BOOK XI

_The Odes of Ts'in_

CELEBRATING THE OPULENCE OF THE LORDS OF TS'IN

Our ruler to the hunt proceeds; And black as iron are his steeds That heed the charioteer's command, Who holds the six reins in his hand.

His favorites follow to the chase, Rejoicing in his special grace.

The season's males, alarmed, arise-- The season's males, of wondrous size.

Driven by the beaters, forth they spring, Soon caught within the hunters' ring.

"Drive on their left," the ruler cries; And to its mark his arrow flies.

The hunting done, northward he goes; And in the park the driver shows The horses' points, and his own skill That rules and guides them at his will.

Light cars whose teams small bells display, The long- and short-mouthed dogs convey.

A COMPLAINT

He lodged us in a s.p.a.cious house, And plenteous was our fare.

But now at every frugal meal There's not a sc.r.a.p to spare.

Alas! alas that this good man Could not go on as he began!

A WIFE'S GRIEF BECAUSE OF HER HUSBAND'S ABSENCE

The falcon swiftly seeks the north, And forest gloom that sent it forth.

Since I no more my husband see, My heart from grief is never free.

O how is it, I long to know, That he, my lord, forgets me so?

Bushy oaks on the mountain grow, And six elms where the ground is low.

But I, my husband seen no more, My sad and joyless fate deplore.

O how is it, I long to know, That he, my lord, forgets me so?

The hills the bushy wild plums show, And pear-trees grace the ground below.

But, with my husband from me gone, As drunk with grief, I dwell alone.

Oh how is it, I long to know, That he, my lord, forgets me so?

LAMENT FOR THREE BROTHERS

They flit about, the yellow birds, And rest upon the jujubes find.

Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, Alive to awful death consigned?

'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 'Twas sad the first, Yen-seih to see.

He stood alone; a hundred men Could show no other such as he.

When to the yawning grave he came, Terror unnerved and shook his frame.

Why thus destroy our n.o.blest men, To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!

To save Yen-seih from death, we would A hundred lives have freely given.

They flit about, the yellow birds, And on the mulberry-trees rest find.

Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, Alive to awful death consigned?

'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 'Twas sad the next, Chung-hang to see.

When on him pressed a hundred men, A match for all of them was he.

When to the yawning grave he came, Terror unnerved and shook his frame.

Why thus destroy our n.o.blest men, To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!

To save Chung-hang from death, we would A hundred lives have freely given.

They flit about, the yellow birds, And rest upon the thorn-trees find.

Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, Alive to awful death consigned?

'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 'Twas sad the third, K'een-foo, to see.

A hundred men in desperate fight Successfully withstand could he.

When to the yawning grave he came, Terror unnerved and shook his frame.

Why thus destroy our n.o.blest men, To thee we cry, O azure Heaven!

To save K'een-foo from death, we would A hundred lives have freely given.

[NOTE.--The incident related in this poem occurred in the year B.C. 620, when the duke of Muh died after playing an important part in the affairs of Northwest China. Muh required the three officers here celebrated, to be buried with him, and according to the "Historical Records" this barbarous practice began with duke Ching, Muh's predecessor. In all, 170 individuals were buried with Muh. The death of the last distinguished man of the Ts'in dynasty, the Emperor I, was subsequently celebrated by the entombment with him of all the inmates of his harem.]

IN PRAISE OF A RULER OF TS'IN

What trees grow on the Chung-nan hill?

The white fir and the plum.

In fur of fox, 'neath 'broidered robe, Thither our prince is come.

His face glows with vermilion hue.

O may he prove a ruler true!

What find we on the Chung-nan hill?

Deep nook and open glade.

Our prince shows there the double _Ke_ On lower robe displayed.

His pendant holds each tinkling gem, Long life be his, and deathless fame!

THE GENEROUS NEPHEW

I escorted my uncle to Tsin, Till the Wei we crossed on the way.

Then I gave as I left For his carriage a gift Four steeds, and each steed was a bay.

I escorted my uncle to Tsin, And I thought of him much in my heart.

Pendant stones, and with them Of fine jasper a gem, I gave, and then saw him depart.