[21] CHU CH`EN1 VILLAGE

[A.D. 811]

    In Hsuu-chou, in the District of Ku-feng1
    There lies a village whose name is Chu-ch`en1—­
    A hundred miles away from the county-town,
    Amid fields of hemp and green of mulberry-trees. 
    Click, click goes the sound of the spinning-wheel;
    Mules and oxen pack the village-streets. 
    The girls go drawing the water from the brook;
    The men go gathering fire-wood on the hill. 
    So far from the town Government affairs are few;
    So deep in the hills, man’s ways are simple. 
    Though they have wealth, they do not traffic with it;
    Though they reach the age, they do not enter the Army. 
    Each family keeps to its village trade;
    Grey-headed, they have never left the gates.

    Alive, they are the people of Ch`en1 Village;
    Dead, they become the dust of Ch`en1 Village. 
    Out in the fields old men and young
    Gaze gladly, each in the other’s face. 
    In the whole village there are only two clans;
    Age after age Chus have married Ch`ens1. 
    Near or distant, they have kinsmen in every house;
    Young or old, they have friends wherever they go. 
    On white wine and roasted fowl they fare
    At joyful meetings more than “once a week.” 
    While they are alive, they have no distant partings;
    To choose a wife they go to a neighbour’s house. 
    When they are dead,—­no distant burial;
    Round the village graves lie thick. 
    They are not troubled either about life or death;
    They have no anguish either of body or soul. 
    And so it happens that they live to a ripe age
    And great-great-grandsons are often seen.

I was born in the Realms of Etiquette; In early years, unprotected and poor.  Alone, I learnt to distinguish between Evil and Good; Untutored, I toiled at bitter tasks.  The World’s Law honours Learning and Fame; Scholars prize marriages and Caps.  With these fetters I gyved my own hands; Truly I became a much-deceived man.  At ten years old I learnt to read books; At fifteen, I knew how to write prose.  At twenty I was made a Bachelor of Arts; At thirty I became a Censor at the Court.  Above, the duty I owe to Prince and parents; Below, the ties that bind me to wife and child.  The support of my family, the service of my country—­ For these tasks my nature is not apt.  I reckon the time that I first left my home; From then till now,—­fifteen Springs!  My lonely boat has thrice sailed to Ch`u; Four times through Ch`in my lean horse has passed.  I have walked in the morning with hunger in my face; I have lain at night with a soul that could not rest.  East and West I have wandered without pause, Hither and thither like a cloud astray in the sky.  In the civil-war my old home was destroyed; Of my flesh and blood many are scattered and lost. 
      North of the