The Orphan

CHINESE POEMS

THE ORPHAN

To be an orphan,

To be fated to be an orphan,

How bitter is this lot!

When my father and mother were alive

I used to ride in a fine carriage

Driving four horses;

But when my father and mother died,

My brother and his wife made of me a merchant.

In the South I travelled to the Nine Rivers

And in the East as far as Ch'i and Lu.

At the end of the year when I came home

I dared not tell them what I had suffered-

Of the lice and vermin in my head,

Of the dust in my face and eyes.

My brother told me to get ready the dinner;

My sister-in-law told me to see after the horses.

I was always going up into the hall

And running down again to the parlor.

My tears fell like a shower of rain.

In the morning they sent me to draw water;

I didn't get back till night-fall.

My hands were all sore,

And I hadn't any shoes;

I walked the cold earth

Treading on the thorns and brambles.

Arthur Waley

As I stopped to pull out the thorns,

How bitter my heart was!-

My tears fell and fell

And I went on sobbing and sobbing,

In winter I have no great-coat,

Nor in summer thin clothes.

It is no pleasure to be alive;

1 had rather quickly leave this earth

And go beneath the Yellow Springs.

The April winds blow

And the grass grows so green:

In the third month, silk worms and muiberries;

In the sixth month, the melon-harvest.

I went out with the melon-cart,

And just as I was coming home

The melon-cart turned over.

The people who came to help me were few,

But the people who ate the melons were many.

All they left me was the stalks;

I took them home as fast as I could.

My brother and sister-in-law were harsh;

They asked me all sorts of awful questions.

Why does every one in the village blame me?

I want to write a letter and send it

To my father and mother under the carth

And tell them I can't go on any longer

Living with my brother and my sister-in-law.

Anonymous-First Century B.C.