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 Chuu-i.

For leave to reprint I am indebted to the editors of the English Review, Nation, New Statesman, Bulletin of School of Oriental Studies, and Reconstruction.

CH`U YUUAN

[Fourth Century B.C.]

[1] THE GREAT SUMMONS

When Ch`uu Yuuan had been exiled from the Court for nine years, he became so despondent that he feared his soul would part from his body and he would die.  It was then that he made the poem called “The Great Summons,” calling upon his soul not to leave him.

Green Spring receiveth
The vacant earth;
The white sun shineth;
Spring wind provoketh
To burst and burgeon
Each sprout and flower. 
In those dark caves where Winter lurketh
Hide not, my Soul! 
O Soul come back again!  O, do not stray!

O Soul come back again and go not east or west, or north or south! 
For to the East a mighty water drowneth Earth’s other shore;
Tossed on its waves and heaving with its tides
The hornless Dragon of the Ocean rideth: 
Clouds gather low and fogs enfold the sea
And gleaming ice drifts past. 
O Soul go not to the East,
To the silent Valley of Sunrise!

    O Soul go not to the South
    Where mile on mile the earth is burnt away
    And poisonous serpents slither through the flames;
    Where on precipitous paths or in deep woods
    Tigers and leopards prowl,
    And water-scorpions wait;
    Where the king-python rears his giant head. 
    O Soul, go not to the South
    Where the three-footed tortoise spits disease!

    O Soul go not to the West
    Where level wastes of sand stretch on and on;
    And demons rage, swine-headed, hairy-skinned,
    With bulging eyes;
    Who in wild laughter gnash projecting fangs. 
    O Soul go not to the West
    Where many perils wait!