It was many years ago, when I was young. A boy who I fell in love with was injured heavily protecting me
It was hopeless when he arrived at the hospital. They had to amputate him
I knew how important that limb was to him
But I could do nothing other than smiling at him

When the incident took place I was there
I saw that machine rolled over and crunched his hand
There was so much blood, everywhere, dripping along the way we ran
My heart ached from running and my tears froze on my face
I loved him too much. Too much to witness the pain he went through for me
I held his left hand and kissed him
Because I knew it would be the last farewell
His blood dripped on my hair, bathed it clean

I washed my hair three times a day
But couldn’t get the scent off it
His scent and his blood
I cut off my long hair, but it was useless
Then one day, I started pulling off my own hair
One by one, pulled off from the roots
I could not feel the pain, but a relieve of stress and burden
When I was at school, by myself, reading, writing, crying, missing him, I pulled my hair
It was uncontrollable
So my hair lessened by time, and I have to use decorations to hide it

At the same time tomorrow I would arrive at the country where my father resides, and finish my university degree there
The doctor said the best treatment for me is to find a new environment and leave the past to the past
I choose this method
Because I still love him
Only if I leave entirely can I forget momentarily

Like the night many years ago, J was unusually calm. He fixed the girl’s hair and wiped off the short cut off hair. She stood up and put the bandana back on.
Much better, now I can leave it grow abroad. She spoke to the mirror merrily.
…Hope you get well soon. He looked at the floor, not wanting to see her face.
Thanks.
Then came the sudden silence. Neither awkward nor comfortable. It was a silence as deep as the bottomless night. The sun shone as it always had, the obsolete style. Master in his short gowns, black iron scissors, and the power puff used to wipe out the remaining cut out hair. A whitewood tall chair, a six-month out-of-dated newspaper, and a small cart containing three layers of plastic curl clippers. People laughed and cried, at least they were alive. Now they die.
How much do I pay? The girl asked.
I’m not sure. J was not familiar with the current market.
She thought for a while and took out a $20 note from her wallet, left it on the dresser.
She turned around, tried to leave but stayed. Put her hand in the pocket on her dress, and looked at him.
J finally raised his head and looked into her eyes.
N’s eyes.

He opened his misshaped right hand hesitantly, as he did many years ago with a healthy hand warm and strong. She took out a handful of coins, and put them in his deformed palm, one by one.
Thank you. Bye.
Come again. He said, the only thing he could remember to tell a customer when they were about to leave.
She left. He sat into the chair. N’s scent, soft and warm, surrounded him stubbornly. Like that nightmarish night, when her lips and tears surrounded him.
And let him experienced the deepest happiness.

He had a meeting to attend.
She had a plane to catch.
J cleaned up and left the salon, closing the glass doors behind him.

Only the enlarged black and white photo taken at the early 90s, hanging in a golden glass frame, placed on the wall opposite the window in that room. The last ray of day touched the surface of the glass.
His fingers placed lightly on her silky black hair.
Such limpid smiles.

Here's another parody story, about Sharon XD Sorry sis!

Sharon and Thomas

The party was loud and festive, the people were dancing, moving and weaving through the crowd as one. The disco music in the background injected adrenaline into the veins of everyone present. The atmosphere was that of a raging storm. All were happy, hyped up and excited, all except for one.
Sharon stood on the second floor landing, looking down at the action, but not really seeing it. She was motionless, and there was a glaze in her eyes that could only be from a flashback of memories.
… 10 years before …
Sharon looked about the great hall, it was lined with huge round tables to seat 12. On top of each table hung a dazzling chandelier, which made the hall sparkle with dancing diamonds. In the middle of the rows of tables were two sweeping grand staircases, which curved upwards to either side of the second floor. The floor was made up of white marble and it was polished so heavily that you could see your reflection in it.
The general architecture of the hall could be described as that of old English style. The ceiling was patterned with vines and so were the designs on the double doors, which opened to the entrance.
Sharon was sitting at a round table, which was surrounded by 12 highly polished wooden chairs. And in those chairs sat 12 highly polished businessmen and their families.
"So, Susanna darling, please do tell me where you brought your lovely dress. Oh my, I have seen nothing so pretty, and it shines as bright as sunlight." Said one of the businessmen's wives to Sharon's mother.
"Oh thank you dear, Cameron bought it for me when he was coming back from an overseas trip. He thought I would look more lively in it." Susanna giggled and looked across at her husband with affection.

