-translated by Huynh Sanh Thong
1 When all through earth and heaven rise dust storms,
how hard and rough, the road woman walks!
O you that rule in yonder blue above,
who is the cause and maker of these woes?
5 Drums in Ch'ang-am (Truong thanh) beat fast and moonlight
throbbed. (1)
Smokes surged from Mount Kan-ch'uan and clouds grew dim.(2)
The Emperor, leaning on his precious sword,
at midnight called for wall and set the day.
The realm had known three hundred years of peace --
10 now soldiers donned their battle dress once more.
At daybreak, heralds sped them through the mists --
the law outweighed what they all felt within.
Full armed with bows and arrows, they took off,
from wives and children wrenching their numb hearts.
15 Flags waved and drums resounded far away --
grief spread from chamber door to mountain pass.
Born to a race of heroes, you, my love,
discarded brush and ink for tools of war.
You vowed to capture strongholds for the throne --
20 your sword would spare no foe of Heaven's sway.
A man will fight a thousand miles from home
to earn his winding sheet: a horse's skin.
His very life, as weighty as Mountain T'ai, (3)
he'll drop in battle like so much goose down.
25 In war attire, you left and crossed the Wei, (4)
cracking your whip while howled the autumn wind.
Beneath the bridge the stream flowed crystal-clear.
Along the nearby path grew grass, still young.
I saw you off and sorrowed -- Oh, to be
30 your horse on land, your oat upon the stream!
The river's current washed no grief away.
The scent of grass left hearts still unconsoled.
We'd say goodbye, then we'd hold hands again --
we'd try to part but halted at each step.
35 My heart pursued you like the moon on high,
but your mind's eye leapt forth and saw Mount Ch'ien. (5)
The stirrup cup undrained, you waved your sword
and thrust it toward the lair of those wild beasts.
You'd hunt the rebels, following Chieh-tzu (6)
40 You'd quell the heathens, learning from Fu-po. (7)
Your coat was red as sun glow from the clouds.
Your horse was white as if all splashed with snow.
A jumbled din of drums and horses' bells --
we huddled face to face then had to part.
45 Here at this bridge we went our separate ways --
by the roadside, forlorn, I watched flags fly.
Carts formed the van, approaching Willow Camp.
Horsemen brought up the rear at Poplar Field.
In haste, the troops escorted you away.
50 Willows and poplars knew I broke inside.
Flutes piped and sent faint echoes from afar.
Flags filed and stirred vague shadows to and fro.
You followed cloud-blazed trails and went your way --
I watched the mountain chain and mourned our home.
55 Your way led you to lands of rain and wind --
mine took me back to our old room and bed.
We looked and looked, but walls had come between:
green mountains and blue clouds rolled on and on.
You turned your head, gazed backward at Han-yang. (8)
60 I strained my eyes, tried glimpsing the Hsiao-hsiang. (9)
Dense mists between Han-yang and the Hsiao-hsiang !
Vast forests from the Hsiao-hsiang to Han-yang!
We looked to find each other but saw none --
we only saw some green mulberry groves.
65 Mulberry groves all shared one shade of green --
of your own grief and mine, which hurt the more?
Since you left the realm of wind and sand,
where are you resting on this moonlit night?
of old and now, alas, all battle grounds
70 are empty wastes that weather beats and bites.
Men's faces shrivel under raw wind blasts,
and horses' knees collapse while fording streams.
For pillows all hug saddles or clasp drums--
all lie asleep on white sand or green moss.
75 Today han troops besiege White City's walls.
Tomorrow Huns will stalk by the Blue Sea.
Meandering streams appear and disappear.
Mountains in jagged ranges rise and fall.
From mountain peaks dew drops like rain at dusk.
80 Down in the streams, the fords still lie waist-deep.
Pity those who've long worn their coats of mail --
their faces bear the scars of homesick grief.
Inside brocaded curtains, does He know?
Who will depict for Him a soldier's face?
85 I think of regions you have roamed these years,
from the Bleak Desert to the Pass of Gloom.
You've braved wild woods where snakes and tigers lurk.
You've shivered dwelling with chill dew and wind.
When from a height you peer at distant clouds,
90 Whose heart can stay unstirred by longing pangs?
You left and journeyed to the far Southeast --
who knows where you are battling at this hour?
Those who have gone to war for a long time
have learned to treat their lives like blades of grass.
95 Repaying Heaven's grace, all fiercely fight.
Confronting perils, few will reach old age.
The moon shines hovering over hushed Mount ch'i.
Wind blows on the lonesome tombs along the Fei.
It howls and buffets ghosts of those war's killed
100 as soldiers' faces gleam beneath the moon.
