The Ballad of the Army Carts Du Fu Squeals from war horses, rumbling carts, With quivers and bows at their waists, the men march, As parents and children and wives say farewells, The churning dust hides Xianyang Bridge's great arch. They cling and they kick and they clutch and they wail, Cloud-piercing wails as each loved one departs. A traveller questions one man marching by, "The draft never stops," is his only reply. "At fifteen they station us north on the river, At forty out west on the farms for supply. We leave when the elders still help tie our turbans, Come back with hair white, then return to the line. Out in the borders the blood's like a sea. 'Keep going!' the Emperor Wu has decreed. Haven't you heard? In the eastern Han Empire, all two hundred counties, There's thorns now on thousands of farms gone to seed. The women are strong, they work hoes and their ploughs, But millet's grown wild and has swamped the farm bounds. It's us from the west bear the brunt of the fighting, Herded no better than gamecocks or hounds. Ask me, sir? Of course you may. But it's not my place to say. Even though... us western troops Got no winter break to plant. Now district lords come wanting rent How can bare farms pay? They can't. A boy was once a happy birth, Now girls are blessings, sons a curse. A daughter could possibly marry a neighbour, But sons all too soon join the weeds in the earth. Haven't you seen? By Lake Qinghai's cold stones, Ancient, unburied, the piles of white bones? Fresh souls still rage there, the old ghosts just weep. And the sodden grey sky moans and moans and moans." 杜甫 兵车行 车辚辚，马萧萧，行人弓箭各在腰。 耶娘妻子走相送，尘埃不见咸阳桥。 牵衣顿足拦道哭，哭声直上干云霄。 道旁过者问行人，行人但云点行频。 或从十五北防河，便至四十西营田。 去时里正与裹头，归来头白还戍边。 边庭流血成海水，武皇开边意未已。 君不闻，汉家山东二百州，千村万落生荆杞？ 纵有健妇把锄犁，禾生陇亩无东西。 况复秦兵耐苦战，被驱不异犬与鸡。 长者虽有问，役夫敢申恨。 且如今年冬，未休关西卒。 县官急索租，租税从何出？ 信知生男恶，反是生女好。 生女犹得嫁比邻，生男埋没随百草。 君不见，青海头，古来白骨无人收？ 新鬼烦冤旧鬼哭，天阴雨湿声啾啾。
This is a great one - I always thought Du Fu's "Ballad of the Army Carts" would pair well with Bai Juyi's brutal ballad about the old man with the shattered arm:
夜深不敢使人知，偷將大石錘折臂。
張弓簸旗俱不堪，從茲始免徵雲南。
骨碎筋傷非不苦，且圖揀退歸鄉土。
Late at night, so no one else would see,
I smashed my arm with a rock until it snapped.
Useless now for bow or banner,
but good enough to get me out of Yunnan.
Bones shattered, tendons ripped -- it hurt, of course,
In ‘07 I was walking around Chengdu and stumbled upon the complex that said it was DuFu’s home. Walking through the grounds, the courtyard, reading his poetry, drinking tea at a table- I was blow away by his poetry. I do think of the Chinese zither- type instrument that has it’s haunting quality as a perfect match for this type of poetry.
Yes, it's a lovely complex. I'm a bit afraid to go back - as China's got richer, more people are travelling, and I'm worried that it will be absolutely packed with visitors, which might take away from the point of the place somewhat. But it's amazing to sit there and think, yes, this is (maybe) where a refugee poet 1000+ years ago settled for a little while, and created absolute masterpieces.
This particular poem predates his thatched cottage days. There was still an emperor at this point, and Du Fu was trying to persuade him to give up on his incessant wars. Emperor Xuanzong's wars were actually being fought in the south, on the Sichuan/Yunnan border, but it would have been too on-the-nose to mention that directly. So Du uses the Han Dynasty wars of expansion in Tibet as a stand-in to make the same point: the war is draining the country.
You are really talented, like poet laureate talented。 I hope you write your own poems since i dont think any famous award recognizes poetic translations. I would like to be wrong, you really rang that bell!!
That's a wonderful recommendation. That melody has the quality I love in certain Christmas carols, where the lyrics are (mainly) uplifting, but the tune has these minor inflections that make it sound like a dirge (like God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen). That contrast seems to be part of what makes them sound so powerful. I think you're right that this kind of tune could accommodate the level of seriousness that Du Fu is trying to convey here.
In 2003, I came across this book in an short illustrated volume (by John Groth) at the center table in a small used bookstore. The owner (who I had come to know) looked at me with a gleam in his eye and said "you're going to like this".
"This poem needs no commentary." To true.
This is a great one - I always thought Du Fu's "Ballad of the Army Carts" would pair well with Bai Juyi's brutal ballad about the old man with the shattered arm:
夜深不敢使人知，偷將大石錘折臂。
張弓簸旗俱不堪，從茲始免徵雲南。
骨碎筋傷非不苦，且圖揀退歸鄉土。
Late at night, so no one else would see,
I smashed my arm with a rock until it snapped.
Useless now for bow or banner,
but good enough to get me out of Yunnan.
Bones shattered, tendons ripped -- it hurt, of course,
But I was set on getting out. On getting home.
That's fantastic, thank you!
Brilliant!
In ‘07 I was walking around Chengdu and stumbled upon the complex that said it was DuFu’s home. Walking through the grounds, the courtyard, reading his poetry, drinking tea at a table- I was blow away by his poetry. I do think of the Chinese zither- type instrument that has it’s haunting quality as a perfect match for this type of poetry.
Yes, it's a lovely complex. I'm a bit afraid to go back - as China's got richer, more people are travelling, and I'm worried that it will be absolutely packed with visitors, which might take away from the point of the place somewhat. But it's amazing to sit there and think, yes, this is (maybe) where a refugee poet 1000+ years ago settled for a little while, and created absolute masterpieces.
This particular poem predates his thatched cottage days. There was still an emperor at this point, and Du Fu was trying to persuade him to give up on his incessant wars. Emperor Xuanzong's wars were actually being fought in the south, on the Sichuan/Yunnan border, but it would have been too on-the-nose to mention that directly. So Du uses the Han Dynasty wars of expansion in Tibet as a stand-in to make the same point: the war is draining the country.
You are really talented, like poet laureate talented。 I hope you write your own poems since i dont think any famous award recognizes poetic translations. I would like to be wrong, you really rang that bell!!
You have to play with wording and meter, but the old Scottish psalm tune “St. Kilda” works well for the tone. Haunting, plaintive.
That's a wonderful recommendation. That melody has the quality I love in certain Christmas carols, where the lyrics are (mainly) uplifting, but the tune has these minor inflections that make it sound like a dirge (like God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen). That contrast seems to be part of what makes them sound so powerful. I think you're right that this kind of tune could accommodate the level of seriousness that Du Fu is trying to convey here.
I came here to say that this poem would be a great tonal fit for a lot of Scottish folk music, but didn't have any specific recommendations.
Powerful. This ballad reminds me of Mark Twain's "The War Prayer".
Thank you. I'd never read that before, and it's gorgeous.
In 2003, I came across this book in an short illustrated volume (by John Groth) at the center table in a small used bookstore. The owner (who I had come to know) looked at me with a gleam in his eye and said "you're going to like this".
https://archive.org/details/warprayer0000mark/mode/2up