Anonymous, "Shih Ching"
Aug. 1st, 2007 04:54 pmThe Shih Ching, meaning “Classic of Poetry,” is the earliest anthology of Chinese poetry and is thought to have been compiled by Confucius. The collection contains 305 poems from the Western Chou Dynasty, which was from about 1122 to 771 BC, and a few other poems. (Encyclopaedia Britannica)
from the SHIH CHING
26
Cypress Skiff
Afloat in this skiff of cypress wood,
afloat upon the flow...
Aflame, aflame, I cannot sleep,
and yet my grief's my secret,
and I'm not without the wine
to make bold sport of this journey!
My heart's no mirror:
you would not find your face there.
Oh, and I do have strong brothers,
undependable,
I have taken my case before them,
and met only with their anger.
My heart is not a stone,
will not be rolled about, nor toyed with.
My heart's no doormat;
won't be rolled up and put away.
I am a woman, righteous, upright
as the hearty mountain plum.
There is no fault, no flaw in me.
My grieving heart pales with the moon,
yet hates all pettiness...
The petty folk who throng my door,
and all their petty insults.
Silenced, my words, in a brooding heart...
Yet every day, awakening, the pettiness anew.
Suns for but a day dwell, moons move...
Let them give way, since they will...
I'll wear my sorrowing heart,
the same unlaundered robe, each day.
I'm silenced here, but let words fly,
where body never may, to fray.
ANONYMOUS
Translated from the Chinese by J. P. Seaton
from the SHIH CHING
26
Cypress Skiff
Afloat in this skiff of cypress wood,
afloat upon the flow...
Aflame, aflame, I cannot sleep,
and yet my grief's my secret,
and I'm not without the wine
to make bold sport of this journey!
My heart's no mirror:
you would not find your face there.
Oh, and I do have strong brothers,
undependable,
I have taken my case before them,
and met only with their anger.
My heart is not a stone,
will not be rolled about, nor toyed with.
My heart's no doormat;
won't be rolled up and put away.
I am a woman, righteous, upright
as the hearty mountain plum.
There is no fault, no flaw in me.
My grieving heart pales with the moon,
yet hates all pettiness...
The petty folk who throng my door,
and all their petty insults.
Silenced, my words, in a brooding heart...
Yet every day, awakening, the pettiness anew.
Suns for but a day dwell, moons move...
Let them give way, since they will...
I'll wear my sorrowing heart,
the same unlaundered robe, each day.
I'm silenced here, but let words fly,
where body never may, to fray.
ANONYMOUS
Translated from the Chinese by J. P. Seaton
no subject
Date: 2007-08-01 12:39 pm (UTC)i really like that
and never read it before
great choice
no subject
Date: 2007-08-01 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-01 08:15 pm (UTC)