O men, alive or dead, has anyone
portrayed your faces or invoked your souls?
The brand of war has marked fair streams and hills --
a traveler, passing by, feels wrung at heart.
105 All men must spend their prime on battle grounds:
after his hair had grayed, Pan Ch'ao came home.
I think of you enduring pains and hurts,
protected by an armor and a sword.
You rush through windswept shores and moonlit woods,
110 shoot arrows whistling past the horse's head,
and scale tall ramparts climbing up a pole.
A hundred hardships strew the path of fame.
You toil and struggle, never taking rest.
To whom can you confide what moves your heart?
115 I'm here at home, you're there at heaven's edge.
Inside this door, I live my fated life --
but were you born to roam at heaven's edge?
We hoped to join like fish and water once:
instead, we've split apart -- a stream, a cloud.
120 I never thought I'd be a soldier's wife,
condemned to wait and long for him at home.
You never meant to imitate that Prince
who went a-wandering and would not return.
why are those streams and hills diving us?
125 Why must we waste in sorrow night and day?
Endowed with grace an charm in youthful bloom,
we formed a couple bound by bonds of love.
Who has the heart to break young lovers up
and build a mountain wall between the two?
130 When you set out, the orioles were yet
to perch and nest upon the willow tree.
I asked you, and you promised you'd come home
When cuckoos would begin to sing again.
Cuckoos and orioles have all grown up --
135 before the house, some swallows chirp and peep.
When you set forth, plum blossoms on the branch
were yet to know the kiss of the east wind.
I asked you, and you promised you'd come back
when the peach tree would sparkle with red flowers.
140 Peach blossoms now have fled with their east wind --
beside the river, roses bloom and droop.
You told me once to meet you in Lung-hsi.
Since dawn I looked for you but saw you not.
I held back tears as leaves fell on my hair
145 and through the village rose the cries of birds.
You pledged to meet me by the Han-yang Bridge.
Till evening I awaited you in vain.
I held back tears as winds lashed at the gown
and the flood tide was surging over the shore.
150 I've written you -- I'm yet to see you here.
Dead flowers have scattered on the courtyard moss.
Green moss, green moss, more circles of green moss --
each step I take, a hundred feelings stir.
You've written home -- you've still not come back home.
155 The sun's sent tilted beams through my thin blinds.
The sun's kept shining through day after day --
why have you failed nine pledges out of ten?
Let's reckon -- ever since you went away,
the lotus leaves like coins have thrice appeared.
160 Pity those who must stay at far-off posts,
who must trek their long trail to Mount Huang-hua.
Who has no kin or family to love?
All sorely miss old parents or young wives.
Your mother's hair is covered now with frost.
165 Your child at suck needs love and tender care.
Your mother waits, heart-weary, at the door.
Your child in hunger cries for its chewed rice.
I feed your mother, serving as her son,
and like a father teach your child to read.
170 Alone, I feed the old and teach the young --
I bear all burdens, longing for my man.
I long for you while months and seasons roll,
as spring's passed by and winter's drawing near.
We two have lived apart three years or fours --
175 my grief has grown a thousand tangles threads.
Would I could nestle close to you, my love!
I'd tell you all the bitterness I've felt.
This pin you gave me on our wedding day.
That mirror we held up to our twined selves.
180 By whom could I transmit both there to you
and let you know how much I'm missing you?
The ring my finger wears I cherish so.
The brooch that decks my hair I've owned since youth.
By whom could I dispatch both there to you
185 as gifts and keepsakes from the one you love?
Year after year, the news has come and gone.
This spring's still bare of any sign from you.
I hope for letters when I see wild geese.
I have to quilt all made at the first chill.
190 The wester thwarts the path of geese in flight.
You dwell in countries drenched by rain and snow.
Rain soaks you shelter, snow enwraps your tent --
I think of you and feel the cold you feel.
My message of brocade I have to sealed up --
195 unrolling it again, I add some words.
My fortune I surmise by tossing coins --
should I believe the hapless face they tell?
At dusk, I linger on the porch; at night.
my hair lies tousled on the moonlit bed.
200 Am I a fool, a sot? Why does my soul
hold naught but fogs and mists, but whims and dreams?
I feel ashamed when I pin up my hair
or when I dress and put on my old skirt.
My hair is parted wrong, a raveled knot.
205 My skirt hangs loosely round my sunken waist.
A lonesome porch -- I staggered step by step.
Time and again I raise the blind and look.
Outside the blind, no magpie brings glad news.
Inside, perhaps the lamp know how I feel.
210 The lamp may know, but nothing can it do.
My heart must bear its sorrow all alone.
