Classic Poem

A peacock flew to the south-east,
A mile he flew, and once he stopped.
" At thirteen I learnt to weave silk.
At fourteen I learnt to make clothes.
At fifteen I could play the flat harp,
At sixteen I knew the Odes and Book
At seventeen I was made your wife;
From care and sorrow my heart was never free,
For you went off to be sheriff in the town;
I stayed behind, but my love did not change.
I was left alone in an empty bridal-room —
It was not often that we two could meet.
At cock-crow I entered the loom to weave;
Night after night. I toiled and got no rest.
In three days I would finish five bits,
And yet the Great One chid me for being slow.
Husband, it is not because I weave too slowly
That I find it hard to be a wife in your house!
I said to myself, " I will not be driven away."
Yet if I stay, what use will it be?
Go then quickly, speak to the lady my mistress,
And while there is time, let me return to my home. "
The Sheriff listened to her words.
Up to the Hall he went and, " Mother, " he said,
" The signs of my birth marked me for a humble course;
Yet luck was with me when I took this girl to wife.
Our hair was plaited, we shared pillow and mat,
Swore friendship until the Yellow Springs of Death.
We have served you together two years or three —
Since the beginning, only so little a while,
In nothing has the girl offended nor done amiss.
What has happened to bring trouble between you? "
Then spoke the Sheriff's mother:
" Come, my son, what strange talk is this?
Your wife is fickle-hearted and ill-bred,
Headstrong in all her ways,
And I have long been planning and worrying
How I might free you of this stubborn girl.
Our neighbour to eastward has a steadfast daughter;
She calls herself Lofu of the land of Ch'in,
The loveliest limbs that ever yet you saw!
Let mother get her for you to be your wife.
And as soon as may be, send the other away —
Send her quickly and do not let her bide. "
Long the Sheriff knelt down before her,
Bowed before his mother; his eyes drooped to the floor.
" Mother, if you send this wife away,
I will live single all the days of my life. "
And when his mother heard him,
She was very angry and beat with a cudgel on the bed,
And " Little son, " she said, " are you not afraid?
Dare you answer me in such a wife's praise?
Though neither love nor duty move you to obey me,
Do not dream that I will let you work your will. "
He did not speak, he made no cry.
Twice he bowed, and went back to his room,
He lifted up his voice to speak with his young bride,
But his breath caught and the words would not come.
" It is not I that would send you away,
It is my mother that has scolded and harried me.
Do you live at your father's, just for a little while,
For I must be going to take my orders in the town —
Not for long; I shall soon be coming home,
And when I am home, I will fetch you back again,
Think well of what I have said,
Turn it over in your thoughts and do not disobey me. "
The young wife spoke to the Sheriff of the town;
" Give me no more of this foolish tangled talk.
Long ago, when the year was at its spring,
I left my father and came to your grand home.
I obeyed my mistress in every task I plied;
In doing or leaving had I any will of my own?
Night and day I strove, but trouble snared me;
I was fallen on evil days. Never in spoken word
Did I transgress or fail; as a daughter, ever
In tender service I waited on all her needs.
Yet even so she sought to send me away.
It is no use to talk of coming back.
These things are mine: a broidered waist-jacket,
With tassels hanging that shine with a light of their own;
And a red gauze, square-curtained bed,
With scented bags hanging at the four posts;
And shuttered boxes, sixty, seventy,
With green marbles strung on blue threads —
So many boxes, and none is like the last;
And in the boxes, so many kinds of things!
If I am vile, my things must also be scorned,
They will not be worth keeping for the after-one,
Yet I leave them to her, to take as a gift should she choose.
For henceforth we shall not meet again.
May you ever be happy and strong,
And for long years not forget our love! "

A cock crowed, outside it was growing light;
The young wife rose and tidied herself.
She puts about her a broidered travelling dress,
Takes what she needs, four or five things,
And now on her feet she slips her damask shoes;
In her hair are shining combs of tortoise-shell.
Her waist is supple as the flow of rustling silk;
At her ear she dangles a bright crescent moon.
White her fingers as a pared onion skin;
Redder her lips than the crimson sulphur-stone.
Slender, slender she treads with small steps,
More fine, more lovely than any lady in the world.
She goes to the Hall, low she bows her head;
But the stubborn mother's anger did not cease.
" When I was a girl, " the young wife said,
" I was brought up far from any town,
A wild thing, never schooled or taught,
And needs must shame a great man's house.
From you I have taken much copper and silk,
And cannot bear that you should drive me away.
To-day I am going back to my father's home;
And this house I leave in Madam's hands. "

