by Gopal Sukhu
Our shining pendant belt gems clatter.11
Weights of green jade press mats white as yao stone,12
Sprigs of precious fragrances we bring in mixed handfuls,
Basil leaves cover the cooked meat offered on beds of thoroughwort,
With the sacrifice of cassia wine and peppered broth.
Lift the mallets, strike the drums,
Slow the rhythm for calming hymns.
But when yu reeds and se strings play, let the singing swell,13
Let the serpent limbs of shamans dance dressed in splendid robes,
Inundating the hall with their fragrances of pollen and herbs
Let every musician sound every note,
May the Lord find joy, pleasure, and peace.
2
“THE LORD IN THE CLOUDS”
雲中君
“YUNZHONG JUN”
A bamboo manuscript discovered in a Chu tomb at Tianxingguan in Jiangling, Hubei province, in the early 1980s carried a list of divinities to whom the Chu king offered sacrifices; one of them was Yun Jun 雲君, or Lord of the Clouds.14 Liu Bang, the first emperor of the Han dynasty, established sacrifices to a divinity called Yunzhong Jun 雲中君, but the shamans who performed the rites were not from Chu but from Jin 晉.15 If the two names refer to the same divinity, then it would put to rest Hawkes’s theory that Yunzhong Jun is the lord of Yunzhong Mountain in Shanxi.16
Wang Yi tells us that another name for the Lord in the Clouds is Feng Long 豐隆, the thunder god who appears in “Li sao” (lines 221–22) and in an early text called The Travels of King Mu (穆天子傳 Mu Tianzi zhuan).17 Wang Yi also mentions the theory that the Lord in the Clouds is another name for Ping Yi 屏翳, variously identified as a rain god, a cloud god, a thunder god, and so forth.
One of the Chinese words for shaman, ling 靈, consists of a graph for cloud at the top, three rain drops below that, and, at the bottom, the more common word for shaman, wu 巫. The character may indicate the primary role of the ancient Chinese shaman—rainmaker.
The Lord in the Clouds
After the thoroughwort bath, her hair washed in fragrant herbs,
In robes of many colors, hung with galangal,18
A shaman dances writhing—the god already within her,
His aura spreading in rays clear, unending.
Yes, he will take his ease in the Temple of Longevity,19
Paired with sun or moon, his light as bright.
Driving a dragon chariot, dressed in the colors of the Sky Lords,20
He soars now, wandering everywhere,
For as soon as the spirit descends in his splendor,
He rushes away, rising into the clouds,
Looking down on us in Jizhou and beyond,21
For he goes where he pleases over four seas—what limit has he?
Lord of our yearning, we sigh long sighs,
Our hearts worn out by sorrow after sorrow.
3 AND 4
“THE RULER OF THE XIANG RIVER” AND “THE LADY OF THE XIANG RIVER”
湘君湘夫人
“XIANG JUN” AND “XIANG FUREN”
Wang Yi believed that “The Lady of the Xiang River” was about the two daughters the sage-king Yao gave in marriage to Shun as a reward for his virtue, a sign that he intended to make him king. He did not identify the Ruler of the Xiang River, which he may have believed referred to one of Yao’s daughters. There is a story to support this view.
According to the Shiji, the First Emperor of the Qin, on his southern tour of sacred mountains, ran into a storm on the Xiang River near the place where it flows into Lake Dongting. There Mount Xiang stood on an island with a shrine at its foot dedicated to a goddess called Ruler of the Xiang whose mortal body was buried there. The emperor, angry that his progress had been hindered by the storm and assuming that the spirit of the shrine was responsible, asked an adviser to identify it. When the adviser explained that the Ruler of the Xiang was the daughter of Yao and the wife of the sage-king Shun, the emperor flew into a rage and ordered three thousand convicts to cut down all the trees on the mountain and paint the ground ochre to punish the goddess for violation of the law.
