II. v. 3.: LAMENT OF A DEFAMED AND BANISHED PRINCE.† There go the rooks, all flying homeward, Flock after flock, in bustling glee; Around me there is none unhappy, I am alone in misery! Wherein have I offended Heaven? My guilt—whence doth it then accrue? My soul is full of heaviness: Alas, I know not what to do. [225] Once trodden smooth was Chow’s great highway, All o’er it now rank grasses grow. It grieves, it pains my heart to see it: Each thought comes like a stunning blow. Sleep without comfort,* sighs continual,— My sorrow brings on age amain; My heart is full of heaviness, And throbs as throbs an aching brain. The trees† around his native village A man with fond regard must view. I looked to none as to my father, None than my mother found more true. Are not these very hairs my father’s? Hung I not once on a mother’s breast? O that, when Heaven thus gave me being, My time had been in time of rest! Amid the green luxuriant willows With clamour the cicadas grind; And o’er the deep dark standing water Bend rush and reed before the wind. Myself am like a drifting vessel, And whither destined do not know; My soul is full of heaviness; E’en roughest rest* must I forego. The stag, with all his wild careering, Still runs reluctant (from the herd). The pheasant, crowing in the morning, Crows but for his companion bird. [226] Myself am like a tree death-stricken, Reft of its branches by disease; My soul is full of heaviness; How is it none my trouble sees? See the chased hare when seeking refuge; Some, sure, will interpose to save. Lies a dead man upon the highway, Some, sure, will dig for him a grave. And should a king suppress all feeling, And bear unmoved the sight of woe? My soul is full of heaviness: My tears run down in ceaseless flow. The king lends ear to the maligner, Responding, aye, as to a pledge.* He lacks the charitable spirit, Stays not to test what men allege. In felling trees men note their leanings, In cleaving wood they note its grain;— (Not so with him); he clears the guilty, And I, the guiltless, bear the pain. Nought may be higher than a mountain,† Nought may be deeper than a spring. Walls may have ears: let words not lightly Be uttered even by a king. “Yet leave alone my fishing dam;‡ “My wicker-nets—remove them not: “Myself am spurned;—some vacant hour “May bring compassion for my lot.”
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Re: 197. 小弁 - Xiao Bian
Date: 2021-04-20 03:00 am (UTC)There go the rooks, all flying homeward,
Flock after flock, in bustling glee;
Around me there is none unhappy,
I am alone in misery!
Wherein have I offended Heaven?
My guilt—whence doth it then accrue?
My soul is full of heaviness:
Alas, I know not what to do.
[225]
Once trodden smooth was Chow’s great highway,
All o’er it now rank grasses grow.
It grieves, it pains my heart to see it:
Each thought comes like a stunning blow.
Sleep without comfort,* sighs continual,—
My sorrow brings on age amain;
My heart is full of heaviness,
And throbs as throbs an aching brain.
The trees† around his native village
A man with fond regard must view.
I looked to none as to my father,
None than my mother found more true.
Are not these very hairs my father’s?
Hung I not once on a mother’s breast?
O that, when Heaven thus gave me being,
My time had been in time of rest!
Amid the green luxuriant willows
With clamour the cicadas grind;
And o’er the deep dark standing water
Bend rush and reed before the wind.
Myself am like a drifting vessel,
And whither destined do not know;
My soul is full of heaviness;
E’en roughest rest* must I forego.
The stag, with all his wild careering,
Still runs reluctant (from the herd).
The pheasant, crowing in the morning,
Crows but for his companion bird.
[226]
Myself am like a tree death-stricken,
Reft of its branches by disease;
My soul is full of heaviness;
How is it none my trouble sees?
See the chased hare when seeking refuge;
Some, sure, will interpose to save.
Lies a dead man upon the highway,
Some, sure, will dig for him a grave.
And should a king suppress all feeling,
And bear unmoved the sight of woe?
My soul is full of heaviness:
My tears run down in ceaseless flow.
The king lends ear to the maligner,
Responding, aye, as to a pledge.*
He lacks the charitable spirit,
Stays not to test what men allege.
In felling trees men note their leanings,
In cleaving wood they note its grain;—
(Not so with him); he clears the guilty,
And I, the guiltless, bear the pain.
Nought may be higher than a mountain,†
Nought may be deeper than a spring.
Walls may have ears: let words not lightly
Be uttered even by a king.
“Yet leave alone my fishing dam;‡
“My wicker-nets—remove them not:
“Myself am spurned;—some vacant hour
“May bring compassion for my lot.”
https://oll.libertyfund.org/title/confucius-the-shi-king-the-old-poetry-classic-of-the-chinese