-up of strife,
As caught by Dante in the last wallow of hell
The headless trunk " that made its head a lamp. "
For separation wrought out separation,
And he who set the strife between brother and
brother
And had his way with the old English king,
Viced in such torture for the "
counterpass. "
How would you live, with neighbours set about
you
Poictiers and Brive, untaken Rochechouart, Spread like the finger-tips of one frail hand ;
And you on that great mountain of a palm
Not a neat ledge, not Foix between its streams, But one huge back half-covered up with pine, Worked for and snatched from the string-purse of
Born
The four round towers, four brothers mostly
fools :
What could he do but play the desperate chess, And stir old grudges ?
" Pawn your castles, lords ! Let the Jews pay. "
104
? NEAR PERIGORD
And the great scene
(That, maybe, never happened ! ) Beaten at last,
Before the hard old king :
" Your son, ah, since he died
My wit and worth are cobwebs brushed aside In the full flare of grief. Do what you will. "
Take the whole man, and ravel out the story. He loved this lady in castle Montaignac ? Thecastleflankedhim hehadneedofit.
You read to-day, how long the overlords of
Perigord,
The Talleyrands, have held the place, it was no
transient fiction.
And Maent failed him ?