O YOU WHO SMILED AT ME THAT DAY WHEN I WAS SUFFERING, O YOU WHO RESCUED ME FROM GRIEF ... I WILL BUILD AGAIN THE HAPPY HOUSE OF MY CHILDHOOD, IN YOUR HEART. [Tu Fu]
THE MAIDEN LO-FO
GOING TO GATHER LEAVES, LO-FO PUTS UP HER GLEAMING HAIR. SHE PUTS A PEARL IN EACH PEARL EAR; SHE WEARS A DRESS OF PINK AND A DRESS OF YELLOW. HER BASKET BEARS A LITTLE TWIST OF SILK.
ON THE SOUTH ROAD THE GOVERNOR OF THE PROVINCE CALLS TO HIS MEN TO STOP THE HORSES. “ASK THAT PRETTY ONE HER NAME. FIND OUT HER AGE FOR ME.”
SAID LO-FO: “IN THE COUNTRYSIDE OF TSIN THERE LIVES A GIRL NAMED LO-FO. SHE IS NOT TWENTY YET, BUT NEITHER IS SHE A CHILD, FOR SHE HAS PASSED SIXTEEN.”
THE GOVERNOR HESITATES. “ASK THE LOVELY MAIDEN IF SHE WISHES TO COME WITH ME IN MY CHARIOT.”
LO-FO LOWERS HER BLACK EYES. “SURELY THE GOVERNOR HAS A WIFE IN THE SOUTH HE LOVES? SO EVEN IN TSIN, THE MAID LO-FO HAS HER YOUNG MAN WHOM SHE HAS PROMISED, WHOM SHE LOVES.” [Anonymous]
LOOKING INTO MIST
THE ASHES LIE CHILL AND GRAY IN THE GOLDEN BRAZIER. MY COVERLETS ROLL IN RED WAVES AS I TOSS IN MY BED. I THROW THEM OFF AWAY FROM ME; THEY FLOAT DOWN LIKE WAVES ON THE FLOOR. BUT I HAVE NO STRENGTH TO RISE AND BRUSH OUT MY LONG HAIR; EVEN THE JADE COMB IS TOO HEAVY FOR MY HAND. LET THE DUST SETTLE ON MY DRESSING-TABLE, DULLING MY GLEAMING BOTTLES.
NOW THE SUN BEGINS TO GLITTER THROUGH MY CURTAINS. ITS RISING WILL CAST BITTER SHADOWS OF SORROW IN MY HEART. I WISH TO SPEAK, I WANT TO CRY OUT; BUT FROM MY THROAT I CRUSH BACK MY CRIES INTO MY HEART. THIS IS NEW FOR ME, PAIN WHICH COMES NOT FROM TOO MUCH WINE, NOR FROM THE SADNESS OF APPROACHING AUTUMN.