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卷41 列傳第33 王襃 庾信

Volume 41 Biographies 33: Wang Bao; Yu Xin

Chapter 41 of 周書 · Book of Zhou
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1
Wang Bao; Yu Xin.
2
祿
Wang Bao, styled Ziyuan, came from Linyi in Langya. His great-grandfather Jian had served Qi as Attendant-in-Ordinary and Grand Commandant and was posthumously titled Duke Wenxian of Nanchang. His grandfather Qian had been Liang Attendant-in-Ordinary, Household Counsellor with Golden Bells and Purple Pendants, and Marquis An of Nanchang. His father Gui had been Liang Attendant-in-Ordinary, Minister of the Left for the People, and Marquis Zhang of Nanchang. They all enjoyed great renown south of the Yangtze.
3
Bao was profoundly discerning and inwardly steady of purpose. He was handsome in bearing, skilled in conversation, widely read in history, and especially accomplished as a writer. Xiao Ziyun, Director of the National University under Liang, was married to Bao's aunt and was especially skilled in cursive and clerical script. In youth, because of the family tie, Bao often visited his household and took him as a model. Before long his fame stood just below Ziyun's, and both were esteemed in their time. Emperor Wu of Liang delighted in his gifts and gave him in marriage the daughter of his younger brother, Prince Hui of Poyang. He began his career as Secretary Gentleman, became Attendant of the Heir Apparent, and inherited the marquisate of Nanchang county. He was gradually promoted to Secretary Director. Prince Xuan of Cheng, Daqi, was Emperor Jianwen's eldest legitimate son and thus Bao's cousin on his mother's side. At that time staff were being chosen with great care, and Bao was appointed Literary Companion. He was soon made Administrator of Ancheng commandery. When Hou Jing crossed the Yangtze and Jiankang was thrown into turmoil, Bao brought his district to order and won praise in his time.
4
西
When Emperor Yuan of Liang assumed the provisional regency, Bao was made General of Sagely Martiality and Interior Administrator of Nanping. When he succeeded to the throne at Jiangling, he wished to give Bao an extraordinary appointment. Bao was still in his commandery, and the emperor ordered Wang Senbian to summon him with full ceremony. Bao then led his household westward. Emperor Yuan and Bao had long been friends and were deeply pleased with each other. He was appointed Attendant-in-Ordinary and rose in succession to Minister of Personnel and Left Vice Director. As a man of a great hereditary house and rich literary gifts, Bao was universally pushed forward and esteemed, and within a month he had risen to the highest offices. Though imperial favor grew daily, Bao became all the more modest and did not lord his rank over others, and his contemporaries praised him for it.
5
便
Earlier, after Emperor Yuan had pacified Hou Jing and captured Prince Wu of Wuling, Ji, he saw that Jiankang lay in ruins and that it urgently needed repair; Jiangling was flourishing, and he wished to settle the court there. Moreover, his former staff were all men of Chu and alike wished to make Jing and Ying the capital at once. He once summoned the ministers to discuss the matter. General of the Guards Hu Senyou, Minister of Personnel Zong Lin, Grand Steward Huang Luohan, Imperial Secretary Liu Yu, and others said: "Though Jiankang is the old capital, its royal qi is exhausted. Moreover it borders the northern invaders, with only one river between. If misfortune should come, regret will be of no avail. We have also heard that in the lands south of the Jing there is the qi of a Son of Heaven. Now Your Majesty has ascended the throne and continued the enterprise—surely this is the fulfillment? Heaven, the times, and human affairs all show omens such as this. In our view, to move the capital would not be fitting. Emperor Yuan deeply agreed. At the time Bao and Minister of the Interior Zhou Hongzheng were both in attendance at his side. He then turned to Bao and the others and said: "What do you think?" Bao was by nature cautious and knew that Emperor Yuan was much given to suspicion; he did not dare openly speak against the plan. At the time he only assented in vague terms. Later, in a private moment of leisure, he remonstrated in secret, and his words were very earnest. Emperor Yuan was quite willing to accept his advice. Yet his heart favored Jing and Chu and he had already followed the plan of Senyou and the others. The next day he said before the whole assembly to Bao: "Your advice yesterday to return to Jiankang was not without reason." Bao felt that words meant for the inner chamber ought not to be displayed before the multitude. Knowing that his counsel would not be used, he therefore ceased to speak of it further.
6
西 西
When the great army marched against Jiangling, Emperor Yuan entrusted Bao with overall command of all military affairs west of the city. Bao had been known for literary elegance; now, suddenly entrusted with supreme command, he strove all the more and fulfilled the utmost of loyal diligence. After the siege began, suspicion and fear spread above and below; Emperor Yuan placed deep trust in Bao alone. Zhu Maichen led his troops out through the Xiyang gate of the Xuanyang quarter and fought the royal army; Maichen was utterly defeated. Bao supervised the advance but could not restrain them; he was therefore demoted to General Who Protects the Army. The royal army assaulted the outer palisade; the city fell, and Bao followed Emperor Yuan into the inner citadel and still wished to hold firm. Before long Emperor Yuan went out to surrender, and Bao then came out with the rest. He met the pillar of state Yu Jin, who treated him with great courtesy. Bao had once composed "Song of the Yan," brilliantly rendering the bitterness of frontier cold; Emperor Yuan and all the literary men had harmonized with it, each vying in plaintive language. Only now was this truly verified.
