A Lute of Jade | Page 7

soldiers were thronging about the royal tent and
clamouring for the blood of the favourite, it was the Emperor who sent
her forth --
lily pale,
Between tall avenues of spears, to die.
Policy, the bane of artists demanded it, and so, for the sake of a
thousand issues and a common front to the common foe,
he placed
the love of his life upon the altar of his patriotism, and went, a
broken-hearted man, into the long exile. From that moment the
Emperor died. History ceases to take interest in the crownless wanderer.

His return to the place of tragedy, and on to the capital
where the

deserted palace awaits him with its memories,
his endless seeking for
the soul of his beloved, her discovery by the priest of Tao in that island
of P`eng Lai where --
gaily coloured towers
Rise up like rainbow clouds, and many gentle

And beautiful Immortals pass their days in peace,
her message to her lover with its splendid triumphant note of faith
foretelling their reunion at the last -- in fine, the story of their love with
the grave between them -- is due to the genius of Po Chu-i. And to all
poets coming after, these two lovers have been types of romantic and
mystic love between man and woman. Through them the symbols of
the mandarin duck and drake, the one-winged birds, the tree whose
boughs are interwoven, are revealed.
They are the earthly
counterparts of the heavenly lovers,
the Cow-herd and the
Spinning-maid in the constellations of Lyra and Aquila. To them
Chinese poetry owes some of its finest inspirations, and at least two of
its greatest singers, Tu Fu and Li Po.
Chinese Verse Form
In passing it is necessary to refer to the structure of Chinese verse,
which, difficult as it is to grasp and differing in particulars from our
European ideas of technique, has considerable interest for the student of
verse form and construction.
The favourite metres of the T`ang poets were in lines
of five or seven
syllables. There is no fixed rule as regards the length of a poem, but,
generally speaking, they were composed of four, eight, twelve, or
sixteen lines. Only the even lines rhyme, except in the four-line or
stop-short poem, when the first line often rhymes with the second and
fourth, curiously recalling the Rubaiyat form of the Persian poets.
There is also a break or caesura
which in five-syllable verses falls
after the second syllable and in seven-syllable verses after the fourth.
The Chinese also make use of two kinds of tone in their poetry, the
Ping or even,
and the Tsze or oblique.

The even tone has two variations differing from each other only in
pitch; the oblique tone has three variations, known as "Rising, Sinking,
and Entering." In a seven-syllable verse the odd syllables can have any
tone; as regards the even syllables, when the second syllable is even,
then the fourth is oblique, and the sixth even. Furthermore, lines two
and three, four and five, six and seven, have the same tones on the even
syllables. The origin of the Chinese tone is not a poetical one, but is
undoubtedly due to the necessity of having some distinguishing method
of accentuation in a language which only contains about four hundred
different sounds.
The Influence of Religion on Chinese Poetry
To Confucius, as has been already stated, is due that groundwork of
Chinese poetry -- the Odes. But the master gave his fellow countrymen
an ethical system based upon sound common sense, and a deep
knowledge of their customs and characteristics. There is little in the
Confucian classics to inspire a poet, and we must turn to Buddhism and
the mystical philosophy of Lao Tzu for any source of spiritual
inspiration from which the poets have drawn. Buddhism and Taoism
are sisters.
Their parents are self-observance and the Law. Both are
quietists, yet in this respect they differ, that the former is the grey
quietist, the latter the pearl. The neutral tint is better adapted to the
sister in whose eyes all things are Maya -- illusion. The shimmer of
pearl belongs of right to her whose soul reflects the colour and quiet
radiance of a thousand dreams. Compassion urged the one, the love of
harmony led the other. How near they were akin! how far apart they
have wandered! Yet there has always been this essential difference
between them, that while the Buddhist regards the senses as windows
looking out upon unreality and mirage, to the Taoist they are doors
through which the freed soul rushes to mingle with the colours and
tones and contours of the universe. Both Buddha and Lao Tzu are poets,
one listening to the rhythm of infinite sorrow, one to the rhythm of
infinite joy. Neither knows anything of reward at the hands of men or