It is possible that the term Xiang jun (ruler of the Xiang) in the Shiji story refers to both women. A passage from “Youyu er fei” 有虞二妃 (The two consorts of Lord Yu) in the Lienü zhuan 烈女傳 (Biographies of exemplary women) of Liu Xiang uses the title Xiang jun to cover both women, whose names are E Huang 娥皇and Nü Ying 女英.22 Because of the differently titled hymns in the Chuci, however, some scholars concluded that the titles “Xiang jun” and “Xiang furen” refer to the sister who became the primary wife and the one who became the secondary wife, respectively. Tradition has it that the two sisters followed their husband Shun south. When he died there, they drowned themselves in the Xiang River, becoming river spirits.
Other scholars think that the Ruler of the Xiang River (jun 君, in Xiang jun, though gender neutral, is usually used for males) is not a woman at all but in fact the title of Shun, and that the two hymns, one where he speaks and the other where his wives speak, are in dialogue or contain dialogues. Who is speaking to whom (or thinking what about whom), however, differs according to the interpreter.23
There is a parallel myth, perhaps older, according to which the two women are described as daughters of the Lord of Heaven who reside in the Xiang River region. The Shanhaijing (Zhongci shi’er jing) has them living on Lake Dongting Mountain, wandering about the riverine landscape accompanied by high winds and storms. According to the fourth century poet and commentator Guo Pu 郭璞, the women in this myth have nothing to do with Yao or Shun.24 Elements of the various myths may well have merged over time to form new stories.
In my translation, a male speaks in the first hymn, a female in the second. This could mean that a male shaman pursues the spirit princess in the first hymn, whereas a female shaman (impersonating or possessed by the princess?) is pursuing a male (Shun?) in the second hymn. The fact that the speaker of the first poem throws belt ornaments, usually associated with men, into the river, and the fact that the speaker of the second hymn sacrifices a sleeve and inner garments, usually associated with women, seems to support this very tentative interpretation.25
The Ruler of the Xiang River
The princess does not set forth, she lingers,
For whom, alas, is she waiting on the islet midriver?
You of the beautiful form perfectly adorned,
Give my boat of cinnamon bark speed,
Calm the waves of the Rivers Yuan and Xiang,
Let the Long River flow softly.
I watch that princess in the distance coming never,
Playing panpipes, her thoughts on whom?
I am driving flying dragons, my chariot heading north.
I am turning now, taking the path to Lake Dongting,
Creeping fig leaves my banner, with lanyards of basil,
And on flagstaffs of lure leaf, thoroughwort flags.
I see Cenyang in the distance on the far shore,
Crossing the great breadth of the Long River I let my spirit fly,
I let my spirit fly, but it never reaches her.
A bewildered woman sighs long sighs for me,
Tears in torrents cross my face,
I long for you, Princess, in secret agony.
With cassia oars and thoroughwort hull,
I am cutting through ice and piled-up snow.
I am picking creeping fig in the middle of a river,
I am gathering lotuses on the top of a tree,
Hearts out of tune make matchmakers useless.
Love not deep makes it easy to part.
Water over stones, rushing rushing,
Dragons in the air flitting flitting,
If you’ve been unfaithful, I’ll be bitter forever.
You failed to show—“no time,” your excuse.
In the morning I gallop the riverbank,
By evening step slow near
the northern islet.
Birds inhabit the roof,
Water surrounds the temple.
I throw a cut ring of jade into the Long River,
And drop my belt charms on the shores of the Li.
I gather galangal on the fragrant islet,
To give to the woman who serves you.
Time gone you can never regain
For the moment I wander far and carefree
The Lady of the Xiang River
The son of a Sky Lord descends on North Islet.
I narrow my eyes to see him—it saddens me.
In light gusts comes the autumn breeze,
Waters of Lake Dongting ripple under leaf fall,
I climb a hill of white sedge to let my gaze run free.
We promised to meet, the splendid one and I,
to raise a tent for our night time.
But why would a bird perch on floating duckweed?