7
Bao, together with Wang Ke, Liu Yi, Zong Lin, Yin Buhai, and several dozen others, all reached Chang'an. Grand Progenitor Yuwen Tai said with delight: "In the old days the profit of pacifying Wu was no more than the two Lus. Now in settling Chu, all the worthies have come at once. One may say this surpasses that." He also said to Bao and Wang Ke: "I am myself a maternal nephew of the Wang clan; you are all my uncles on that side. You should treat me as kin by affection and not let leaving your homeland weigh on your minds." Thereupon he appointed Bao, Ke, Yin Buhai, and the others General of Chariots and Cavalry and Director with the Third Rank of Honor. He often had them sit at ease in the upper seats and bestowed very generous provisions. Bao and the others likewise received his gracious regard and forgot they were captives in a strange land.
8
輿
When Emperor Xiaomin took the throne, Bao was enfeoffed as Viscount of Shiquan with a fief of three hundred households. When Emperor Shizong succeeded, he was ardently fond of literature. At the time Bao and Yu Xin had the highest reputation for talent; they received especially close and generous treatment. Whenever the emperor went on excursions or banquets, he ordered Bao and the others to compose poetry and hold literary discussions, and they were constantly at his side. He was soon given the added rank of Director with the Third Rank of Honor and Opening Ceremony. In the Baoding era he was appointed Grand Master of the Palace Secretariat. Emperor Gaozu composed the "Classic of Images" and ordered Bao to annotate it. His citations were comprehensive and apt, and he was greatly praised. Bao had breadth of capacity and rightly understood the principles of governance. Since for generations his family had been chief ministers south of the Yangtze, Emperor Gaozu also valued him on that account. After the Jiande era he took part extensively in court deliberations. Whenever there were great edicts and proclamations, Bao was ordered to draft them. After the Eastern Palace was established, he was appointed Junior Tutor of the Heir Apparent, promoted to Junior Minister of Works, and still directed the drafting of imperial pronouncements. When the imperial carriage went on progress, Bao often attended in attendance.
9
Earlier, Bao had been on good terms with the Liang recluse Zhou Hongrang of Runan. When Hongrang's elder brother Hongzheng came from Chen on an embassy, Emperor Gaozu permitted Bao and the others to renew ties of kinship and exchange letters and inquiries. Bao sent Hongrang a poem and also wrote a letter saying:
10
Like Zong of the Ji clan at the end of the road, like Yang Zhu at the crossroads. The expeditionary tumbleweed goes far and does not return; the flowing water does not come back. Joy and sorrow differ by region; heat and cold differ by season—the bark of trees is thick in spring, the cassia tree flourishes in winter. I trust you are taking care of yourself and that in movement and rest you have much ease. Your worthy elder brother has entered the Pass; I respectfully receive your warm messages. You still keep to the waters of the Du mound and still preserve the fields of Chiyang, effacing your tracks on hidden paths and silencing your name in lofty valleys. Who would have expected such pleasure—how fortunate! How fortunate!
11
Your younger brother formerly, because of many illnesses, eagerly studied the recipes of the Nine Immortals; later he entered the world's road and constantly cherished the wish to climb the Five Peaks. Like the Pass Keeper, he sought out extraordinary men; like that guest minister, he took to heart lofty gentlemen. In the upper classic he heard discourse on the Way and often listened to talks on the mysterious female; in the middle he nourished the spirit with medicine and often received instruction on cinnabar sand. In recent years affairs have pressed hard to the end; my hair and face have declined and withered—the plant is yellowing and will fall without season. Turning back to consider my life, anxious cares gather in full. Watching the shade and fearing the sun, like Zhao Meng's sense of the years passing; Leaning on his staff and walking while chanting, like Liu Kun's accumulated grief. North of Heyang I look out in vain, thinking of Gong county; Gazing south from Baling, I still see Chang'an. I hope the scholar's soul may come to rest on its old soil; and that the ghost of the Archers' Office may have no regret in a strange land. White clouds are in the sky; long is this parting; the day of meeting is far off and has no date. Taking up the brush and gathering paper, decrepitude crowds in from every side.
12
Hongrang wrote back in reply:
13
How very sad! How very sad! Such is this parting. Clouds fly and mud sinks; gold melts and orchids perish; jade tones are not continued; jade blossoms are not renewed. My elder brother has come from Haojing and sent a letter to the lofty valley. The traces of an old friend are as though face to face; opening the letter and spreading the paper, tears stream down and soak the knees. South of the Yangtze it is sultry and hot; oranges and pomelos are green in winter; north of the Wei it is bitterly cold; poplars and elms shed their leaves late. Local custom and climate each gather where men are at ease; food and care suit the season—may your rest and rising bring much good fortune. Excellent! Excellent!
14
西 鹿
When I parted from you at West Shaanxi, I spoke of returning to the eastern districts; though I kept to the Zhou tombs, I would still rely on the Jiang path—the three Jiangs left the catalpa, and the two Zhongs did not return. Elk and deer form their herds, and sorrowful feelings grow all the more. The cinnabar classic is in hand, yet poverty and illness cannot be harmonized; glossy ganoderma and atractylodes may be sought and are constantly gathered. In former days in our vigorous years, when you too were in your rich prime, we both met a time of brightness and rejoiced together in seclusion. Southern airs and elegant melodies, pure Shang and marvelous tunes—zithers and lutes at close seats, never lacking famous mornings. Jade dew and golden splendor—we hoped to attain difficult old age. We did not expect that in a single morning waves would overturn. I have already wearied of shade; you are not in your flourishing years. The bond of Qin and Shang each lies at the ends of heaven; ever remembering our lives together, it is hard to bear in the breast. For now you should watch the shade and count the arrows, drive off sorrow and break into tears. Human life is joy; what is sorrow for? How could one suddenly grieve for Cifang, whose wandering soul does not return? Far away he grieved for Jin; the text here is damaged in the manuscript. (Chan) [Yan], with no coffin to receive the bones. I only wish you would cherish your jade body and treasure your golden casket, preserve your years of ease, and enjoy white hair. I still hope the azure (Ying) [wild goose] and the red carp may from time to time convey a letter; clear wind and bright moon—all bear my longing. Ziyuan, Ziyuan—long is this parting! Grasping the tube and holding the writing tablet, voice and tears alike choke.
