The Garden Of Bright Waters | Page 5

river.
Song of Annam.
STRANGER THINGS HAVE HAPPENED
Do not believe that ink is always black,
Or lime white, or lemon sour;?You cannot ring one bell from two pagodas,?You cannot have two governors for the city of Lang Son.
I found you binding an orange spray?Of flowers with white flowers;?I never noticed the flower gathering?Of other village ladies.?Would you like me to go and see your father and mother?
Song of Annam.
NOCTURNE
It is late at night?And the North Star is shining.?The mist covers the rice-fields?And the bamboos?Are whispering full of crickets.?The watch beats on the iron-wood gong,?And priests are ringing the pagoda bells.?We hear the far-away games of peasants?And distant singing in the cottages.
It is late at night.?As we talk gently,?Sitting by one another,?Life is as beautiful as night.?The red moon is rising?On the mountain side?Like a fire started among the trees.?There is the North Star?Shining like a paper lantern.?The light air brings dew to our faces?And the sound of tamtams beaten far away.?Let us sit like this all night.
Song of Annam.
THE GAO FLOWER
I am the Gao flower high in a tree,?You are the grass Long Mai on the path-side.?When heat comes down after the dews of morning?The flower grows pale and tumbles on the grass,?The grass Long Mai that keeps the fallen Gao.
Folk who let their daughters grow?Without achieving a husband?Might easily forget to fence their garden,?Or let their radishes grow flower and rank?When they could eat them ripe and tender.
Come to me, you that I see walk?Every night in a red turban;?Young man with the white turban, come to me.?We will plant marrows together in a garden,?And there may be little marrows for your children.
I will dye your turban blue and red and yellow,?You with the white turban.?You that are passing with a load of water,?I call you?And you do not even turn your head.
Song of Annam.
THE GIRL OF KE-MO
I'm a girl of Ke-Mo village?Selling my rice wine on the road.?Mine is the strongest rice wine in the land,?Though my bottle is so patched and dirty.?These silly rags are not my body,?The parts you cannot see are counted pleasant;?But you are just too drunk to drink my wine,?And just too plain to lie down on my mat.?He who would drink the wine of the girl of Ke-Mo?Needs a beautiful body and a lofty wit.
Song of Annam.
THE LITTLE WOMAN OF CLEAR RIVER
Clear River twists nine times about?Clear River; but so deep?That none can see the green sand.?You hear the birds about Clear River:?Dik, dik, dik, dik, Diu dik.
A little woman with jade eyes?Leans on the wall of a pavilion.?She has the moonrise in her heart?And the singing of love songs?Comes to her up the river.
She stands and dreams for me?Outside the house by the bamboo door.?In a minute?I will leave my shadow?And talk to her of poetry and love.
Song of Annam.
WAITING TO MARRY A STUDENT
I still walk slowly on the river bank?Where I came singing,?And where I saw your boat pass up beyond the sun?Setting red in the river.?I want Autumn,?I want the leaves to begin falling at once,?So that the cold time may bring us close again?Like K'ien Ni�� and Chik N��, the two stars.
Each year when Autumn comes?The crows make a black bridge across the milky sea,?And then these two poor stars?Can run together in gold and be at peace.?Darling, for my sake work hard?And be received with honour at the Examinations.
Since I saw your boat pass up beyond the sun?I have forgotten how to sing?And how to paddle the canoe across the lake.?I know how to sit down and how to be sad,?And I know how to say nothing;?But every other art has slipped away.
Song of Annam.
A SONG FOR TWO
I have lacquered my teeth to find a husband.
And I have need of a wife.?Give me a kiss and they will marry us?At Mo-Lao, my village.
I will marry you if you will wait for me,?Wait till the banana puts forth branches,?And fruit hangs heavy on the Sung-tree,?And the onion flowers;?Wait till the dove goes down in the pool to lay her eggs,?And the eel climbs into a tree to make her nest.
Song of Annam.
ARABIC
SAND
The sand is like acres of wet milk?Poured out under the moonlight;?It crawls up about your brown feet?Like wine trodden from white stars.
From the Arabic of John Duncan.
TWO SIMILES
You have taken away my cloak,?My cloak of weariness;?Take my coat also,?My many-coloured coat of life....
On this great nursery floor?I had three toys,?A bright and varnished vow,?A Speckled Monster, best of boys,?True friend to me, and more?Beloved and a thing of cost,?My doll painted like life; and now?One is broken and two are lost.
From the Arabic of John Duncan.
MELODIAN
I have been at this shooting-gallery too long.?It is monotonous how the little coloured balls?Make up and down on their silvery water thread;?It would be pleasant to have money and go instead?To watch your