[A Satire on Militarism]
At Hsin-fēng an old man — four-score and eight;
The hair on his head and the hair of his eyebrows — white as the new snow.
Leaning on the shoulders of his great-grandchildren, he walks in front of the Inn;
With his left arm he leans on their shoulders; his right arm is broken.
I asked the old man how many years had passed since he broke his arm;
I also asked the cause of the injury, how and why it happened?
The old man said he was born and reared in the District of Hsin-fēng;
At the time of his birth — a wise reign; no wars or discords.
"Often I listened in the Pear-Tree Garden to the sound of flute and song;
Naught I knew of banner and lance; nothing of arrow or bow.
Then came the wars of T'ien-pao[1] and the great levy of men;
Of three men in each house,— one man was taken.
And those to whom the lot fell, where were they taken to?
Five months' journey, a thousand miles — away to Yün-nan.
We heard it said that in Yün-nan there flows the Lu River;
- ↑ A. D. 742–755.