Its sorrow finds no utterance in words --
the lamp and my own shadow feel for me.
The night's fifth watch -- cocks crow as dewdrops fall.
215 sophoras swish their leaves and scatter shades.
An hour of waiting drags and seems a year.
My grief lies deep and sullen like the sea.
Insence I burn yet fail to soothe my soul.
The mirror I behold and see but tears.
220 I haven't touched the lute, for I so dread
to break its strings or disarray its frets.
If messages could go with the east wind,
I'd pay pure gold to send you all my love.
Alas, I cannot reach you on Mount Yen:
225 in thought, I'll search for you through that vast sky.
The sky's too vast to search from end to end.
The lover's yearn's to great to ever cease.
And grief increases as all nature mourns:
frost covers trees, rain muffles insects' cries.
230 Frost hammers willows. wearing them away.
Rain saws plane trees, destroying withered boughs.
Snow thatches thickets, homes of cooing birds.
Insects lament near by, bells toll far off.
Beneath the eaves, crickets rail at the moon.
235 Outside the porch, winds blast the plantain leaves.
A sudden gust bursts through -- all curtains stir.
The moon throws shades of flowers upon the blind.
Flowers bask in floods of moonlight smooth as silk.
The moon enfolds each flower and makes it glow.
240 A play of moon and flower, of flower and moon --
watching the moon, the flower, I hurt inside.
How can I tell them all, the pain I feel?
A woman's skills and arts I now neglect.
I've shunned the sewing needle and the loom.
245 I've stopped embroidering orioles in pairs.
I loathe to paint my face, I hate to talk.
I lean against the window, morn and eve --
against the window, brooding, I sit still.
You're gone -- whom would my rouge and powder charm?
250 I groom myself no more -- grief fills my heart.
I grieve for you who're wandering far from home.
Am I Ch'ang O who, mateless, haunt the moon?
The Weaving Miad who sobs by Heaven's stream?
Is this my pillow, grief that piles on grief?
255 Is this my stable, gloom that fees on gloom?
I would assuage my pain with flowers and wine,
but sorrow stales the wine and wilts the flowers.
I blow the flute but cannot draw a sound --
I pick it up and set it down again.
260 I grieve for you whom duty sent away
to tread long roads with hunger in your bag.
The mocking cukoo's song makes me shed tears.
The watchman's drumbeats tug at my head's strings.
My lovely looks have changed, turn drawn and pale.
265 How bitter parting is! I know the taste.
A taste of bitterness and know my heart --
who's given it to me, this bitterness?
Because of you tears flow in two streams.
Because of you I shiver all alone.
270 I'm not to join you there inside your tent --
my tears are not to wet your battle cap.
I can come near you only in a dream --
I prowl all riverbanks for you at night.
I look for you on the road of Yang Tower.
275 I find you at the harbor of the Hsiang.
When happy chance brings us together thus,
we share an hour of loving, in a dream.
I curse my lot unequal to my dream
each time I've met my love in Lung or Han.
280 How I regret each dream on waking up!
In dreams, alas, I've held and loved thin air.
Still, my true heart can't be torn off from you --
it ever follows you each day, each hour.
It follows you, yet nowhere are you seen
285 when on a height I peer for your cart's wheels.
Southward I look -- clover ferns hide the stream.
Grasses like jasper, mulberry leaves like jade.
Some village huts that totter with wind gusts.
Below a twilit cliff, a flock of storks.
290 Northward I look -- some inns and travel posts.
Trees flush with clouds, peaks soaring to the blue.
The millet's dying at the ramparts's foot.
Rain sprinkles -- in a chamber sings a flute.
On the east hills I see but leaves and leaves.
295 Some pheasants flaps their wings, plum branches dance.
Thick mists like billows surge ablove the woods.
Those birds wind's blown astray cry piteous cries.
Westward the river twists and turns its course.
Geese sail on high, waves steer an angler's boat.
300 Reed swamps lie snugly tucked amid pine groves.
I catch a glimpse of someone going home.
I look around exploring earth and sky.
Time and again I go upstairs ang gaze.
Clouds rises after cloud to block my view.
305 Where is Jade Pass? Where is your battlefield?
How can I get the wand that shrinks the earth?
The magic scarf that bridges distant shores?
I'd turn to stone, but then I'd have no tears
to weep for you, awaiting for you upstairs.
310 When I admire green willows, how I wish
I'd conseled you to spurn a noble's rank!
Out there, while you must travel your long road,
does your heart beat at one with my own heart?
Would your heart felt what stirs my lovelore heart!
315 I would not entertain one doubt or fear.
My heart, your sunflower, turns to you -- the sun,
I dread, just casts a glance and whirls away.
