by Gopal Sukhu
They cannot escape it, they are like prisoners,
while the perfected move beyond mere things
to come face-to-face with the Dao.
“Most people wallow
in their pile of myriad likes and dislikes.
Those who live in the true are tranquil,
finding peace only in the Dao.
They abandon mind and transcend body.
Going beyond, they lose themselves
in the boundless void.
Riding high on the Dao,
going wherever it flows,
stopping only at the islets,
they give themselves over entirely to destiny,
Seeing the self not as something to own.
They live as though floating,
die as though pausing to rest.
Theirs is the calm of water that fills an abyss,
and there they drift like unmoored boats.
“Don’t think yourself special merely for being alive.
Nurture yourself on emptiness and float.
One of such virtue is unencumbered,
understands destiny and has no worry.
“An owl is a trifle, a twig, a mustard seed.10
Why trouble your mind over something like me?”
NOTES
1. This an attempt to translate the florid self-deprecation, appropriate for an officer of the court addressing the emperor, that begins the poem and which would best not be translated literally.
2. Sui is Bian Sui 卞隧, who was so insulted when Tang, the founder of the Shang dynasty, offered to abdicate to him that he drowned himself by jumping into a river. Yi is Bo Yi 伯夷, who refused to serve the Zhou after it overthrew the Shang and refused to eat the grain grown under its rule, eventually dying of starvation. Robber Zhi 盜跖 was a legendary bandit from Lu during the Spring and Autumn period. Zhuang Qiao 莊蹻 was a bandit from Chu during the Warring States period. Moye 莫邪 is one of two mythical swords, the other being Ganjiang 干將 (also the name of the sword smith), the former being the “female” and the latter being the “male.”
3. The image of Ji 驥, a legendary wonder horse harnessed to a salt cart and stock metaphor for the virtuous and talented minister, occurs in the Zhanguo ce, in SBCK, 5:44a. See J. I. Crump, trans., Chan-kuo Ts’e, 2nd ed. (San Francisco: Chinese Materials Center, 1980), 49.
4. “Envoi” translates 訊 xun, which is the equivalent of the 亂 luan in early Chuci poems.
5. Chanye or chanyan is an astronomical term for one of the years in the Chinese twelve-year cycle. Some scholars think that in this case it was the sixth year of Emperor Wen’s reign (174 B.C.E.), others think it was the seventh (173 B.C.E.). The beginning of summer (mengxia) is usually the fourth month of the lunar calendar. The gengzi day was the twenty-third or twenty-eighth day in the fourth month.
6. In the middle of the fifth century B.C.E., King Fuchai of Wu conquered the state of Yue. King Goujian, its king, fled to Mount Guiji, only to return and conquer Wu. He then became hegemon, a kind of strongman who maintained peace by keeping the other states in line.
7. Li Si 李斯, who was the famous minister of the First Emperor of Qin, was originally from Chu. He got into political trouble under the Second Emperor of Qin and was executed.
8. The five penalties were part of the penal code of Qin. They were tattooing the face, cutting off the nose, castration, amputation of the feet, and death. Li Si was in fact cut in half at the waist.
9. Legend has it that Wu Ding, the king of the Shang dynasty, had a dream about meeting a worthy minister. One day while out traveling, he noticed Fu Yue, a convict laborer, because he had the face of the man in his dream. He then took him back to the palace and made him his minister. Convict laborers were bound together like modern-day chain gangs, but more likely with rope rather than chains.
