Chill River (5) Meng Jiao This river is a crooked straight, A scaly, scaly dragon white. The frozen blast’s a shattered shriek, A diced mélange that stings the dales. Here’s my stylus and here’s my slate, And here are words stuck in my throat. There’s more love in those that fly and lope! Just break the bowstring, fearsome man, And they’re eager guests to their final breath. Hereby enact this strict taboo: Convene no killings of the small. And then how white, how pearly pure, Auspicious aether everywhere! The sun and moon will be scrubbed clean, And sapphire skies will shine with stars! But as I stand in snow and sing, A thousand worries rise anew. The liar star winks, the tongue star wags... But none of them will change my mind. King Yao didn’t listen to the likes of you! Confucius was no king, but men Were loyal to him as subjects are. My proclamation’s written out; How hard it was to clearly state The ancient arguments it makes. Chill River (6) Meng Jiao “Whatever freezes, we may eat. And deadly winds will never cease...” If weapons make our mercy work, It’s mercy at the point of a sword, And swordpoint mercy stinks. No man Can honourably seek it out. Those waves draw blades of ice, and slice Each other like old enemies. 孟郊 寒溪·其五 一曲一直水,白龙何鳞鳞。 冻飙杂碎号,齑音坑谷辛。 柧椾吃无力,飞走更相仁。 猛弓一折弦,馀喘争来宾。 大严此之立,小杀不复陈。 皎皎何皎皎,氤氲复氤氲。 瑞晴刷日月,高碧开星辰。 独立两脚雪,孤吟千虑新。 天欃徒昭昭,箕舌虚龂龂。 尧圣不听汝,孔微亦有臣。 谏书竟成章,古义终难陈。 孟郊 寒溪·其六 因冻死得食,杀风仍不休。 以兵为仁义,仁义生刀头。 刀头仁义腥,君子不可求。 波澜抽剑冰,相劈如仇雠。
These two poems are central to Meng Jiao’s Chill River series, and he seems to be conducting an exercise in practical ethics.
In poem 4 of the series, the animals prayed to heaven for help, and now, in poem 5, Meng is answering that prayer. On the animals’ behalf, he writes something that is intended to ban hunting. If he succeeds, then the animals will be our guests and the world will be wonderful. However, the stars seem to argue against him, and so he draws inspiration and fortitude from the examples of the mythic sage-king Yao, who he claims never listened to the stars; and Confucius, who wasn’t a king, but was so good that he was treated like one. It’s not obvious that these exemplars necessarily support Meng’s case, because I don’t think either was a vegetarian. But they help him to reject what he sees as bad lobbying from the stars.
In poem 6 he considers the problem of eating roadkill, or in this case, eating animals killed by the cold. Meng decides it should not be allowed because it would be like allowing indirect killing: letting the winter do the hunting for you.
At least, that seems to be the current consensus on what these poems mean. 5 is unreadable, constantly switching back and forth without letting the reader know what it’s doing. It seems very likely that we are missing some background context about what those stars mean, a story about Yao, and what it means to have animals be our guests. I’ve tried to leave some of the difficulty in the poem, so some of the turns may seem unclear in the translation: that’s because they are even more unclear in the source! But the central points of banning hunting and the ethical problem of roadkill are plain enough.
Curiously, despite the vegetarian theme, this poem doesn’t mention Buddhist ideas at all. Meng seems to want to be merciful to the animals purely because they are suffering, and we are their sovereigns - a pure Confucian motivation. This is supported by the reference to Confucius as a model to be followed.
The original has subtle use of characters.
"It is dark, and the wind comes down the grotto and hits the warrior from behind." A short story - it will be either Friday or Saturday.