15
Soon afterward he went out as (Xuan) [Yi] provincial governor. He died in office at the age of sixty-four. His son Zi inherited.
16
Yu Xin, styled Zishan, came from Xinye in Nanyang. His grandfather Yi was a Qi Recluse Summoned. His father Jianwu was Liang Attendant Cavalier at Large and Director of the Secretariat.
17
From youth Xin was lofty and surpassing, with intelligence beyond his peers. He read widely among the classics and was especially skilled in the Zuo Commentary to the Spring and Autumn Annals. He stood eight feet tall, with a belt ten spans around; his bearing was striking and surpassed other men. He began his career as Regular Attendant of the Kingdom of Xiangdong and was transferred to Aide of the An'nan headquarters. At the time Jianwu was Liang Junior Tutor of the Heir Apparent and directed the secretariat records. Xu Ling of Donghai was Left Commandant of the Guards. Ling's son Ling and Xin were both Copying and Compiling Academicians. Father and son were in the Eastern Palace, entering and leaving the forbidden gates; in favor and ceremony none could compare with them. Since both had outstanding talent and their writings were alike ornate and brilliant, the age therefore called it the Xu–Yu style. The younger men of the time all took them as models in competition. Whenever there was a new piece of writing, the capital had none who did not pass it around and chant it. He was promoted in succession to Director of the Bureau of Revenue in the Ministry of Works and Regular Attendant of the Direct Office. He went out to be Vice Administrator of Ying province. He was soon given the added post of Attendant Cavalier at Large of the Direct Office and was sent on embassy to Eastern Wei. His literary compositions and diplomatic language were greatly praised below Ye. On his return he became an Eastern Palace academician and concurrently Magistrate of Jiankang.
18
退 使祿
When Hou Jing raised rebellion, Emperor Jianwen of Liang ordered Xin to lead more than a thousand civil and military officials of the palace in encamping at the Zhuque ford. When Jing arrived, Xin led the troops in retreating first. After the terrace city fell, Xin fled to Jiangling. When Emperor Yuan of Liang assumed the provisional regency, Xin was appointed Imperial Secretary. When he succeeded to the throne, Xin was transferred to General of the Right Guards, enfeoffed as Marquis of Wukang, and given the added rank of Attendant Cavalier at Large; he came on embassy to our court. Just then the great army marched south to attack, and he therefore remained at Chang'an. When Jiangling was pacified, he was appointed Bearer of the Staff, General Who Pacifies the Army, Household Counsellor with the Right of Golden Bells and Purple Pendants, and Chief Commander; he was soon promoted to General of Chariots and Cavalry and Director with the Third Rank of Honor.
19
When Emperor Xiaomin took the throne, Xin was enfeoffed as Viscount of Linqing with a fief of five hundred households and appointed Grand Master of the Bureau of Waterways. He went out as Administrator of Hongnong commandery, was transferred to General of Agile Cavalry, Director with the Third Rank of Honor and Opening Ceremony, and Grand Master of the Bureau of Justice, and was advanced in rank to Marquis of Yicheng. Before long he was appointed Governor of Luo province. Xin knew many old regulations; his governance was simple and quiet, and officials and people were at ease under him. At the time Chen was on friendly terms with the court, and scholars stranded north and south were each permitted to return to their former states. Chen therefore requested Wang Bao and Xin and more than ten others. Emperor Gaozu released only Wang Ke, Yin Buhai, and the like; Xin and Bao were both detained and not sent away. He was soon summoned to be Grand Master of the Bureau of the Imperial Clan.
20
Emperors Shizong and Gaozu were both fond of literature, and Xin received special favor and ceremony. As for the princes Zhao, Teng, and the rest, they treated him with intimate courtesy, as though he were a friend in plain cloth. The dukes and lords, for their stele inscriptions and dirges, largely entrusted him with the writing. Only Wang Bao was quite on a par with Xin; among the remaining literary men, none could reach them.
21
Though Xin's rank and position were eminent and manifest, he often had thoughts of his home district. He therefore composed "Lament for the South" to express his intent. Its words say:
22
In the year wuchen, in the month jianhai, the great robber shifted the state and Jinling collapsed. I then hid myself in a desolate valley; public and private alike were trampled in the mire. At Huayang I fled for my life—there was going but no returning; the way of restoration vanished and came to an end in jiaxu. For three days I wept at the capital pavilion; for three years I was a prisoner in the guest lodge. Heaven's way revolves through the stars; when things reach their limit they do not turn back. Fu Xie only grieved for his person and age and sought nothing to live for; Yuan An, whenever he thought of the royal house, naturally shed tears. Formerly the ambitions and affairs of Lord Mountain Huan and the life of Du Yuankai—both wrote books and could each set forth their own accounts. The literary splendor of Pan Yue first described his family style; the fu and poems of Lu Ji largely set forth the virtue of his age. When Xin was barely twenty he met with disorder and ruin; trifling was this wandering exile, down to old age. "Song of the Yan" was a distant parting, and grief could not master itself; when old men of Chu meet, what tears are left to shed? I feared the rain on the southern mountains, then suddenly trod the Qin court; yielded the shore of the eastern sea and then ate the Zhou millet. At Xiading I drifted in exile; at Gaoqiao I lodged as a captive—Chu songs were no way to take joy, and Lu wine had no power to banish grief. Pursuing (wei) [this] fu, I briefly set down words; it is not without words of peril and bitterness, but sorrow alone is its master.
