River, and South of the River—­
In both lands are the friends of all my life; Life-friends whom I never see at all,—­ Whose deaths I hear of only after the lapse of years.  Sad at morning, I lie on my bed till dusk; Weeping at night, I sit and wait for dawn.  The fire of sorrow has burnt my heart’s core; The frost of trouble has seized my hair’s roots.  In such anguish has my whole life passed; Long I have envied the people of Ch`en1 Village.

[22] FISHING IN THE WEI RIVER

[A.D. 811]

    In waters still as a burnished mirror’s face,
    In the depths of Wei, carp and grayling swim. 
    Idly I come with my bamboo fishing-rod
    And hang my hook by the banks of Wei stream. 
    A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear
    Softly shaking my ten feet of line. 
    Though my body sits waiting for fish to come,
    My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness.[1]
    Long ago a white-headed man[2]
    Also fished at the same river’s side;
    A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish,
    At seventy years, he caught Wen1 Wang.[2]
    But I, when I come to cast my hook in the stream,
    Have no thought either of fish or men. 
    Lacking the skill to capture either prey,
    I can only bask in the autumn water’s light. 
    When I tire of this, my fishing also stops;
    I go to my home and drink my cup of wine.

[1] See “Chuang Tzu,” chap. i, end.

[2] The Sage T`ai-kung sat still till he was seventy, apparently fishing, but really waiting for a Prince who would employ him.  At last Wen1 Wang, Prince of Chou, happened to come that way and at once made him his counsellor.

[23] LAZY MAN’S SONG

[A.D. 811]

    I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it;
    I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it. 
    My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it. 
    My clothes are torn; I am too lazy to darn them. 
    I have got wine, but am too lazy to drink;
    So it’s just the same as if my cellar were empty. 
    I have got a harp, but am too lazy to play;
    So it’s just the same as if it had no strings. 
    My wife tells me there is no more bread in the house;
    I want to bake, but am too lazy to grind. 
    My friends and relatives write me long letters;
    I should like to read them, but they’re such a bother to open. 
    I have always been told that Chi Shu-yeh[1]
    Passed his whole life in absolute idleness. 
    But he played the harp and sometimes transmuted metals,
    So even he was not so lazy as I.

[1] Also known as Chi K`ang.  A famous Quietist.

[24] ILLNESS AND IDLENESS

[Circa A.D. 812]