10. There are two schools of thought concerning this sentence. Some say that “a trifle, a twig, a mustard seed” is the displaced object of “why trouble your mind over (literally, ‘have misgivings about’).” Others take the phrase as the predicate of the suppressed subject “I,” referring to the owl. I base my translation on the latter interpretation.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I Lament It Was Not My Destiny”
哀時命
“Ai shiming”
Zhuang Ji 莊忌 was a Han poet famous for his fu. He was first patronized by Liu Pi, Prince of Wu (r. 195–154 B.C.E.), who was a generous patron of the arts but who at the time was plotting the famous rebellion of the seven princes against Emperor Jing (188–141 B.C.E.), who, before he became emperor, had gotten away with murdering the prince’s son. Zhuang Ji and a number of other literary men, including Zou Yang 諏陽 (ca. 206–129 B.C.E.) and Mei Sheng 枚乘 (d. 140 B.C.E.), decided that remaining at the court of the Prince of Wu would be dangerous and left to go serve in the court of Liu Wu, Prince of Liang (r. 166–144 B.C.E.), another great patron of the arts, who counted among his protégés Sima Xiangru (ca. 179–117 B.C.E.), one of the greatest of the fu poets. The Prince of Liang, however, was plotting to murder an imperial minister who had conspired with the emperor to block his ascent to crown prince. Zou Yang protested. Mei Sheng and Zhuang Ji did not. The Prince of Liang’s plot was eventually exposed and he fell into disgrace; they remained at his court nevertheless.
Despite the praise his work received during his lifetime (he was known as 夫子 fuzi, “the master”), of the twenty-four fu ascribed to Zhuang Ji, only “Ai Shiming” survives. Zhu Xi believed that it was written at the court of the Prince of Liang, but it could very well have been written at the court of the Prince of Wu. In either case it would probably have been taken as a critique of the reigning emperor, spoken on behalf of the aggrieved prince. Given the political climate, it could not have been read as a mere exercise in writing in the Chuci style.
The poem contains many of the elements of the poems that make up the Nine Cantos. The persona is very Qu Yuan–like, and the language borrows heavily from the Qu Yuan corpus. The difference is that it is by a known author and mentions Qu Yuan as one of the exemplars of the past. Otherwise such a poem could easily have been attributed to Qu Yuan.
I Lament It Was Not My Destiny
I lament it was not my destiny to live in the time of the ancients.
Why was I born in the wrong era?
I cannot bring back those who have gone before me,
And those to come I can’t arrange to meet.
With no other way to tell my heart’s sorrow,
I’ll inscribe it in the lines of a poem.
Sleepless all night, eyes wide open,
Heart full of secret worries, I have come to this.
I dare not speak my melancholy, for who
In the crowd would help me save the future?
Sadness harries my face and wearies my bones,
Old age, gnomon slow, overtakes me
Where I live in sad, obscure poverty,
Aspiration thwarted, frustrated,
By blocked roads I cannot pass,
And a broad river with no bridges.
I wish I could go to Kunlun’s1 Hovering Gardens
To gather flower of jade2 on Zhong Peak,3
And pick the long branches of the yao-stone tree,4
And see Langfeng and Bantong Peaks.5
But there is no sailing the rushing waters of the Ruo,6
I cannot walk the midway ending road,
Nor have I fins to ride the waves that go there,
Or wings to soar high.
So I withdraw into self-pity and mute yearning,
Walking back and forth, idle and alone,
Sad and confused, constantly brooding,
A wronged man with heart indignant,
In secret anguish, in pain upon pain.
Here I languish immobilized,
Hungrier by the day, with little to eat and grain supply cut off.
N
o one with me, I stand embracing my shadow,
A heart yearning for home beyond,
And no companion in drear emptiness,
Who will join me to savor what fragrance is left?
As the white sun descends to enter the sea,
I grieve that my life will not be long.
My chariot creaks, my horse is a nag,
I am crippled and cannot leave.
Out of place in this generation’s muddy waters,
Which is better for me—advance or retreat?
My cap towers so high it cuts through the clouds,
My richly wrought sword drags for miles at my side,
And my flowing robe is so wide
That my left sleeve catches on the Handhold Mulberry,7
And my right sleeve brushes against Imperfect Mountain.8
I find small range in this six-sided world,9
I carve the ax handle as did Fuxi,10
Calibrate compass and try square the same as Yao and Shun.
I wish to honor integrity and emulate the lofty,
But cannot look up to Yu of Xia and Tang of Shang.11
Although I’ve seen troubles, my principles endure.