23
西
The sun sets and the road is far—what age is this among men? The general once gone, the great tree sheds its leaves; the brave warrior does not return; the cold wind is bleak. Bian He gazed at the pillar; he received the linked cities yet was deceived; the covenant text lay across the steps; he held the pearl dish yet could not decide. The gentleman Zhong Yi entered and put on the southern-cap prisoner's garb; the envoy Jisun remained and kept watch at the lodge west of the river. Shen Baoxu beat his head upon the ground until it broke; Duke Ai of Cai wept until his tears were exhausted, and blood was added thereto. Willows moved on the angling terrace—not to be looked for from Jade Gate; cranes cried at Huating—how could the He Bridge be heard?
24
便
Sun Ce took the realm as three parts and commanded but one brigade; Xiang Yu used the youths of Jiangdong—only eight thousand men. Thereupon they split mountains and rivers and carved up the realm. Could a million righteous armies in one morning roll up their armor and be mowed down and hewn like grass and trees? The Yangtze and Huai had no barrier of shore; pavilion walls had no hedge of fence. Those who met with heads and gathered with winnowing baskets united in vertical-horizontal alliances; those with hoes and briers and thorn-staves took advantage and seized the moment. Could it be that the royal qi south of the Yangtze was fated to end after three hundred years? From this we know that even swallowing the six directions could not escape disaster on the Zhi road; unifying chariots and script could not save Pingyang from calamity. Alas! Mountains and hills have collapsed; I have already trodden the fate of peril and ruin; spring and autumn succeed one another—there must be grief at leaving the old. Heaven's intent and human affairs—things that can rend the heart with sorrow. Moreover, when the boat is burned and the road ends, the starry river is not to be ascended by raft; wind and storm block the way; Penglai has no date when one may arrive. The exhausted wish to express their words; the weary must sing their affairs. Lu Shiheng heard it and clapped his hands—this was what he would willingly accept; Zhang Pingzi saw it and deemed it base—it was fitting that he should.
25
穿
My family received the office of grain intendant from Zhou because of generations of merit and became a clan; it aided the state and assisted Han, taking discourse on the Way as the basis of office. It received jade and stone from Song and Hua and was moistened by the waves of the Yellow and Luo rivers. It dwelt facing the Luo with weight of generations; its town overlooked the river in tranquil security. When the hardships of Yongjia came, the Central Plain first lacked a lord. The people leaned on walls for pillows; roads were crossed by wolves and tigers. We met the five horses fleeing south and encountered the three stars gathering in the east. They built a state crossing the Yangtze; we were cast out with our ancestors. Nanyang was divided and fields granted; the eastern march was split and soil enfeoffed. Thatched huts were cut at Song Yu's dwelling; paths were bored through the mansion by the river. Wood and water alternated in their cycles; mountains and rivers collapsed and dried up. The family had the straight Way; many preserved their integrity. Training sons showed pure depth; serving the ruler displayed righteous fervor. In Xinye there was a shrine of living sacrifice; in Henan there was a stele of barbarian script. Moreover there was the recluse of Shaowei, the withdrawn man of Tianshan. The steps and courtyard were an empty valley; at gate and lane stood wagons of rushes. Talk moved to the lecturing tree; one approached the bamboo of brief writings. Descent brought forth the virtue of the age; birth bore forth the loyal minister. Literary words rose above the Jia Observatory; models flourished on the banks of Zhang. Alas, there was the Way but no phoenix; one sighed that it was not the time, yet there was a unicorn. Since treacherous and perverse men were hidden away, in the end they did not please men of benevolence.
26
西
In the year the prince was at the Luo ford, in the year Lancheng shot for office, he first held incense at Jianli and still spread his wings at Chongxian. He wandered the lecture hall of accumulated thunder and took his place among the bright departing caps; having tilted the gourd he drank the sea, he then measured the tube to peer at heaven. The square pond's water was white; the angling islet's pool was round. He attended military plans in the martial tent and listened to elegant melodies on the literary strings. Then he removed his suspension and entered the registry; he honored literature and joined with martial affairs. He dwelt in the imperial carriage district and commanded troops; he went out from Orchid Pool and directed the noon office. He discussed warfare with the lord of the Yangtze and Han and wiped the jade tablet for the master of Xihe.
27
西 使
At that time court and countryside rejoiced; pools and terraces sounded bells and drums. Within the lanes were caps and canopies; at the gates stood men of Zou and Lu. The luxuriant park was joined to Hailing; the cross embankment spanned the river mouth. At the eastern gate stone was whipped into a bridge; at the southern extremity bronze was cast into pillars. For trees, the park planted ten thousand trunks; for bamboo, each household was enfeoffed a thousand stalks. To the west came floating jade as tribute; to the south came submerged feathers as treasure. Wu songs and Yue chants; Jing beauty and Chu dance. Grass and trees borrowed the spring sun; fish and dragons obtained wind and rain. Within fifty years south of the Yangtze there was no disturbance. Wang Xi was marquis of harmonious kinship; Ban Chao was envoy who settled the distant. Ma Wu had no part in armor and weapons; Feng Tang was not discussed among generals and commanders. Who knew that mountains and hills would darken and rivers and lakes seethe in secret? At Fuyang there were garrison soldiers from the lanes' left; at Lishi there was a commandant who led troops.
28
殿
The Son of Heaven was just then expurgating the Odes and Documents and fixing ritual and music. He established lectures on heavy clouds and opened the Forest of Scholars academy. They discussed the ash of burned kalpa flying and debated the falling of the constant stars at night. The ground was level as fish scales; the city was perilous as beast horns. They lay the watchman's clapper at Xingyang and hobbled the dragon steeds at Pingle. Chief and assistant took weapons of war as children's play; girdled sashes took pure talk as court strategy. They rode a boat on rotted water with glue and drove galloping colts with a rotten rope. Petty men then approached fire and water; gentlemen were just then finishing the crane bath. A broken mat could not save the salt ponds' brine; donkey-hide glue could not stop the Yellow River's muddiness. Then bream and carp showed red tails; on the four borders there were many ramparts. The halls sported with river gulls; the palace cried with wild pheasants. Zhanlu left the state; the war-barge lost the water. One saw disheveled hair on the Yi River and knew the time had become Rong.
