from The Book of Songs, No. 124

I climb that wooded hill
And look towards where my father is.
My father is saying, ‘Alas, my son is on service;
Day and night he knows no rest.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back and not be left behind.’

I climb that bare hill
And look towards where my mother is.
My mother is saying, ‘Alas, my young one is on service;
Day and night he gets no sleep.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back, and not be cast away.’

I climb that ridge
And look towards where my elder brother is.
My brother is saying, ‘Alas, my young brother is on service;
Day and night he toils.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back and not die.’

translated by Arthur Waley

from The Book of Songs No. 122

How few of us are left, how few!
Why do we not go back?
Were it not for our prince and his concerns,
What should we be doing here in the dew?

How few of us are left, how few!
Why do we not go back?
Were it not for our prince’s own concerns,
What should we be doing here in the mud?

translated by Arthur Waley

Thomas Jefferson speaks

“I know no safe depository of the ultimate powers of society but the people themselves; and if we think them not enlightened enough to exercise their control with a wholesome discretion, the remedy is not to take it from them, but to inform their discretion.”

1820

so don’t forget to vote!!!

from Frontier Songs, First Series, Section Two by Tu Fu

Sharpen the sword in the Sobbing Water,
The water reddens, the blade wounds my hand.
How much I want to hush the sound of anguish;
Too long entangled are the strands of my heart!
When a man of courage promises life to his country,
Then what is there to regret and lament?
Deeds of fame live on in the Unicorn Pavilion,
Bones of soldiers will quickly decay.

translated by Irving Y. Lo

from Frontier Songs, First Series, Section One by Tu Fu

Sad, sad they leave their old village,
Far, far they go to the Chiao River.
Officials have an appointed time of arrival,
To flee from orders is to run afoul of capture.
The ruler is already rich in lands,
Expanding the frontier brings no gain!
Abandoned forever is the love of father, mother,
Sobbing, they march away with spears on their backs.

translated by Ronald Miao