Never would I harm the straight for the sake of the crooked.
A generation of factions is on the rise,
All leveled off with the same screed board,
Huddling shoulder to shoulder,
While the good keep their distance and hide,
For someone is making quail cages in which to keep phoenixes,
Where, even if they gather in their wings, they will not fit.
If the Spirit August will not wake up and take notice,
How will I state my case to prove my utmost loyalty?
If the vulgar in their envy block the worthy from view,
Who will even know how the worthy behave?
If I let my anger out to say the things inside my heart,
How do I know it will bring me good or ill?
Jade tablets are mixed in with clay rice steamers,
Long Lian and Meng Zou12 live in the same palace.
Since the whole world takes this as normal,
I am sure to suffer misery till the end of my days.
Tossing and turning alone in the dark I cannot sleep,
Lonely anguish fills my breast,
My souls flit about unsettled,
Indignation struggles in my heart,
My thoughts are gloomy, remorseful, uneasy,
The road is rock strewn and dark.
Alone I keep to this cramped corner,
Ever in pain and constantly sighing,
I grieve the night long and cannot sleep.
My temper seethes like a choppy sea,
I hold the engraving knife but do not use it.
I take up compass and try square without a thing to measure.
Let Qi and Ji13 run only the length of a courtyard,
And they’ll never be able to run broad plains.
Shut a gibbon in a tiny cage with lattice windows,
But expect no agility when it’s time to perform.
If you try to chariot up a mountain with a team of lame tortoises,
I know for sure you will never reach the top.
If you fire Guan Zhong14 and Yan Ying15 and give office to a servant boy,
The steelyard16 of sovereignty will falsely weigh.
You mix arrow bamboo17 with hemp straw,
You load your crossbow with tumbleweed to shoot through leather armor.
I am bent over and staggering under the burden of your folly,
I want to straighten up and walk but cannot.
Just outside, nets are set to trap me,
And tethered arrows aim to drag me out of the sky.
Sidling in with rounded shoulders I still do not fit.
If I pull my belly in further I won’t be able to breathe.
Wu Guang18 threw himself into deep water.
He did not take to the world’s dirt—
No ladle with broken handle will long be used.
I am willing to withdraw and live in poverty,
Making a home by digging a cave into the side of a cliff,
Washing my clothes on the banks of a river,
Soaked with morning mist and dew,
Clouds gathering to serve as my roof,
With a crowd of rainbows at dawn,
And flooding downpours at night.
Despair all over the homeless waste
Thwarts a distant view in the deserted wilds.
Down here sinking my fishhook in a valley stream,
I look to those who achieved transcendence “up there.”
I would befriend Red Pine,
Be the companion of Wang Qiao,19
Have Xiao Yang20 as my guide.
With white tigers guarding me fore and aft,
Through clouds and mists I would enter the blue,
Calmly riding a white deer,21
Eyes straight ahead, my soul at home in solitude,
Speeding onward and beyond never returning,
Daily onward to dwell in high distance,
With a delirious mind, but a wounded heart.
Soaring through blue clouds, a luan phoenix
Is out of range of tethered arrows.
Hidden at the base of a whirlpool the dragon
Will never find itself caught in a net.
He knows it is better to play in the crystal waves,
Than lust for fatal bait.
I would rather hide far away, out of calamity’s reach.
Whose attacks and insults could be aimed my way then?
Zixu22 died but got his revenge,
Qu Yuan drowned in the Miluo River.
Such men never change even when torn limb from limb,
And what could change the truly loyal and trustworthy?
My will beats within an upright heart,
I walk a straight line with no deviation,
I work the scales with no dishonest thought,
Weighing truly the light and the heavy.
I cleanse the chaos of filth,
I clear away layers of dirt to restore the pristine state.
My form is clean, what I’m made of is pure,
Immaculate, gleaming to the core,
But my contemporaries, fed up with me, reject my service,
So I’ll go far away and hide for now.