29
調
Those traitors and rebels grew rampant; long they wandered as souls and threw off restraint. Great ones were whales and krakens; small ones were owls and jackals. They relied on the strength of cattle and sheep and were fierce in their nature as water and grass. Not jade candles could harmonize them; how could the jade armillary be set right? When the realm was without action, they still had desires for bridling and tying. They drank their glazed wine and admired their tiger and leopard skins. They saw paulownia in Great Xia and recognized bird eggs in Tiaozhi. Wolf fangs were close and sharp; viper venom blew in secret. They lightly held the nine cauldrons and wished to inquire; hearing of the three rivers, they then peered in.
30
宿 殿
At first the prince summoned the Rong; treacherous ministers donned armor. They had abandoned government and withdrawn to a distance—and then their battle plans were betrayed. They hoped for fugitives from the Commandant of Punishments, but released Huainan's cornered rebels instead. Like the blue birds that flew from Di Spring, like trapped beasts stirring along the Heng River. Earth: stone drums thundered in the hills; heaven: the golden star stirred the constellations. Dragons moaned at the northern palaces; qilin clashed at Eastern Mound. Then the vicious and crafty stirred rebellion, overrunning the capital environs by force. Rebels seized Langwang in the imperial realm and packed Mount Lu with troops across the empire. Blue-clad soldiers spread like grass; white horses stretched like bolts of silk. The emperor canceled New Year court; the barbarian lord prolonged the siege and held a grand banquet. Halberds at the twin towers; a thousand palace gates struck by arrows. A white rainbow spanned the sun; a dark eagle attacked the hall. They suffered imprisonment as at Xia Terrace and beheld the fall of Yao's city. No one rushed to report for duty; arms were not raised to repel the enemy. Tao Kan loaded grain ships to no avail; Gu Rong waved his feather fan in vain. Generals died defending to the last; every escape route was sealed by siege. Beacon fires fell with the stars; messages flew away on kites. Armies split like Han and Zhao; drums toppled and banners snapped. Horses scattered like Ban's steeds; wheels strayed and ruts tangled. Brave men held the walls; advisers fell silent. Like Kunyang where elephants stampeded through the woods; like Changshan where serpents fled to their holes. Across five commanderies brothers mourned each other; in three provinces fathers and sons were torn apart.
31
鹿 鹿
The army protector was spirited and died a loyal death. Three generations of generals ended in ruin here. The loyal champion of Jiyang served among the rearguard. Three brothers together raised their voices in righteous defiance. The lord humiliated, the ministers died—fame survived, bodies did not. When the Di returned his severed head the whole army wept. The Master of Writings plotted well and excelled at holding the defenses. They repelled siege towers and blocked underground assaults. They shut the walls like Qi generals—but none held them like Yan's men. "The great cause is lost"—and with it, their lives. Shen Zi roused himself, courage thundering. He commanded the main force and led from the front. Helmets littered Fish Gate; corpses choked the horse stalls. Arrow after arrow found their mark; wound after wound peeled to the bone. Glory cut short before its time; name and body lost to obscurity. Some wore falcon wings in finch feathers; tigers' might that foxes borrowed. Soaked in blade and arrow; fat and marrow greased the wilderness. They were few, the enemy many; the city stood alone, morale spent. At the cry of cranes they panicked without cause; at nomad reeds they wept. They held Shenting and left their halberds; reached Hengjiang and abandoned their horses. They crumbled like at Julu; shattered like at Changping. Guilin fell; Long Isle ran with deer. Waters surged and boiled; darkness spread without end. Heaven and earth were torn apart; men and gods groaned under bitter wrath. Allies like Jin and Zheng had no one to trust; kin like Lu and Wei turned on each other. They shook the pivots of heaven and turned the axle of earth. Snatching sparrowhawks before they were full; awaiting bear paws before they could stew. Bodies piled at the outer gate; sinews hung from the temple eaves. Spirits connived as at the Cao shrine; men wept as at the envoy's plea in Qin.
32
使 祿
I forged seals at the frontier passes and passed myself off as an envoy answering summons. I met contempt at Eban Pass and tax at Ran Gate. On a white horse I could not advance; on a black mule I could not turn. I sailed a leaf-thin skiff; a long sail carried me upriver. Their teeth were saws, their claws hooks; they patrolled the river and drilled on the water. They lined Azure Dragon warships and fought from Flying Swallow towers. Like Zhang Liao at Red Cliffs, like Wang Jun at Baling. Suddenly wind rose and fire arrows flew; sometimes heavy with arrows the boats turned back. Before they could tell Huang Gai's ruse they had sunk like Du Yu. Sails fell at Yellow Crane Ford; ships hid at Parrot Isle. Ways parted at the Xiang and Han; the Dipper and Ox still shone above. As at Yinling where he lost the way; as the angling terrace leaned in flight. Gazing at Red Cliff he wet his robes; moored at the Wu River he could not cross. Leichi blocked the crossing; Que tomb's garrison burned. No smoke rose from inns; birds lost their nests. They trusted catalpa from Jingzhou and timber from Hengshan; they hoped the Yangzi and Han could shield them. From Huai to sea, holding Yangzhou—three thousand li and more. Like passing Spotted Islet for a meal; like hiding in the reeds to cross the water. He came to the seven marshes on the brink of ten deaths. Alas—divine protection unassured; anguish only beginning. He was never cut out for perilous deeds nor cared for salary and rank. By mistake he commanded the central army; unworthily he held the censor's post.