Forsaken by the sun, the flower must wilt.
Its hue turns sallow as the sun won't shine.
320 All faded flowers drop petals by the wall.
I've seen flowers drop -- how many! -- on cold nights.
The garden's orchids have been plucked off.
The river's clover ferns are breathing scent.
Clad in my robe, I stroll in our front yard
325 and upward gaze at heaven's glorious vault.
The Silver River gleams and dims by fits.
The strider will appear and disappear.
The clouds now glow with moonlight, now turn pale.
The Dipper's handle shifts from east to west.
330 My looks and charms keep fading year by year,
and still my man keeps wandering far away.
We were a body and its shadow once --
now we stand worlds apart like Shen and Shang.
You're galloping your horse on cloud-wrapped trails.
335 I'm shuffling slippers through moss-covered paths.
No joyful tidings has the spring wind brought.
How many balmy seasons we have missed!
They're on my mind, those flowers of Yao and Wei:
they wed thrie gold and crimson hues in spring
340 when blows the wind of love. They haunt my thoughts,
the Herdboy and his Weaving Maid: they cross
the Stream and meet beneath the autumn moon.
I grieve the wife inside an empty room
who in her finest season lies in waste.
345 The days and months like shuttles hurtle by,
and youth is springtide fleeing in a flash.
I nspring I brood, in fall I seeth with rage --
I've known more parting grief than I've shared joy.
Anger and grief are tearing mr to shreds --
350 how much, ho long can a trail reed endure?
There was Wen-Chun, a beauty in the past:
when age would silver off her head, she wailed.
And there was P'an whose face shone like a flower:
as he feared frost would mar his hair, he wept.
355 I sorrow for my looks in their full bloom,
deploring time which slides and slips away.
I mourn harsh destiny, mourn blossom-years --
as a fresh young lass soon turns a mother-sow!
Our chamber's hoarded dreams of nupital bliss.
360 Our alcove's bathed in bridal fragance still.
How Heaven thwarts our happiness on earth!
I grieve for you, I grieve for my own self.
Have you observed mandarin ducks afield?
They go in pairs as mates and won't soon split.
365 Or have you watched two swallows on a roof?
They snuggle side by side till hoery age.
Two ch'iung-ch'iung beasts stay close, head touching head.
Two chien-chien birds fly jointly, wing to wing.
The willow and the lotus are mere plants --
370 yet each boasts wedded leaves and coupled flowers.
Even two beasts, two plants in love don;t part --
why keep two persons severed, here anf there?
May we, in our next life, become two birds
that join their wings, two trees that twine their boughs!
375 Better unite in death than part in life --
to stay together on this earth is best.
To silver may age never turn your hair!
And may my beauty never lose its sheen!
Oh, let me be your shadow, follow you!
380 Where you will go, you'll find me by your side.
To see your shadow, linger in the sun
as you perform all duties of a man.
Serve well your Sovereign with a true-red heart.
Defend your people with an iron will.
385 You slake your thirst by drinking rebels' food!
You sate your hunger eating heathens' flesh!
You rush at swords and spears, defyin death,
But Heaven will protect a gallant knight.
You'll win all battles, and from your north pass
390 to our west hills all arms will be laid down.
Banners and flags will leave the border posts.
The homeward road will ring with songs of triumph.
Proud paeans will be carves upon Mount Yen.
You'll tell all your exploits before the throne.
395 You'll wash your weapons in the Silver Stream.
They will make music and intone your praise.
In merit you'll compare with Ch'in and Hou;
your name will be inscribed upon the Mist Tower,
your portrait will bedeck Unicorn Hall.
400 You'll walk in glory, dressws with sash and cap.
Your flame will live in amrble for all time.
Your son will share in bounty from above --
with you your wife will bask in Heaven's grace.
I'm not a foolish woman like Su's wife.
405 You yield in nothing to that Lo-yang man.
When at war's end as hero you come home,
will I stay at the loom and show disdain?
I'll take off you the soldier's coat of mail.
I'll shake off the wanderer's dew and dust.
410 For you I'll fill a golden cup with wine.
For you I'll wear enchanting scent and powder.
You'll view my tear-stained kerchiefs one by one.
You'll read my song of grief line after line.
We'll substitute gay lines for doleful lines.
415 We'll sip our wine unburdening our souls.
We'll slowly fill and drain cup after cup.
We'll sotly hum one stanza, then the next.
Enjoying sheer delights of verse and wine,
we'll live together till aripe of old age.
420 This parting grief -- we'll make up for it all.
We'll have and hold each other, blessing peace.
Into this song I've poured my love for you --
a man like you will understand my heart.