I’ll hide away, erase my every trace,
Keeping quiet with nary a murmur,
Alone in worry, anger, and trouble,
To whom could I go to vent my rage, to open my heart?
The darkening hour, the day almost over,
Brings melancholy sighing but no good name.
Bo Yi23 died on Shouyang Mountain,
Dying in the end, obscure and unsung.
A Taigong24 without King Wen
Would have gone to his death unfulfilled.
I want to reveal the white jade and ivory in my bosom, the jasper hanging from my waist,
But no one has eyes to appraise them.
I was born it seems just to pass between heaven and earth.
I will disappear leaving no mark.
An evil influence assails my body,
Sprouting sickly discomforts.
I wish but to see once more the bright days of sunny spring,
For I fear my time is running out.
NOTES
1. Kunlun 崑崙 here refers to the mythological mountain, not the real mountain range. During the Han dynasty it was thought to be the home of the Queen Mother of the West (西王母 Xi Wangmu). One of its peaks is called Hovering Gardens (懸圃 Xuanpu), because of the gardens that, according to some sources, float over it.
2. Flower of jade (玉英 yuying) is jade of such purity that it has magical powers.
3. Zhong Peak (鍾山 Zhong Shan) is northwest of Kunlun.
4. Yao-stone tree (瑤木 yaomu) would seem to be
a tree that is made of the yao stone, which is a white stone similar to jade.
5. Langfeng 閬風 is the northern peak of Kunlun, where immortals reside. Bantong 板桐 is another peak in the Kunlun range.
6. The Ruo River (弱水 Ruo Shui) is a legendary river in the extreme west near Kunlun. Ruo means “weak” and is a designation of rivers that are too weak (i.e., shallow) to hold up a boat.
7. Handhold Mulberry is the fusang (扶桑 or 榑桑) tree. It grows where the sun rises in the east and serves as a handhold when it emerges from its bath.
8. Imperfect Mountain is Buzhou Shan 不周山, a legendary mountain and one of the supports holding up the sky. Gonggong dashed against it during his battle with Zhuan Xu and damaged it, thus causing the sky to tilt. It is northwest of Kunlun.
9. “Six sided” refers to the six directions, east, west, north, south, up, and down.
10. Fuxi is written 伏羲 or 伏戲. He is one of the mythical god-lords, first of the Three Augusts (三皇 Sanhuang), and inventor of such things as hunting, fishing, and the domestication of animals.
11. In the Chinese text, the first Yu and Tang refer to You Yu 有虞 and Tao Tang 陶唐, Shun and Yao, respectively, though Yao is chronologically first. The second Yu and Tang are Yu, founder of the Xia dynasty (夏禹), and Tang, founder of the Shang dynasty (商湯), respectively. This use of both pairs of Yu and Tang is a play on words based on Chinese characters that are different but sound more or less the same. The first Yu and Tang abdicated in favor of men whom they saw as meriting kingship. The second Yu and Tang created and perpetuated hereditary monarchy, which some later thinkers considered the beginning of the end of good government.
12. Long Lian 隴廉 and Meng Zou 孟娵 are the type of female ugliness and the ideal of female beauty, respectively. This pair seems to occur nowhere other than in this poem.
13. Qi 騏 and Ji 驥 are the wonder horses that can run a thousand li a day, stock symbols of talented, virtuous ministers.
14. Guan Zhong 管仲 (d. 645 B.C.E.) was the prime minister of Duke Huan of Qi during the Spring and Autumn period. His reforms helped strengthen Qi and led to Duke Huan’s becoming hegemon.
15. Yan Ying 晏嬰 (d. 510 B.C.E.) was a celebrated prime minister of the state of Qi during the Spring and Autumn period.
16. Steelyard (權衡 quanheng) is the Chinese hand-held scale, a metaphor for just rule.
17. Arrow bamboo (箭竹 jianzhu) is the modern Chinese designation of 菎蕗 kunlu (Sinarundinaria nitida), sometimes known in English as fountain bamboo or umbrella bamboo.