Why would a fisherman cast his net on a tree?
Fragrant roots grow by the River Yuan, thoroughworts by the Li.
I long for the prince but dare not speak.
I scan the distance. There he is, or is he?
I watch the water flow endless and slow.
What does an elk in an empty courtyard eat?
What does the flood dragon do on the shore?
At dawn I gallop my horses to the high bank
In the evening cross the river to the western strand.
If I hear the splendid one calling me,
I will rush away with him on a leaping chariot.
In the middle of the river we would build a house,
And roof it over with lotus leaves.
Its walls would be of lure leaf, its courtyard of purple cowry,
And we’d sprinkle pepper flowers through all the chambers.
Under cinnamon roof beams and thoroughwort rafters,
And in the angelica bedroom with its magnolia lintels,
We’d hang bed curtains of woven creeping-fig vines.
And spreading apart the entry drapes of basil,
We’d see mat weights of white jade,
Orchids scattered for fragrance,
A ceiling covered with aromatic roots fastened with cords of asarum,
A hundred herbs gathered to fill the garden,
And side rooms built for every fragrance.
But they come for him now,
the welcome party of Nine Doubts,
A flock of spirits like a cloud.
My outer robe I throw into the Long River,
My inner robe I drop on the banks of the Li,
And gather galangal on the flat islet
To give to the one far away from me.
Time once gone does not come back,
For the moment I wander far and carefree.
5
“THE GREAT MINISTER OF LIFE SPANS”
大司命
“DA SIMING”
Warring States–era records of sacrifices to a god called the Minister of Life Spans (司命Siming, or Minister of Fates) were discovered in Chu tombs at Baoshan, in Hubei province, during the 1980s.26 None of the records distinguish between great and lesser ministers of life spans. The same holds true for the sacrifices to the god during the Han and later periods.
The Shiji lists two sets of shamans—one from Chu, the other from Jin—who were responsible for maintaining regular sacrifices to the Minister of Life Spans, the only god whose name appears twice on the list. Some scholars speculate that the Jin god and the Chu god might have been distinguished by the designations great and lesser. Were that proven so, it would support the case of those who think that the Nine Songs were used, or even written, during the Han dynasty.
The Minister of Life Spans later evolved into the Kitchen God, who reports to Heaven about every household on New Year’s Day.
Siming, like Taiyi, is also the name of a star.
In the following hymn the Great Minister of Life Spans travels in the entourage of the Lord of the Skies, acting as a kind of forerunner. The female shaman seems for a time to share intimacy with him.
The Great Minister of Life Spans
He:
Open wide the Gates of the Sky,
I ride the dark crowding clouds.
Let the whirlwinds charge ahead,
And hailstones sprinkle the dusty ground.27
She:
The Lord circles and descends,
Leaping Hollow Mulberry to take me, a woman, for company.28
The Nine Regions swarm with mortals.
Whose long life or early death depends on me?
He flies high tracing slow rings,
In a chariot of pure qi,
with yin and yang under his reins.
In reverence and awe I attend on the Lord,
As he guides the Sovereign of the Skies
to the Nine Mounts,29
His spirit robes flowing,
His belt laden with cords of jade.
He:
In all the world of darkness and all the world of light,30
Common hearts know not what I do.
I pick the yao gem flower of the spirit hemp,31
To give to you who dwell beyond.
She:
Age slow as the gnomon’s shadow is already here,
We grow in time not closer but farther apart.
In a rumbling chariot he drives his dragons,
Galloping high, ramming into the sky.
Long I stand knotting cassia sprigs.
Yes, the more I think of him the sadder I am.
Sadder, but what can I do?
A day like this I wish would never end,
But fate is always fitting.
Whether we meet or part is not for me to say.
6
“THE LESSER MINISTER OF LIFE SPANS”
少司命
“SHAO SIMING”
“Autumn thoroughwort and lovage32
Grow in dense rows near the temple,
Green leaves, white flowers,
Their strong fragrance took me by surprise.”