Cameron was silent and appeared to be deep in thoughts. He had wavy dark brown hair and a clean-shaven face, but his most recognisable feature had to be his dashing emerald eyes, they shone with delight and sparkled when he smiled. He wore an elegant suit, which must be the same price as one week's wages of an average worker. His shoes were made of quality Italian leather and shone so brightly it could have taken month to polish it. He was what women called the ideal man and what men called their role model.
Two seats to the left of this one-of-a-kind-male sat Susanna. She indeed looked lovely in her stylish yellow dress, her straight black hair flowed down her back seamlessly, as if it were made of silk. She looked much younger than Cameron, and much more outgoing. Her voice was heart warming and her eyes were bright and merry. It seemed that she could want nothing else, perfect husband, perfect daughter, perfect life…
Between Cameron and Susanna sat Sharon. She was 18 years old but she looked younger, and on her face there was the expression of pure boredom. She had inherited her mother's hair, but not her mother's personality. She disliked to be involved in other people's affairs and was not interested in having conversations with her parents' friends and their families. She had always regarded those people as arrogant, even her own family. All in all you could say that she was a very pessimistic girl, although she was not always that way.
"So Sharon, how old are you now?" Asked a young woman from across the table.
"She has just turned 18." Said Susanna when Sharon did not appear to hear the question.
The women sitting opposite Sharon looked slightly startled by her silence but she recovered quickly and started on another subject.

Sharon was used to the luxurious dinner, the formal dresses and the never-ending chatter of the businessmen. Her father was one of them, he was a director of SQUARE corp. Which was a very large company, and he attended business meetings and functions every week. Sharon usually went to these functions, she had to, it was what her father called "family time" and "keeping up appearances".
Family time would be right, thought Sharon. It was the only time she ever saw her father at a place other than home. She often wondered whether her father ever felt lonely with all those long hours at the office. Coming home in the midnight hours and leaving before dawn.
Sharon thought back to the time when she was young, the time when she was feeling down or lonely, she would go and talk to her father and feel much better afterwards. But now, with her father at work all the time, she had only her mother and the maids to talk to at home. But whenever she did talk to them she had the feeling that they did not take her seriously and that she could not have a proper conversation with them.
"Why am I so dull?" Sharon asked herself quietly. People like herself are meant to be charming and classy, not dull. Only the maids and servants are dull, or so they say. Maybe I should get out more and talk to people… but… why bother? Gosh, what am I thinking?
Sharon pulled herself out of her thoughts and scanned around the room once more. As she did her eyes fell on something quite different. A lone waiter was standing in the corner of this vast hall. He wore what all other waiters wore, but for some reason he stood out. Maybe it was because he looked younger, Sharon didn't know, but for some reason he out of all people caught her attention.

Thomas had just handed a group of ladies their drinks when he had the feeling that someone was looking at him. He looked up and found himself staring at a black haired girl wearing a white evening dress. She looked about 17 and had beautiful emerald eyes.
The girl waved Thomas over to join her, he hesitated, then went over to her table.
"How may I help you?" asked Thomas in the way he had been taught.
"Umm… I err…" Sharon suddenly found herself speechless, something that was not new to her.
Thomas stared at her expression and smiled.
"That's okay," he said, "you can take as much time as you want. Folks here like to think thoroughly before they order."
Sharon looked at him closely, he had an honest, hard working face and soft brown eyes. On his waiter's shirt there was a badge that said "Thomas Milton". To be honest, she didn't even know why she had called him over, it was just something she did.
"Sorry, but I do not want anything right now, sorry." Muttered Sharon awkwardly.
"Well, can't I even get you a drink?" smiled Thomas.
"Umm…"
"You don't have to drink it, most people who order drinks don't actually drink any." Thomas persisted.
"Hmm… then I will just have a glass of apple juice thanks," said Sharon. She was slightly startled by his cheerful personality. He was a low class waiter, someone who had no future, and yet here he was, smiling happily.
"Sure, won't be long. I'll be right back before you know it." Said Thomas as he walked away and left Sharon to ponder her thoughts.
He talks just like any low class citizen, but he was graceful in the way he walked and talked. Like he had a class of his own. I guess he was a bit sweet. Maybe it is true what some people say about low class citizens, they are more than just what you see. And with that thought Sharon decided to have a conversation with Thomas when he got back.

