[41] LODGING WITH THE OLD MAN OF THE STREAM
[42] TO HIS BROTHER HSING-CHIEN
[43] THE PINE-TREES IN THE COURTYARD
[45] PARTING FROM THE WINTER STOVE
[46] GOOD-BYE TO THE PEOPLE OF HANGCHOW
[47] WRITTEN WHEN GOVERNOR OF SOOCHOW
[48] GETTING UP EARLY ON A SPRING MORNING
[50] THE GRAND HOUSES AT LO-YANG
[54] A MAD POEM ADDRESSED TO MY NEPHEWS AND NIECES
[60] SONG OF PAST FEELINGS [With Preface]
[63] THE STORY OF TS‘UI YING-YING
[65] THE STORY OF MISS LI
[66] HEARING THAT HIS FRIEND WAS COMING BACK FROM THE WAR
[68] AUTUMN
INTRODUCTION
This book is not intended to be representative of Chinese literature as a whole. I have chosen and arranged chronologically various pieces which interested me and which it seemed possible to translate adequately.
An account of the history and technique of Chinese poetry will be found in the introduction to my last book.[1] Learned reviewers must not suppose that I have failed to appreciate the poets whom I do not translate. Nor can they complain that the more famous of these poets are inaccessible to European readers; about a hundred of Li Po’s poems have been translated, and thirty or forty of Tu Fu’s. I have, as before, given half my space to Po Chü-i, of whose poems I had selected for translation a much larger number than I have succeeded in rendering. I will give literal versions of two rejected ones:
EVENING
[a.d. 835]
Water’s colour at-dusk still white; Sunsets glow in-the-dark gradually nil. Windy lotus shakes [like] broken fan; Wave-moon stirs [like] string [of] jewels. Crickets chirping answer one another; Mandarin-ducks sleep, not alone. Little servant repeatedly announces night; Returning steps still hesitate.
IN EARLY SPRING ALONE CLIMBING THE T‘IEN-KUNG PAGODA
[a.d. 389]
T‘ien-kung sun warm, pagoda door open; Alone climbing, greet Spring, drink one cup. Without limit excursion-people afar-off wonder at me; What cause most old most first arrived!
While many of the pieces in “170 Chinese Poems” aimed at literary form in English, others did no more than give the sense of the Chinese in almost as crude a way as the two examples above. It was probably because of this inconsistency that no reviewer treated the book as an experiment in English unrhymed verse, though this was the aspect of it which most interested the writer.
In the present work I have aimed more consistently at poetic form, but have included on account of their biographical interest two or three rather unsuccessful versions of late poems by Po Chü-i.
For