From her little sister it was worse work to part;
Her tears fell like a string of small pearls:
" When new-wed I first came to your home,
You had just learnt to lean on the bed and walk.
To-day, when I am driven away,
Little sister, you have grown as tall as me.
Work for Madam, cherish her with all your heart,
Strive to serve and help her as best you may.
Those seventh-days and last days but one,
Do not forget what nice romps we had! "
She left the gate, mounted her coach and went;
Of tears she dropt many hundred rows.
The Sheriff with his horse was riding on before;
The young wife rode in her carriage behind.
A pattering of hoofs, a thundering of wheels —
And they met each other at the mouth of the great road.
He left his horse and sat beside her in the coach,
He bowed his head and into her ear he spoke;
Swore an oath that he would not give her up,
If for a little while she returned to her home:
" I for a little while must go to the town;
It will not be long before I come back again.
By the sky I swear that I will not abandon you. "
" Dear husband, " the young wife cried,
" I know that you have some little love for me
And that if it were your choice
I should not have to wait there long till you came.
You perhaps may be steadfast as a great rock;
I know that I am but a bending reed;
The bending reed, weak as a strand of thread;
The great rock, too mighty to move from its place.
I have a brother, my own father's son,
Whose heart and deeds are wild as a summer storm.
I fear he will not let me have my way —
Will thwart my will if only to cause me pain. "
She raised her hand, and long, long she waved;
The old love in each heart was new.
She enters the gate, she mounts her father's Hall,
Languidly moves, with no greeting in her face.
" Child, " cries her mother, and loud she claps her hands,
" We little thought to see you home so soon.
For at thirteen I taught you to weave silk,
At fourteen you could cut clothes.
At fifteen you played on the flat harp,
At sixteen you knew the Precedents and Rites;
At seventeen I sent you to be a bride,
And heard you promise forever to be true.
What is your fault, what have you done amiss,
That he will not keep you, but sends you back to your home? "
Then Lan-chih, ashamed before her mother,
" Oh nothing, nothing, mother, have I done amiss; "
And a deep pity tore the mother's heart.

She has been at home ten days or more
When the burgomaster sends a go-between,
Saying: " My master has a third son,
For grace and beauty none like him in the world;
He is eighteen or nineteen years old,
A lovely boy, gifted and of ready speech. "
Then said the mother to her daughter,
" Daughter, this offer cannot be refused. "
But the daughter weeping answered,
" When I left my husband's house.
He looked kindly upon me and an oath he swore
That come what might he would not abandon me.
And to-day, false and wicked should I be,
Were I untrue to this our great love.
Break off the parley, mother, without more ado,
While to the Sheriff a gentle message I send. "
Then said her mother to the go-between:
" In our humble house there is indeed a daughter
Was once married, but come back to us again.
If she was not fit to be a sheriff's wife,
How can she be worthy of a burgomaster's son?
Go further, seek a better bride;
If you cannot find one, come to us again. "
Not many days had the messenger been gone
When an alderman came on like quest.
" They tell me there is a lady of the house of Lan
Whose father's fathers long served the State.
My master would have you know that his fifth son
Is handsome, clever, and has not yet a wife.
His own alderman he sends as a go-between,
And his own clerk to carry you his words. "
And straight he told them: " In the Lord Governor's house
Has grown up this fine young gentleman
Who now wishes to be bound with the Great Bond,
And therefore sends us with a message to your noble house. "
The old mother was thanking the messengers,
Telling them at large of the promise her daughter had made,
But hardly had she begun her speech,
When the brother heard, and loud to his sister he cried:
" Girl, consider what thing it is you do!
First you were a sheriff's wife,
And now you can be married to a lord!
Wide as earth from sky is the space between:
Here is a splendour that shall brighten all your days.
But if you will not be married to this young lord,
What refuge have you, whither else shall you turn? "
Then Lan-chih raised her hand and answered:
" Brother, there is good sense in what you say.
I left my home to serve another man,
But in mid-road returned to my brother's house,
And in his hands must all my fortunes rest;
I must not ask to follow my own desire.
Though to the Sheriff I am bound, yet now, I think,
To eternity we shall not meet again.
Brother, I yield. Tell them that I consent.
The wedding may be made. "
The messengers left their couch, their faces beaming,
With a bland " yes, yes " and " so, so. "
They went to their quarters, to the Governor they spoke:
" We, your servants, have fulfilled your high command;
The words we have uttered were not without effect. "
When the Lord Governor was told of all that had passed,
His heart was filled with great mirth and joy;
He read the Calendar, he opened the sacred book.
He found it written that in this very month
The Six Stars were in fortunate harmony,
The Good Omen fell on the thirtieth day;
And now already the twenty-seventh was come.
" Go, my servants, and make this wedding for me. "

With urgent message they speed the marriage gear;
Hither and thither they whirl like clouds in the sky
A blue-sparrow and white-dove boat;
At its four corners a dragon-child flag
Delicately curls in the wind; a golden coach
Wheeled with jade; and dappled coursers prance
With trailing plumes and saddles fretted with gold.
The wedding gift, three million pence
Pierced in the middle and strung with blue thread;
Of coloured stuffs three hundred bits.
Strange fish in the towns of Chiao and Kuang
Were marketed; and up to the Governor's gate
March four or five hundred serving men.

