236 CHINESE LITERATURE
But who across the centuries
can hope to mark each spot
Where fool and hero, joined in death, beneath the brambles rotf n
The grave student Ch'eng Hao wrote verses like the rest. Sometimes he even condescended to jest :
" I wander north, I wander south,
I rest me where I please. . . . See how the river-banks are nipped
beneath the autumn breeze ! Yet what care I if autumn blasts
the river-banks lay bare f The loss of hue to river-banks
is the river-banks' affair."
In the eleventh and twelfth centuries HUNG CHUEH- FAN made a name for himself as a poet and calligraphist, but he finally yielded to the fascination of Buddhism and took orders as a priest. This is no trifling ordeal. From three to nine pastilles are placed upon the shaven scalp of the candidate, and are allowed to burn down into the flesh, leaving an indelible scar. Here is a poem by him, written probably before monasticism had damped his natural ardour :
" Two green silk ropes, with painted stand,
from heights aerial swing, And there outside the house a maid
disports herself in spring. Along the ground her blood-red skirts
all swiftly swishing fly, As though to bear her off to be
an angel in the sky. Strewed thick with fluttering almond-blooms
the painted stand is seen; The embroidered ropes flit to and fro
amid the willow green.
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