1. Tiger Leaping Gorge

beginning with a children's song from the Shi-ching
(Book of Songs, Arthur Waley's translation)

The Little Lady of Ch'ing-Ch'i

Her door opened on the white water
Close by the side of the timber bridge;
That's where the little lady lived
All alone without a lover.

 

Your door opened on the white water
Close by the leaping stone
A stranger in the land
Alone with your anxious heart.

 

The roaring stream below, snow peaks above
Curve after curve, the mountain road
Thinking of the prince who went wandering
And did not return.

 

High, high above, my friend
At ease among the snow peaks
Without thought of going back
Ready to float up to the clouds.

With this mountain-grass broom
I, too, would join the immortals
It got lost along the way
There's nothing left to do but wait.

 

Sun rising behind Jade Dragon
Sun setting behind Mount Haba
Deep in the gorge, unobserved
Flinging stones into the rapids below.

 

Sheer rock faces closing in, inch-wide the sky
Sudden silence; where did the river go?
Intruding upon a spirit world
We ought to tread as on thin ice.

 

Tread as on thin ice, muffle the heartbeat
With luck we'll clear the passage
Painted bright, face to face
Awe and dread guard house and temple gate.

 

What are you doing here, child, alone
High up by the dust road?
Grandma's down in the drop
Where healing grasses grow...

 

Wait, wait, little boy,
She will surely return!

 

At full stars site, dashing spray
Travellers stop to gaze, time passing on –
Here, in these living eyes, I see
Waiting still, another lonely, towering form.

 

Gorge narrowing, gorge opening up again
Green water crashing, white water leaping
Arms or hearts, which is the more violent
I cannot say.

 

With prayer-bead words, with streamer clouds
With the remembered line, with the forgotten poems
With everything inscribed, with everything washed away
With a long way yet to White Face Peak Refuge.

 

Waking up in the shadow of White Face Peak
So close, close almost to touch –
Yet its crevices run so deep
Nothing could thread them green nor grief soothe.

 

in a lighter vein...

 

Not really, really a château but a mountain lodge
Not really hermit poets musing, tranquil and grand
Mist, plus pavilion, plus lake – mostly polluted –
Just us, prince and queens having breakfast.

 

…and for crown jewels, seeds
from the castor-oil tree
three to plant – will grow or not – three to keep
for delight.

 

Bright little colts, so smart in your snap-shot gear!
Should an offer to ride
straight into the tomb of some unfortunate princess
be declined?

 

Though I, too, would love a dress of pure jade
I count the years left, some bleak, some bright
And the horses of my suite
I'd rather see trotting beside me on the mountain road.

 

In the river, reflected, a dress of jade
I count the floating peaks, the years
And the horses of my suite
Trotting beside me on the mountain road.

 

If the stone drum were struck
Could it be heard deep in third gorge?
At first bend, laughing and shouting
Here we tread lightly, make haste.

 

Laughing and shouting, who cares?
Birds on the dance-floor sand in March
Tracing the characters for 'gold' and 'sand'
The June rains will sweep clear.

 

It's getting late by miracle lake
For two hours people fished – caught plenty
Then the torrent broke through the landslide
Where do we cross over?

 

With this kind of craft
With no landing in sight –
Smoke for luck!
No choice but trust.

 

As leaf on current
by counter-current clasped
in midstream
ever floats all care out of the world.

 

Sun setting, blue stars pouring
Down over Eastern Slope
Raise your cup to all flowers
Raise your eyes to the dragon clouds.

 

* * *

Go to Part 2 of Yunnan Sketches

Copyright © Karin Lessing, 2004.