Then said the mother:
" Daughter dear, this moment a letter has come,
Saying to-morrow my Lord will fetch you away.
How comes it that you are not making your dress?
You would not like it if the wedding had to wait! "
No word did the daughter speak.
With her handkerchief she covered her face and wept;
The tears crept down like the tide on a sea-shore.
From its dark corner she shifts her glassy bed,
And under the garden window she sets it down.
With her left hand she wields the flat shears,
In her right hand she holds the fine brocade.
In the morning she sews a heavy, broidered skirt;
In the evening she has finished her thin damask gown.
The day was over, and she in the gathering gloom,
With aching soul, stood at the door and wept.

When the Sheriff heard of what had passed,
He begged leave to return for a little while.
He had not spurred two leagues or three.
When his harnessed horse raised a doleful moan.
The young wife knew the horse's neigh,
She put on her shoes, she hastened down the road.
Woefully they looked at each other from afar,
When each saw it was his dear one that had come.
She raised her hand, she struck the horse's saddle,
Wailing and sobbing as though her heart would break.
" Since you left me, " she said,
" Things happen — one could not tell it would be so —
Yet it has happened, I have changed; and you would understand,
If only you knew. How could I keep my vow?
I have a brother, my own father's son,
He forced us to it; he broke my mother's will,
Gave me to another man, and you, my Lord,
Must ask no more of me. "
Then spoke the Sheriff
To his young wife:
" Well done! " he cried. " Well done to have climbed so high!
The great rock would have lasted a thousand years
Firm and square, the reed in a day was snapped.
From glory to glory will my fine lady stride,
While I go down to the Yellow Springs alone. "
Then answered the young wife, and to the Sheriff she said:
" What do you mean? Why do you speak to me so?
It was the same with both of us; both of us were forced —
You were; and so was I too.
In the Land of Death you shall not be alone;
Do not fail me in what to-day you have said! "
They held hands, they parted and went their ways,
He to his house and she to the door of her home.
(That death should ever keep us from those we love
Is terrible, more than words can tell;
Yet sadder, I think, a hundred thousand times
Is the lot of those whom the living world divides!)

The sheriff is back in his home.
He goes to the Hall and bows to his mother dear.
(That day the wind was very cold;
Cold and strong, it shook the flowers and trees;
A cruel frost stiffened the pansies in the court.)
" Mother, mother, to-day I go to darkness,
And you will live alone.
It was you, mother, who laid this wicked plot;
Cease to anger my ghost when I am dead!
May your life linger like a rock of the Southern Hills,
Your back be straight and your limbs ever strong! "
When the mother heard his talk,
The bitter tears at each word they flowed.
" O woe is me, will you that are of good blood,
Whose father's fathers were ministers at court,
Die for a woman? Little sense you have
Of high and low! Listen now to my plot.
Our eastern neighbour has a true and steadfast girl,
Whose grace and beauty are known to all the town.
I will seek her for you, you shall have her between dawn and dusk. "
The Sheriff bowed again and went his way.
Deep he sighed in the empty bridal room;
He was thinking of his plan and therefore sighing stood.
He turned his head, he moved towards the door;
Tugged by the grief that mounted in his boiling breast.

While horses neighed and the oxen sadly lowed.
The bride, she entered her tabernacle green.
Swiftly the day closed and the dusk grew black;
All was still and the third watch had struck.
" With the day that has ended my life also ends,
My soul shall go and only my body stay. "
She lifts her skirt, she puts off her satin shoes,
She rises up and walks into the still lake.

They went to the Sheriff; they told him of what had passed.
When his heart knew that he would not see her again.
He stood for a while gazing at a tall tree,
Then hung himself from the south-eastern bough.

The two clans buried them in the same grave,
Buried them together on the side of a flowery hill.
To east and west they planted fir and yew,
To left and right they sowed the wu-t'ung .
The trees prospered; they roofed the tomb with shade,
Bough with bough, leaf with leaf entwined;
And on the branches were two flying birds,
Whose own name was Birds of True Love.
They raise their heads and face to face they sing
Every night, till the fifth watch is told.
The hurried traveller stays his foot to hear,
The lonely wife rises and walks her room.

Listen to this tale, you men of the afterworld,
Learn its moral and hold it safe in your hearts.