Your herdsmen dream;—­fish take the place
    Of men; on banners falcons fly,
  Displacing snakes and tortoises. 
    The augur tells his prophecy:—­
  “The first betoken plenteous years; the change
  Of banners shows of homes a widening range.”

BOOK V

THE DECADE OF SEAOU MIN

A Eunuch Complains of His Fate

  A few fine lines, at random drawn,
  Like the shell-pattern wrought in lawn
    To hasty glance will seem. 
  My trivial faults base slander’s slime
  Distorted into foulest crime,
    And men me worthless deem.

  A few small points, pricked down on wood,
  May be made out a picture good
    Of the bright Southern Sieve. 
  Who planned, and helped those slanderers vile,
  My name with base lies to defile? 
    Unpitied, here I grieve.

  With babbling tongues you go about,
  And only scheme how to make out
    The lies you scatter round. 
  Hear me—­Be careful what you say;
  People ere long your words will weigh,
    And liars you’ll be found.

  Clever you are with changeful schemes! 
  How else could all your evil dreams
    And slanders work their way? 
  Men now believe you; by and by,
  The truth found out, each vicious lie
    Will ill for ill repay.

  The proud rejoice; the sufferer weeps. 
  O azure Heaven, from out thy deeps
    Why look in silence down? 
  Behold those proud men and rebuke;
  With pity on the sufferers look,
    And on the evil frown.

  Those slanderers I would gladly take,
  With all who help their schemes to make,
    And to the tigers throw. 
  If wolves and tigers such should spare,
  Td hurl them ’midst the freezing air,
    Where the keen north winds blow. 
  And should the North compassion feel
  I’d fling them to great Heaven, to deal
    On them its direst woe.

  As on the sacred heights you dwell,
  My place is in the willow dell,
    One is the other near. 
  Before you, officers, I spread
  These lines by me, poor eunuch, made. 
    Think not Mang-tsze severe.

An Officer Deplores the Misery of the Time

  In the fourth month summer shines;
  In the sixth the heat declines. 
  Nature thus grants men relief;
  Tyranny gives only grief. 
  Were not my forefathers men? 
  Can my suffering ’scape their ken?

  In the cold of autumn days
  Each plant shrivels and decays. 
  Nature then is hard and stern;
  Living things sad lessons learn. 
  Friends dispersed, all order gone,
  Place of refuge have I none.

  Winter days are wild and fierce;
  Rapid gusts each crevice pierce. 
  Such is my unhappy lot,
  Unbefriended and forgot! 
  Others all can happy be;
  I from misery ne’er am free.