33
His birth seemed like crossing Dragon Gate; parting kin like leaving He and Luo. He inherited instructions on how to live and accepted the charge of the testament. Three generations without shame; now the seventh leaf falls at last. He wept like wind and rain on Mount Liang; like a dying fish on a hook. He took the winding path and shut the ramshackle gate of brambles. He sought angelica on the sandbar; waited for reeds to make a single robe.
34
西
Then the Hegemon of Western Chu reached Fanyang sword in hand. Battle raged at Golden Coffer; arms clashed at Jade Hall. Azure Hawk and Red Sparrow ships with iron prows and jagged masts. White horses were drowned to swear the host; the yellow dragon standard crossed the Xiang. Sea tides bore the fleet in; river weeds sped the king along. Chariots massed at Stone City; spear ships covered Huai and Si. Lords rode as Earl of Zheng in the van; the hegemon came at dusk like Xun Ying. They tore nests and smoked burrows; evil spirits fled in terror. Long Di was buried at Jumen; Chiyou was slain in Ji. Yet bellies served as lamps and skulls as cups. A straight rainbow pierced the camp; a long comet touched earth. Once they crouched like tigers, coiled like dragons, wrapped in purple mist and yellow banners—yet all ended in fox and rabbit warrens, perishing in wind and dust.
35
西 西
West to Bowang Terrace; north to the Dark Garden. Moon pavilions, wind towers, leveled pools, ancient trees. [Damaged text] He strung his bow at the Jade Maiden's window; tethered his horse to the Phoenix Tower pillar. The Renshou mirror hung useless; Maoling's books piled untouched. Those who established virtue and left words—counsel bright, service loyal. Fame beyond the attached record; teaching loftier than on the riverbank. They never met Floating Mound; the blind Music Master spoke no more. Pointing to a beloved son to entrust to another—knowing Western Mound, who still looks that way? They were not without armies at the northern palace nor arms on Cloud Terrace. Like the Minister of Works weaving inside and out; like Hu Yan toiling only for the king. Halberd laid crosswise, he faced the hegemon; gold drums in hand, he questioned the traitor at court. His pacification of Wu outshone even Du Yu's glory. The throne leaned on him more than it ever had on Wen Jiao. First a district bore the name "Whole Integrity"; at last a mountain was named for the innocent man wrongly killed. The scholar at Nanyang—how distant that age now seems. Hunting at Shangcai—how late the knowing came. Huan Wen, praised and proud from old campaigns, struck fear like a rising gale. He shot arrows at the river god; he lashed the mountain spirit before men's eyes. So the bear in its winter den crippled horses, and flood-dragons beneath the waves swallowed ships. Men of genius died in their prime—not one lived out a full century.
36
西
When the Middle Sovereign crushed rebels and stilled disorder, he washed away deep humiliation. Like Liu Bang leaving the lodge at Dai to seize the throne, like Tang moving the altars to carry on the rites. Old laws were restored in the capital; the refined style of Zhengshi returned. Buried in suspicion, he gave free rein to appetite; hiding his sickness, he preened on his own wit. The realm's business sank from sight; the great lords' loyalty began to shake. Soon northern ties with Qi were severed; trouble from Qin flared in the west. Worse still: pining for old Chu while abandoning the frontier pass, entrusting distant posts and opening the road to Wu. They drove outlaw bands of Green Forest troops against rebels from Lishan. They camped along the Liang and Shang rivers and pressed Ba and Yu for war-chariots. They questioned corrupt spirits and courted shamans who claimed to drive out evil. At Jingmen came Bao Yan's massacre; at Xiaoshou killings as wanton as at Kuiquan. They scorned kinship and the bonds of love; they drew bows in days meant for peace. High ministers at table had no plan—far from the counsel Ban Gu set forth in his Discourse on the Capital. They never weighed the five perils, yet seized both extremes for themselves. They fled to Yang city for refuge and clung to the bottom of the pillar seeking safety. Talk overflowed with jealous barbs; in deed he delighted in cruel punishments. Officials only watched the times shift and never rose to the crisis. Territory no larger than a mole on the skin; strongholds no bigger than pellets. Grievances turned to outrage; alliances turned to ice. No wronged bird could fill the sea; no fool could move a mountain—such labors were vain. Pestilence hung in the morning air; demons fell from the night sky. Red birds three mornings running blotted the sun; azure clouds seven layers deep ringed the imperial axle. The years of Wu's fall had run out; the year of entering Ying was spent.
37
西 使
Zhou nursed Zheng's wrath; Chu sealed Qin's vengeance—allies turned foes. The southern wind could not prevail; the western neighbor's rebuke fell upon them. Soon battering rams and siege towers surged forward; cavalry from Ji massed like clouds. Qin war-chariots lined the ramparts at Changgu; Han drums thundered piled at Leimen. They took Chencang with linked crossbows; they crossed Linjin with boats moored beam to beam. Chu still had its seven lakes; men still said "three households survive." No arrow bit the six elk; no thunder shook the nine tigers—the omens of defense failed. Farewell to Dongting and its falling leaves; farewell to Cenyang and the farthest shore. Fierce flames devoured the standards; a malign wind bred poison in the camp. Jade axles turned to ash; dragon-pattern blades hacked the palace pillars. South of the river, cities were few; at Changlin, only an abandoned camp remained. They dreamed of starving the enemy's horses but never deployed the fire-ox stratagem. Zhang Manzhi fled with nothing but his carriage wheels; Gong Zhiqi went into exile with all his kin. Horses crossed rivers not yet frozen; cocks crowed before the passes were clear at dawn. Loyal ministers were torn limb from limb; gentlemen dared not speak aloud. At Zhanghua they once looked out on ritual sacrifice; at Yunmeng they staged imperial tours that were mere pretense. In a desolate vale the Mo'ao hung himself; at Yefu princes were imprisoned by their own generals. Men fell into hidden pits and were torn apart; like hawks and falcons, soldiers struck and swept all before them. Frost of injustice fell in summer; springs of wrath boiled in autumn. Walls crumbled at the wailing of the woman of Qi; bamboo ran dark with the tears of the Xiang queens.
