Chu-i Po

Here you will find the Long Poem Song of Unending Sorrow. of poet Chu-i Po

Song of Unending Sorrow.

China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire, 
Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding, 
Till a little child of the Yang clan, hardly even grown, 
Bred in an inner chamber, with no one knowing her, 
But with graces granted by heaven and not to be concealed, 
At last one day was chosen for the imperial household. 
If she but turned her head and smiled, there were cast a hundred spells, 
And the powder and paint of the Six Palaces faded into nothing. 
...It was early spring. They bathed her in the FlowerPure Pool, 
Which warmed and smoothed the creamy-tinted crystal of her skin, 
And, because of her languor, a maid was lifting her 
When first the Emperor noticed her and chose her for his bride. 
The cloud of her hair, petal of her cheek, gold ripples of her crown when she moved, 
Were sheltered on spring evenings by warm hibiscus curtains; 
But nights of spring were short and the sun arose too soon, 
And the Emperor, from that time forth, forsook his early hearings 
And lavished all his time on her with feasts and revelry, 
His mistress of the spring, his despot of the night. 
There were other ladies in his court, three thousand of rare beauty, 
But his favours to three thousand were concentered in one body. 
By the time she was dressed in her Golden Chamber, it would be almost evening; 
And when tables were cleared in the Tower of Jade, she would loiter, slow with wine. 
Her sisters and her brothers all were given titles; 
And, because she so illumined and glorified her clan, 
She brought to every father, every mother through the empire, 
Happiness when a girl was born rather than a boy. 
...High rose Li Palace, entering blue clouds, 
And far and wide the breezes carried magical notes 
Of soft song and slow dance, of string and bamboo music. 
The Emperor's eyes could never gaze on her enough- 
Till war-drums, booming from Yuyang, shocked the whole earth 
And broke the tunes of The Rainbow Skirt and the Feathered Coat. 
The Forbidden City, the nine-tiered palace, loomed in the dust 
From thousands of horses and chariots headed southwest. 
The imperial flag opened the way, now moving and now pausing- - 
But thirty miles from the capital, beyond the western gate, 
The men of the army stopped, not one of them would stir 
Till under their horses' hoofs they might trample those moth- eyebrows.... 
Flowery hairpins fell to the ground, no one picked them up, 
And a green and white jade hair-tassel and a yellowgold hair- bird. 
The Emperor could not save her, he could only cover his face. 
And later when he turned to look, the place of blood and tears 
Was hidden in a yellow dust blown by a cold wind. 
... At the cleft of the Dagger-Tower Trail they crisscrossed through a cloud-line 
Under Omei Mountain. The last few came. 
Flags and banners lost their colour in the fading sunlight.... 
But as waters of Shu are always green and its mountains always blue, 
So changeless was His Majesty's love and deeper than the days. 
He stared at the desolate moon from his temporary palace. 
He heard bell-notes in the evening rain, cutting at his breast. 
And when heaven and earth resumed their round and the dragon car faced home, 
The Emperor clung to the spot and would not turn away 
From the soil along the Mawei slope, under which was buried 
That memory, that anguish. Where was her jade-white face? 
Ruler and lords, when eyes would meet, wept upon their coats 
As they rode, with loose rein, slowly eastward, back to the capital. 
...The pools, the gardens, the palace, all were just as before, 
The Lake Taiye hibiscus, the Weiyang Palace willows; 
But a petal was like her face and a willow-leaf her eyebrow -- 
And what could he do but cry whenever he looked at them? 
...Peach-trees and plum-trees blossomed, in the winds of spring; 
Lakka-foliage fell to the ground, after autumn rains; 
The Western and Southern Palaces were littered with late grasses, 
And the steps were mounded with red leaves that no one swept away. 
Her Pear-Garden Players became white-haired 
And the eunuchs thin-eyebrowed in her Court of PepperTrees; 
Over the throne flew fire-flies, while he brooded in the twilight. 
He would lengthen the lamp-wick to its end and still could never sleep. 
Bell and drum would slowly toll the dragging nighthours 
And the River of Stars grow sharp in the sky, just before dawn, 
And the porcelain mandarin-ducks on the roof grow thick with morning frost 
And his covers of kingfisher-blue feel lonelier and colder 
With the distance between life and death year after year; 
And yet no beloved spirit ever visited his dreams. 
...At Lingqiong lived a Taoist priest who was a guest of heaven, 
Able to summon spirits by his concentrated mind. 
And people were so moved by the Empero