Thomas hurried through the crowd of people, he was eager to get back to the girl. And therefore he did not notice where he was going. He almost reached the girl when he ran right into someone else and tripped, he fell face forward and as he stretched out his hand to break his fall, he dropped the glass of apple juice he was carrying.
The glass of apple juice smashed on the marble floor and broke into a thousand jagged fragments. Thomas looked up and saw the contents of the glass spilt all over the girl's white dress. What was worse was that the person he had ran into was none other than the manager of the function hall!
Sharon stood up in shock, she was covered with apple juice. It was staining her dress, little trickles of foul brown liquid mixing and staining the whiteness of her evening gown.
Thomas now too stood up, the owner of the function hall was trying to calm everyone down. Thomas felt that he was in a dream, frozen in time. He didn't know what to do, what to say or whether he should be doing anything at all.
Sharon felt her numb fingers work again, she tried not to look at the disgusting stain on her dress. Instead she focused on the waiter, the idiotic waiter who couldn't keep his own feet, someone who was so stupid that he could not even fetch a glass of apple juice. Sharon felt the anger rising in her to a degree of almost hatred.

… 5 years later …
Sharon sat nervously in the waiting room, waiting for her name to be called out. The waiting room was dark and bare, the only furniture was some chairs and a table with some magazines on it.
Sharon picked up a magazine from the table and flipped through it. But it was too dark too read the print and she soon felt strained and tired. And before long she fell into a weary slumber.
"Sharon Smith! Sharon Smith!" the high-pitched voice of the receptionist woke her up with a start.
Sharon made her way to the office and opened the door.
"Come in, do please sit down." A charming voice echoed.
The office was modern and spacious, in front of Sharon was a large office desk with many papers and documents clustered on top of it. Behind it a young men sat on a stylish armchair, the manager of the company. He had a handsome face, chiselled chin and soft brown eyes, which reminded her of someone she had met long ago…
"So, you are applying for a job with our establishment?" The charming voice continued.
"Yes, I really need this job." Sharon felt her ears redden, which often happened on such interviews. But nevertheless she continued. "I have all the qualifications and I can meet all the requirements listed here. I am a very determined person and I will not…"
"Hold on," the well-mannered voice interrupted Sharon. "Haven't we met before?"
Sharon's eyes shone with trepidation as her fears were realised. For she suddenly knew whom that well-mannered, charming person behind the desk was.

"Oh, I know! You are the daughter of Cameron Smith. The director of SQUARE corp.! But… but… then, why are you applying for this job?"
Sharon felt the wave of humiliation hit her, as if a tidal wave was approaching, and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. She did not want to continue this interview but she had to, she needed this job, she needed the money.
"SQUARE corp. collapsed and my father went bankrupt. I am living by my self and I do not rely on support from my father." Close to tears, Sharon glanced at the young manager; he looked sympathetic.
"Well, I have looked through your resume and I believe that you are perfect for the job. So Sharon Smith, welcome to Function House Pty Ltd! I have not introduced myself yet have I? I am Thomas Milton and I will have ordered your waitress uniform by Monday, so you can start as early as next week. I will be looking forward to more conversations with you after you start working." And with that Thomas led Sharon out of the office.
"Thank you," stumbled Sharon as she walked out of the building. Looking back, she saw a large sandstone building which housed many functions and parties, which she had spent a great deal of her youth attending and which she will spend even more time working at in the future.

The End


Moral of the story, don't be too up yourself! :wink:

The realist - A vision of war

I have this feeling…that our lives will be taking a sudden turn in no time. There will be war, be famine, be pain, be death. But we will remain untouched, but only on the surface. For our souls will be greatly shaken as we witness the deconstruction of our used-to-be familiar world. Hitherto, here had been no war for quite a generation. And now it is our turn to experience despair, bitterness, shock, and the hot-blooded excitement the War brings us. Even though we’d rather prefer not having that unique adventure. But as history is written by blood, and God (if he does exist) has already written the history that is yet to come—we are left with no choice but to wait, and see. We are the cursed witnesses and the forced witnesses, unreadily waiting to watch the bloodshed happening on this very own world.

So, for those innocent eyes not yet spoiled by the image of so much deconstruction, war will teach us a lesson. See how men kill each other, how men create those miserable weapons; how men in the 21st century still make such barbaric acts. The abundant amount of artistic constructions full of cultural or religious legacy, which men themselves had built from generation to generation, only waiting for the day when greediness and stubbornness seduce men to destroy them. Driven mad by their selfishness, men are more willing to destroy the most precious thing of all—the gift of nature, the fruit of all intelligence—life.

The War is inevitable. It is a way to punish the human being. Nature is a balancing act. We are the most gifted among all living beings, but we are also born with the worst sins. We love killings. We love dominating. We love power. Every man is a warmonger. It is for this very reason that we could never have world peace. It is us that start the war and hurt ourselves; we need time to heal the wound. But once we are cured, we hunger for the War again. If curiosity killed the cat, it sure will transform into the form of War and kill us.