38
The waters were as bitter as Qin's Jing River; the mountains as steep as Zhao's Xing passes. Ten li here, five li there—post stations long and short marked every stage of exile. Hunger dogged them like swallows returning to winter sleep; darkness followed like drifting fireflies. The waters of Qin ran black; the mud on the frontier passes turned green. Then empires shattered like tile and ice; kin scattered like wind and lightning. For a thousand li all was one blur; the Zi and the Shi could no longer be told apart. Snow dimmed the horizon like blown sand; ice lay across the road like a second shore. One met Lu Ji on the road to Luoyang; one saw Wang Can driven from his home. All who heard the waters of Longshui wept in secret; all who faced the frontier passes sighed long. Worse still when the husband was at Jiaohe and the wife on the Clear Wave—worlds apart. The stone that watched for her husband grew ever more distant; the mountain that watched for her son grew ever more numerous. A man of letters yearned for Dai; a princess was sent away to Qinghe. At Xuyang Pavilion someone wrote a fu of farewell; the Prince of Linjiang composed a song of grief. Others drifted through Wuwei; others were exiled to Jinwei. Ban Chao was born already longing for home; Wen Xu died still thinking of return. Li Ling's paired ducks were gone forever; only Su Wu's lone goose flew back in vain.
39
Jiangling's fall once foretold was the beginning of Jinling's ruin. Though foreign armies lent their force, the blow came from within the house. The ruler who had put down chaos was suddenly no more; the line meant to restore the dynasty went unsacrificed. Elder brother and younger alike were slaughtered by the nephew's son. When the magpie flew from Jing Mountain, jade shattered; when the snake was born on the Sui shore, the pearl died. Ghost fires flickered through Ping Forest; the souls of the young were shaken in Xin Market. Liang's former glory was uprooted; Chu in truth perished as Qin had. Without what is cast away, how can anything flourish? The line of You Gui was nourished at last by the house of Jiang. I surrendered the sacred regalia and lived on as a king who had yielded the throne. "The greatest virtue of Heaven and earth is to give life; the greatest treasure of the sage is the throne." They set worthless heirs on the throne and threw away all of Jiangdong. They cherished the realm as one household—yet met the ill-omened air of the southeast. Heaven gave the Quinshou mansions to Qin—why is the sky so drunk with error!
40
西
Heaven's course turns in circles, and mortal lives are written within its wheel. My fierce forebears of Western Jin first fled east along the rivers. By my own day we had been seven generations in the south—and then, in my time, we were driven north again. I led the old and the young through passes and rivers, year upon year. "In life or death, in union or parting"—that no longer admits questioning Heaven. And now my line is nearly spent, while the Spirit Light Temple still stands towering alone. The year turns at the sun's rest in the Ji lodge; a new cycle is about to begin. Peril presses in upon my thoughts; upright grief attends my aging years. I walk the sacred terraces of Changle and look toward the noble lanes of Xuanping. The Wei River runs through Heaven Gate; Mount Li curves back above the markets of the underworld. I am welcomed as a cherished guest of the great general in his headquarters, tended as Zhu Gongzi once tended men of talent. I see great houses like Jin and Zhang with their bronze bells; I hear music like that of Xu and Shi. Who would have known that the general hunting by night at Baling was still the man of former days? A plain-cloth man in Xianyang—I am not the only prince who longs to go home.
41
Early in the Daxiang reign, he resigned on account of illness and died. Emperor Wen of Sui deeply mourned him, restored his former rank, and added the post of Governor over Jing and Huai provinces. His son Li succeeded him.
42
The historian says: When the two principles took their places and sun and moon spread their radiance, astronomy was made manifest; the Eight Trigrams were displayed and writing with knotted cords arose—human culture was made detailed. As for what the grave cords record, none can speak of it in the clouds; from the canonical tombs downward, surviving winds can be narrated. Thus Qufu had many talents and many arts, examining the two dynasties to rectify the root; at Que village, nature and the Way of Heaven—he cultivated the Six Classics to sustain the branch. Therefore he could compass heaven and earth and be the warp and woof of human relations. Exhausting spirit and knowing transformation, he was called foremost through a thousand ages; ordering the state and weaving custom, his hidden usefulness was stored for a hundred generations. Supreme indeed! This is truly the composing of a sage.
43
Down to the two Zhou, the Way was lost and the seventy meanings diverged. At Yanzhong and Jixia, the eight Ru and three Mo—debating and expansive discourses swarmed forth; Zhuang Zhou, Qin Gu, Legalism, military affairs, and agriculture—grand and unrestrained writings gathered like mist. Though elegant instructions and profound meanings were not in every case perfect, examining their strong points, they were surely the source and flow of the worthy and accomplished.
44
Afterward the banished minister Qu Ping composed "Encountering Sorrow" to set forth his intent—great talent and splendid outpouring, with the beauty of compassionate feeling. Song Yu, poet of the southern states, pursued the flying traces and ranked just below him. The great Ru Xun Kuang, in fu on ritual and wisdom set forth his feelings—rich pattern rose in profusion, with the meaning of indirect remonstrance. Jia Yi, talented youth of Luoyang, followed the clear scene and raised his radiance. All alike molded nature and spirit and wove elegance and refinement; in the making of ci and fu they were truly the crown.
