At night I dreamt I was back in Ch‘ang-an;
I saw again the faces of old friends.
And in my dreams, under an April sky,
They led me by the hand to wander in the spring winds.
Together we came to the village of Peace and Quiet;
We stopped our horses at the gate of Yüan Chēn.
Yüan Chēn was sitting all alone;
When he saw me coming, a smile came to his face.
He pointed back at the flowers in the western court;
Then opened wine in the northern summer-house.
He seemed to be saying that neither of us had changed;
He seemed to be regretting that joy will not stay;
That our souls had met only for a little while,
To part again with hardly time for greeting.
I woke up and thought him still at my side;
I put out my hand; there was nothing there at all.
[36] THE FIFTEENTH VOLUME
[Having completed the fifteenth volume of his works, the poet sends it to his friends Yüan Chēn and Li Chien, with a jesting poem.]
[Written in 818]
My long poem, the “Eternal Grief,”[1] is a beautiful and moving work;
My ten “Songs of Shensi” are models of tunefulness.
I cannot prevent Old Yüan from stealing my best rhymes;
But I earnestly beg Little Li to respect my ballads and songs.
While I am alive riches and honour will never fall to my lot;
But well I know that after I am dead the fame of my books will live.
This random talk and foolish boasting forgive me, for to-day
I have added Volume Fifteen to the row that stands to my name.
[1] See Giles, “Chinese Literature,” p. 169.