Page:The works of Li Po - Obata.djvu/200

 Li Po the Chinese Poet

��The peerless flower of our race,

Who spread the mat and drew the curtains round

For a parting feast to comfort me journeying far.

You came to see me off, you and your company on horse back,

As far as the Inn of Cavaliers.

There amid songs and tinkling bells,

Ere our hearts were sated,

The garish sun fell beyond the Kun-ming Lake. x

In October I arrived in the land of Yu Chow,

And saw the legions of star-beaming spears.

The northland by the sea, abandoned by our dear em- peror,

And trusted to one like the monstrous whale,

That drinks up a hundred rivers at one draught,

Was crumbling fast to utter ruin.

Knowing this, I could not speak out,

And vainly wished I had lived in the fabled isle without care.

I was like an archer who, cowed by the wolf,

Sets the arrow but dares not draw the bow-string.

At the Gold Pagoda I brushed my tears

And cried to heaven, lamenting King Chao.

There was none to prize the bones of a swift steed.

In vain the fleet Black Ears bounced lustily,

And futile it was, should another Yo-I appear.

I prodded on, a houseless exile —

All things went amiss;

I met you and listened to your song and twanging strings,

Sitting ceremoniously in your flower-painted room.

Your prefecture alone possessed the peace of antiquity

And the balmy ease that lulled the mystical king Hsi to sleep.

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