45
From this time compositions and narratives grew ever more numerous and forms were not one. After Emperor Xiaowu, elegance honored this culture; those who waved blossoms and shook brilliance were like a forest, while Sima, Wang, and Yang were the outstanding; in the Eastern Capital court this path burned all the brighter; those who chewed measures and held notes formed a market, while Ban, Fu, Zhang, and Cai were the heroes. When the Tufu received the mandate, they especially loved insect seal script; the Jin line rose vigorously without failing the former glory. Cao, Wang, Chen, and Ruan bore expansive thought and stood as ridgepoles in the Deng forest; Pan, Lu, Zhang, and Zuo possessed extravagant and beautiful talent and adorned feather regalia at the phoenix nest. These all gazed down on their age and linked balances with the Confucian gate. Though the times shifted and substance and pattern changed again and again, it is like the six dynasties all in harmony—the use of changing custom is not awry; the nine streams race in pursuit, yet the principle of unity returns the same. Choosing former worthies through the ages, at this point they were most abundant.
46
Then the Central Plain was overthrown and Rong and Di invaded each other; false claimants succeeded one another and scholars and people were trampled in charcoal—therefore literary writing was set aside. Those who pondered deeply amid warfare and wielded the brush beneath spear and blade also appeared from time to time. Such men as Lu Hui, Du Guang, Xu Guang, and Yin Bi were famed in the two Zhao; Song Yan, Feng Yi, Zhu Tong, and Liang Dang and their kind were honored in Yan and Qin. Yet all were pressed by haste and dragged by war. In competing to present proclamations and dispatches, they were splendid to behold; in embodying things and tracing feeling, they were desolate in the world. It was not that their talent had superior and inferior—times and fortune were so. As for the northern desert lands, that tiny barbarian custom—Hu Yizhou's hymn to the capital was sufficient to be called grand and beautiful; in the narrow west of the river, yet scholars matched those of the Central Plain—Liu Yanming's inscription for Jiuquan may be called pure and canonical. The Master said, "In a hamlet of ten houses there must be loyalty and trust"—was it an empty saying?
47
西
Down to Wei, they fixed the tripod on the desert north, embraced the Yellow and Huai in the south, and swallowed Pass and Long in the west. Scholars of the time—Xu Qian, Cui Hong, Cui Hao, Gao Yun, Gao Lü, You Ya, and others—between earlier and later, fame and substance alike flourished; their phrasing was canonical and correct, with the surviving splendor of Yongjia. In the Taihe years, though they again honored elegant culture, carriage shafts ran side by side on the road yet mostly missed the former track—crossing the sea and pausing at the mountain, they rarely met fine treasure. Afterward Yuan Fan was praised for tranquil elegance and Chang Jing's thought was deep and somber—refined indeed, they were the outstanding talents of a single age.
48
When Zhou founded its enterprise, fortune belonged to decline. They gathered surviving writings after what was lost and sought extraordinary men as though they could not catch up. Therefore men such as Su Liang, Su Chuo, Lu Rou, Tang Jin, Yuan Wei, and Li Chang all flourished scale and wing and attained purple and scarlet of their own accord. Yet Chuo proposed that one should keep to plain simplicity, therefore he winnowed out Wei and Jin and took the statutes of Yu and Xia as model. Though in composing words he had the beauty of taking the ancients as teacher, correcting excess was not what the time could use, and therefore it could not be constantly practiced.
49
Then war chariots flashed like lightning and the Zhu palace vanished in clouds. Then catalpa and zizhu of Jing and Heng, bamboo arrows of the southeast—many were prepared as vessels for the ancestral temple. Only Wang Bao and Yu Xin, extraordinary talents standing above the rest, encompassed a whole age. At that time Emperor Shizong's elegant words piled like clouds; the princes of Teng and Zhao sent forth carved chapters in turn. All built empty lodges at their palaces, with friendship like men in plain cloth. Thus among courtiers and lane scholars, none failed to savor the lingering tones and be dazzled by the last gleam. It was like hills and mounds looking up to Song and Dai, or streams looking to the eastern sea and Bohai.
50
Thus the writings of Zishan took their source at the end of Song and flourished greatly in the Liang season. Their substance took dissipation and license as root; their words took lightness and peril as banner. Therefore they could dazzle the eye and extravagantly display crimson and purple, and unsettle the heart beyond Zheng and Wey. Formerly Yang Ziyun said: "The fu of poets is beautiful yet regulated; the fu of rhetoricians is beautiful yet dissolute." If one compares the Yu clan to this, they are again criminals among ci and fu.
51
殿 調
Tracing it to the root, the making of literary writing rests on feeling and nature. Deep thought then transforms without limit; forming words then branches and streams extend broadly. Though poetry and fu differ in carriage from memorials and proposals, and inscriptions and dirges differ in path from letters and discourses, gathering their essentials and raising their general outline, nothing surpasses taking qi as lord and transmitting intent through pattern. Examining their ranking and fixing their territories, plucking the flower of the Six Classics and the hundred schools, probing the hidden depths of Qu, Song, Xun, and Yun. Its tone values distance; its aim lies in depth; its principle esteems fitness; its words desire craft. Then one polishes gold and jade, scatters orchid and iris, substance and pattern according to fitness, complexity and simplicity suiting change, balancing weight and measuring past and present—harmonious yet strong, beautiful yet canonical, brilliant as the five colors form their pattern, profuse as the eight tones join in concert. Thus Wei Wen's so-called comprehensive talent is sufficient to complete the form, and Shiheng's so-called difficulty is sufficient to reach the intent.
52
The full text was collated against the Zhonghua Book Company edition of the Book of Zhou, November 1971.
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