Du Fu Does Not Like Conscription (2/n)

The war is destroying whole families

The Sergeant of Shihao
Du Fu

That evening I stayed in a village, Shihao,
Where a sergeant was rounding up conscripts at night.
I saw the old man climb his wall and escape
As the old woman answered the knock at their door.
Oh my, the sergeant fair bellowed with rage!
Oh my, the old woman so bitterly wailed!
I heard her step forward and try to explain,
“My three sons all served in the Xiangzhou campaign.
One of them sent me a letter to say
The other two died in the latest attack.
He survived, but just by the skin of his teeth;
The two that are gone will never come back.
There aren’t any more men to take in this house,
My grandson’s so tiny he hasn’t yet weaned.
His mother stays here because of the baby
But can’t leave the house as her clothes are all tattered.
I’m just an old biddy and haven’t much strength,
But let me go back with you, sergeant, tonight.
Let’s hurry now to the camp at Heyang,
I reckon that I could prepare them some breakfast.”
Late in the night, when the voices had stopped,
It seemed I heard quiet weeping and moans.
My journey continued next morning at sunup—
I made my goodbyes to the old man alone.

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Du Fu continued his trek through the China in the late stages of the civil war that followed the An Lushan rebellion.

The attack at Xiangzhou, also known as the city of Ye, was one of the major defeats of the Tang forces in the later stages of the rebellion.

Du Fu seems endearingly clueless about sex, as ever. The prurient trope of a woman being so poor that she doesn’t have enough clothing even to cover herself seems jarringly out of place in this poem, with its very serious and high-minded theme of the misery inflicted on ordinary people by war. Nonetheless, there it is, flotsam cast up by Du’s irrepressible poetic mind.

This must be one of the most translated poems from the Tang, but none of the published versions seem to contain much to recommend them. A. Z. Foreman’s version is excellent. As with the first poem in this series, this poem is Du Fu’s reportage, with very little decoration, just a verite style that looks unblinkingly at the pity of the situation.

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杜甫  石壕吏

暮投石壕村， 有吏夜捉人。

 老翁逾墙走， 老妇出门看。

吏呼一何怒！ 妇啼一何苦！

听妇前致词： “三男邺城戍。

一男附书至， 二男新战死。

存者且偷生， 死者长已矣！

室中更无人， 惟有乳下孙，

有孙母未去， 出入无完裙。

老妪力虽衰， 请从吏夜归，

急应河阳役， 犹得备晨炊。”

夜久语声绝， 如闻泣幽咽。

天明登前途， 独与老翁别。