Those people all have beautiful children,
Lure Leaf, what brings you such worry and pain?
Autumn thoroughwort dense and dark,
Green leaves with purple stems,
Beautiful women crowd your temple,
Yet your eyes quickly beckon only to me.
You entered with no warning, left with no good-bye,
You rode the spinning wind, cloud banners flying.
No grief greater than to live yet be apart,
No joy greater than love when it is new.
You in the lotus-leaf robe bound with basil sash,
Suddenly came and suddenly went
To spend the night in the suburbs of the God-Lords.
For whom are you waiting on the border of a cloud?
“We could have washed our hair at the Xian Pool,
And dried our hair by the side of the sun.
I looked for you, beautiful one, but you never came.
I sing facing the wind in loud despair.”
Under a peacock-feather canopy and halcyon banners,
You ascend the Nine Heavens in a chariot, the Broom Star in your hand.
Raise your long sword to protect young and old,
Our fates, Lure Leaf, are yours to decide.
7
“LORD OF THE EAST”
東君
“DONG JUN”
Most scholars agree that the Lord of the East (東君 Dong Jun) is the divinized sun. The Han court (employing shamans from the state of Jin) worshipped the sun under the same title. Another term for the sun is Xihe, the name of the solar charioteer, who drives his six-dragon team across the sky. According to some accounts, Xihe is also the mother of the sun, who originally gave birth to nine others. Archer Yi, alarmed that they were overheating the earth, shot those nine out of the sky. The original nesting place of the original ten suns was the fusang 扶桑 (meaning �
�handhold mulberry”) tree. After the death of his siblings, the remaining sun took his morning bath in Hot-Water Valley, also known as Daylight Valley (湯谷Tanggu or 暘谷 Yanggu), and used one or more fusang trees as a handhold to climb out of it. Some sources say he continued to live in the fusang tree. In this hymn the sun speaks, gratefully addressing the shamans (called shenbao 神保, or “spirit guardians” here) who made music and danced for him at his worship service.
Lord of the East
I, the sphere of light rising red in the east,
Shine on my fence of handhold mulberries.
Calming my horses I gallop steadily.
Night fades—it will soon be bright.
I ride on thunder as the dragons draw,
Cloud banners open in waves and fly.
Sighing long sighs I will soon be aloft,
With hovering heart, gazing back longing.
Yes, your voices and your beauty delight,
Those who see you find such ease they forget to go home.
Play your high-strung se in time with the drums,
Strike the great bronze bells till the bell frames rock,
As the chi flutes and the yu pipes sing.
I will miss you, spirit guardians, virtuous and beautiful,
Fluttering and soaring on halcyon wings,
Dancing together, unfolding your song,
In tune and in rhythm,
As the onslaught of spirits blocks the light of the sun.
In blue-cloud tunic and white-rainbow robe,
I aim my long arrow and shoot down the Sky Wolf,33
And bow in hand I turn and sink out of sight.
Lifting the Big Dipper to take the cassia wine,
And grasping the reins to gallop high and soar
Through vast darkness on my journey east.
8
“THE EARL OF THE YELLOW RIVER”
河伯
“HE BO”
The Yellow River, called He 河 in classical Chinese, was worshipped with sacrifices at least as far back as the Shang dynasty. According to a story from the Zuozhuan (Duke Ai, sixth year), Chu had not always offered sacrifices to the river:
When King Zhao of Chu was ill, a diviner told him that the cause of the disease was the Yellow River [spirit], to whom the king did not offer sacrifices. The grand officers requested permission to offer the river sacrifices in the suburban rites. The king, however, responded as follows: “In the sacrificial offerings of three generations, we have never sacrificed to forces outside our purview. Within the purview of the state of Chu are the Yangtze, the Huai, and the Zhang rivers. Come what may, I will not violate this principle. I may not be a paragon of virtue, but I have never done anything to offend the river.”
