At dusk I sought lodging at Shih-hao village,
When a recruiting officer came to seize men at night.
An old man scaled the wall and fled,
His old wife came out to answer the door.
How furious was the officer’s shout!
How pitiable was the woman’s cry!
I listened as she stepped forward to speak:
“All my three sons have left for garrison duty at Yeh;
From one of them a letter just arrived,
Saying my two sons had newly died in battle.
Survivors can manage to live on,
But the dead are gone forever.
Now there’s no other man in the house,
Only a grandchild at his mother’s breast.
THe child’s mother has gone away;
She has only a tattered skirt to wear.
An old woman I am feeble and weak,
But I will gladly leave with you tonight
To answer the urgent call at Ho-yang–
I can still cook morning gruel for your men.”
The night drew on, but talking stopped;
It seemed I heard only half-concealed sobs.
As I got back on the road at daybreak,
Only the old man was there to see me off.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Leonard Durso 
Very much inspiring 🙂
Thanks. I’m glad you liked it. It’s a very moving piece. Tu Fu is considered one of the two greatest poets in China’s very long literary history.the other is his contemporary Li Po or Li Bei.
Loved to know..
I am enjoying these Chinese poets.
I’m glad. They are a particular favorite of mine.
half-concealed sobs – intriguing concept – people crying out yet attempting to retain dignity and some self control is how I interpret it. .
Yes, that seems about right for the old lady who, of course, represents the nation.
USA certainly sobbing from pain and hate these days but hope His light conquers our present darkness.
One can always hope.
Sharp translation. Evocative and vivid.
Glad you like it.