Classic Poem

The woman pulls the cart;
the husband pushes from behind.
In the cart is their son,
face as smooth as white jade.
The whole family is moving to the frontier,
not afraid of hardship;
it is sunset, the road is desolate:
they camp beneath their cart.
Mountains — cold and somber;
forests — swept by sighing breezes.
Suddenly, a dark wind swirls by ...
and the man falls prey to an evil tiger!
The woman quickly leaps after the tiger,
grabs hold of his foot!
She yells to the boy to bring a knife —
and slits open the tiger's belly!
Out fall the tiger's guts, and — the husband,
as if he has returned!
But still the woman's anger is unappeased:
even the lives of a hundred men could not bring him
back to life.
The local officials present a memorial to the throne
describing her righteous deed;
now a proclamation-banner flutters brilliantly
above her humble house,
and the Imperial Historian has recorded this miracle
of a thousand generations.
In human life, wealth and high station pass like birds
flying by;
how many people's names are recorded in glory
on the tablets of history?
Now, Chao Wu-hsing was magnificent as a poet and painter,
and when he was in the west, he learned the details
of this affair.
The sages of the past worked diligently
to instruct the people;
they strove to make known deeds of virtue,
as moral examples.
The Scholar of Chien-an has the mind of the ancients;
he has treasured this painting and protected it well.
Now he takes it out to show to me, and I sigh in admiration
for the ancient Way.
Brush in hand, I inscribe this poem, like decorating
an official cap
with dog-tail instead of sable!