孟郊诗

Poems of Meng Jiao


Index

杀气不在边

We Don't Kill People Here


杀气不在边
凛然中国秋
道险不在山
平地有摧輈

We don't kill people here.
In China, this autumn, fear is everywhere.
The dangerous roads aren't up in these hills.
It's in the lowlands that travel breaks down.

河南又起兵
清浊俱锁流
岂唯私客艰
拥滞官行舟

South of the river, they rise up in arms -- again,
Because the natural flow of goodness is dammed away.
How could it not be difficult for the solitary exile
To navigate this stagnant, overwhelming state?

况余隔晨昏
去家成阻修
忽然两鬓雪
同是一日愁

What's more, day and night, you are obstructed.
You leave home only to find your progress blocked.
Suddenly, you find your hair's turned white, as
Sadness or anxiety fills all your days.

独寝夜难晓
起视星汉浮
凉风荡天地
日夕声飕飗

Alone, you go to bed and struggle towards the dawn.
So you rise and gaze up at all the stars.
You let the cool wind wash the world away.
Now everything is only its long sigh.

万物无少色
兆人皆老忧
长策苟未立
丈夫诚可羞

The universe itself is not impoverished.
It's that most men spend their lives in fear.
Their big plans amount to blades of grass and
Their bravery only leads to shame.

灵响复何事
剑鸣思戮雠

Why should the divine voice return when
All your swords can think of is killing?

-- 孟郊


废话

It is hard to place this poem in Meng Jiao's life. War and rebellion were a constant in the Tang. He's up in the mountains (or hills) which could mean he is still in his wandering days. Or he could be out camping to avoid Chang'an rents in his early forties. The hair turning white is not much help. These poets seem to view grey hair the way many women do: one is as bad as a million. I got my first grey hairs when I was twenty-one. And anyone whose life passes over hard miles gets grey hairs. If he's going to bed alone, it's after his first wife died and before he remarries. But first wife dies early in his wandering years and I don't think he remarries until he's an official. So again, no help in dating the poem. Best guess is that he is in his late thirties or early forties.


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