ALARM AT FIRST ENTERING THE YANG-TZE GORGES
Written in 818, when he was being towed up the rapids to Chung-chou.
Above, a mountain ten thousand feet high:
Below, a river a thousand fathoms deep.
A strip of green, walled by cliffs of stone:
Wide enough for the passage of a single reed.[1]
At Chü-t'ang a straight cleft yawns:
At Yen-yü islands block the stream.
Long before night the walls are black with dusk;
Without wind white waves rise.
The big rocks are like a flat sword:
The little rocks resemble ivory tusks.
We are stuck fast and cannot move a step.
How much the less, three hundred miles?[2]
Frail and slender, the twisted-bamboo rope:
Weak, the dangerous hold of the towers' feet.
A single slip — the whole convoy lost:
And my life hangs on this thread!
I have heard a saying "He that has an upright heart
Shall walk scathless through the lands of Man and Mo."[3]
