Classic Poem

His Imperial Majesty, a slave to beauty,
longed for a subverter of empires;
For years he had sought in vain
to secure such a treasure for his palace.

Beauty

From the Yang family came a maiden,
just grown up to womanhood,
Reared in the inner apartments,
altogether unkown to fame.
But nature had amply endowed her
with a beauty hard to conceal,
And one day she was summoned
to a place at the monarch's side
Her sparkling eye and merry laughter
fascinated every beholder,
And among the powder and paint of the harem
her loveliness reigned supreme.
In the chills of spring, by Imperial mandate,
she bathed in the Huaqing Pool,
Laving her body in the glassy wavelets
of the fountain perennially warm.
Then, when she came forth, helped by attendants,
her delicate and graceful movements
Finally gained for her gracious favor,
captivating his Majesty's heart.

Revelry

Hair like a cloud, face like a flower,
head-dress which quivered as she walked,
Amid the delights of the Hibiscus Pavilion
she passed the soft spring nights.
Spring nights, too short alas! for them,
albeit prolonged till dawn —
From this time forth no more audiences
in the hours of early morn
Revels and feasts in quick succession,
ever without a break,
She chosen always for the spring excursion,
chosen for the nightly carouse.
Three thousand peerless beauties adorned
the apartments of the monarch's harem,
Yet always his Majesty reserved
his attentions for her alone.
Passing her life in a " golden house, "
with fair girls to wait on her,
She was daily wafted to ecstasy
on the wine fumes of the banquet-hall.
Her sisters and her brothers, one and all,
were raised to the rank of nobles.
Alas! for the ill-omened glories
which she conferred on her family
For thus it came about that fathers and mothers
through the length and breadth of the empire
Rejoiced no longer over the birth of sons,
but over the birth of daughters.
In the gorgeous palace
piercing the gray clouds above,
Divine music, borne on the breeze,
is spread around on all sides;
Of song and the dance
to the guitar and flute,
All through the live long day,
his Majesty never tires.
But suddenly comes the roll
of the fish-skin war-drums,
Breaking rudely upon the air
of the " Rainbow Skirt and Feather Jacket. "

Flight

Clouds of dust envelop
the lofty gates of the capital
A thousand war-chariots and ten thousand horses
move towards the southwest.
Feathers and jewels among the throng,
onwards and then a halt.
A hundred li beyond the western gate,
leaving behind them the city walls,
The soldiers refuse to advance;
nothing remains to be done
Until she of the moth-eyebrows
perishes in sight of all
On the ground lie gold ornaments
with no one to pick them up,
Kingfisher wings, golden birds,
and hairpins of costly jade.
The monarch covers his face,
powerless to save;
And as he turns to look back,
tears and blood flow mingled together.

Exile

Across vast stretches of yellow sand
with whistling winds,
Across cloud-capped mountaintops
they make their way.
Few indeed are the travelers
who reach the heights of Mount Emei;
The bright gleam of the standards
grows fainter day by day.
Dark the Sichuan waters,
dark the Sichuan hills;
Daily and nightly his Majesty
is consumed by bitter grief
Traveling along, the very brightness
of the moon saddens his heart,
And the sound of a bell through the evening rain
severs his viscera in twain.

Return

Time passes, days go by, and once again
he is there at the well-known spot,
And there he lingers on, unable
to tear himself wholly away.
But from the clods of earth
at the foot of the Mawei hill,
No sign of her lovely face appears,
only the place of death
The eyes of sovereign and minister meet,
and robes are wet with tears.
Eastward they depart and hurry on
to the capital at full speed.

Home

There is the pool, and there are the flowers,
as of old.
There is the hibiscus of the pavilion,
there are the willows of the palace
In the hibiscus he sees her face,
in the willow he sees her eyebrows:
How in the presence of these
should tears not flow —
In spring amid the flowers
of the peach and plum,
In autumn rains when the leaves
of the wutong fall?
To the south of the western palace
are many trees,
And when their leaves cover the steps,
no one now sweeps them away.
The hair of the Pear-Garden musicians
is white as though with age;
The guardians of the Pepper Chamber
seem to him no longer young
Where fireflies flit through the hall,
he sits in silent grief;
Alone, the lamp-wick burnt out,
he is still unable to sleep.
Slowly pass the watches,
for the nights are now too long,
And brightly shine the constellations,
as though dawn would never come
Cold settles upon the duck-and-drake tiles,
and thick hoar-frost,
The kingfisher coverlet is chill,
with none to share its warmth.
Parted by life and death,
time still goes on,
But never once does her spirit come back
to visit him in dreams.

Spirit-Land

A Taoist priest of Linchong,
of the Hongdu school,
Was able, by his perfect art, to summon
the spirits of the dead
Anxious to relieve the fretting mind
of his sovereign,
This magician receives orders
to urge a diligent quest
Borne on the clouds, charioted upon the ether,
he rushes with the speed of lightning
High up to heaven, low down to earth,
seeking everywhere
Above, he searches the empyrean;
below, the Yellow Springs,
But nowhere in these vast areas
can her place be found
At length he hears of an Isle of the Blest
away in mid-ocean,
Lying in realms of vacuity,
dimly to be descried.
There gaily decorated buildings
rise up like rainbow clouds,
And there many gentle and beautiful Immortals
pass their days in peace
Among them is one whose name
sounds upon lips as Eternal,
And by her snow-white skin and flowerlike face
he knows that this is she
Knocking at the jade door
at the western gate of the golden palace,
He bids a fair waiting-maid announce him
to her mistress, fairer still
She, hearing of this embassy
sent by the Son of Heaven,
Starts up from her dreams
among the tapestry curtains
Grasping her clothes and pushing away the pillow,
she arises in haste,
And begins to adorn herself
with pearls and jewels.
Her cloudlike coiffure, disheveled,
shows that she has just risen from sleep,
And with her flowery headdress awry,
she passes into the hall.
The sleeves of her immortal robes
are filled out by the breeze,
As once more she seems to dance
to the " Rainbow Skirt and Feather Jacket "
Her features are fixed and calm,
though myriad tears fall,
Wetting a spray of pear-bloom,
as it were with the raindrops of spring
Subduing her emotions, restraining her grief,
she tenders thanks to his Majesty,
Saying-how since they parted
she has missed his form and voice;
And how, although their love on earth
has so soon come to an end;
The days and months among the Blest
are still of long duration
And now she turns and gazes
towards the abode of mortals,
But cannot discern the Imperial city
lost in the dust and haze
Then she takes out the old keepsakes,
tokens of undying love,
A gold hairpin, an enamel brooch,
and bids the magician carry these back
One half of the hairpin she keeps,
and one half of the enamel brooch,
Breaking with her hands the yellow gold,
and dividing the enamel in two
" Tell him, " she said, " to be firm of heart,
as this gold and enamel,
And then in heaven or on earth below
we two may meet once more. "
At parting, she confided to the magician
many earnest messages of love,
Among the rest recalling a pledge
mutually understood;
How on the seventh day of the seventh moon,
in the Hall of Immortality,
At midnight, when none were near,
he had whispered in her ear,
" I swear that we will ever fly
like the one-winged birds,
Or grow united like the tree
with branches which twine together. "
Heaven and Earth, long-lasting as they are,
will some day pass away;
But this great wrong shall stretch out for ever,
endless, for ever and ay