In everyday livings, good is always in a fight with evil. In fairy tales, good always overcome evil. But in realities, one can never know that much. To us young ones, those sins and desires are buried deeply in our minds as well. War is the best baptism. When we come out of the river of blood, or at least see the river of blood, we would know more about ourselves. Many went crazy after wars. For they could not accept the simple fact of who we are, what we are.

And to me, I remain realistic.

A series of writing excercises

Taking a random sentence out of a book, and writting a drabble with each word in that sentece the beginning of a new paragraph.

Pg 247 – She sweeps up the rest of Simon’s chips and eats them sourly.

She opened the door to find his room totally trashed, obliterated, as if it was an abandoned construction site.
Sweeps came running after her, his expression, normally so placid, turned to one of pain and anger.
Up and up went the two of them, examining room after room in the lighthouse.
The beds ripped apart, the wallpaper peeled off, bookshelves broken to pieces and tossed aside.
Rest of the furniture suffered no better, wood splinters covered the ground, reminding her of a smothering blanket.
Of course, this is what they have come to expect, after his last phone call, it is to be expected.
Simon’s voice had sounded startlingly normal and calm on the other side of the receiver, and yet they could tell, that foreboding heavy air gripped their hearts tightly.
Chips of wood fell down from the ceiling.
And Mr Sweeps’ called to her from the floor above.
“Eats… all gone… devoured.”
“Them medications?”
Sourly she raced up the stairs, mindful of the missing steps, expecting the worst as always.

Random drabbles

-Inside the mind of a psychomaniac

Feeling… what? The clock ticks on, forever on, as if a sentence, forcing him to live a lifetime in despair. The minute hand moved slowly, the hour hand moved even slower, every hour, so precious, and yet so hateful. He can not live like this, that he knew. He had to get out, that he knew. Get out of where? The twisted recess of his own mind? Always hungering after new flesh, new blood. Or the barren cage which holds him? Restricting his wings, restricting his soul. He didn’t know what to feel, or rather, he didn’t know how to feel, it’s been too long, too long…

-Life does exist elsewhere.

For centuries humans have asked ourselves this question, are there any other life forms in this great big universe? The answer is yes of course. The universe is too gigantic to be described, possibly even stretching into infinity. There are countless stars, each star is just like our own sun. And each star have planets circulating around them, just like how the earth revolves around the sun. So there must be in all a measureless number of planets.

In those planets, there must be at least one which satisfies the conditions to be able to sustain life. After all, the earth could sustain life because it had an environment, and atmosphere, which was created by the fact that it’s not to close or too distant from the sun. There will be plenty of other planets which are also at a distance from their star which allows them to have an atmosphere, and with that, comes life.

This is not all the case however, there’s nothing to say that organisms on other planets requires the same conditions as organisms on earth. Indeed, they may live on nitrogen, on sulphur, or purely on their star’s ultraviolet rays, who is to say so? Our universe is simply too big to allow intelligent beings to communicate with intelligent beings of another planet, but who knows, maybe one day, before the earth dies, we shall see.

A Patch of Blue

My Dearest Gordon,

I miss you. I have been thinking about you every night since the incident at the park. I have lain in my bed awake for hours trying to think about what had happened, and yet I don't want to because the memories are so painful. I can't remember much of that day, maybe it's because I don't want to. I'm really sorry about the things I said about you. I was confused, scared and I felt like I was caught in a thunderstorm.

I hope with all my heart that you are okay. My life was like a tunnel, and the further I went the darker it became, with no hope in sight. You were like the light at the end of the tunnel to me. You gave me the will to go on and the knowledge that someday I will get out of the tunnel, and find a better life on the other side. So Gordon, please, be my ray of hope and don't give up on me!

I felt ashamed of the way I behaved, you were the one thing that was ever really important to me, and I just could not accept the fact that you are black. I had hated black ever since I was young. It is the only colour that I ever saw after I was blinded, and I don't want anymore of it. I do not only hate black, I am also scared of it. I always hated being left in the dark all the time, I felt that I was all alone, and I hated that feeling. But I have changed now, I am not afraid of the dark anymore, because you, Gordon, had shown me that black is not something evil, and there is no difference between white and black people.

After that day in the park, the welfare authorities took me away from Rose-ann. I'm now under the care of your friend Alice Braddon. And she is typing up this letter for me, since I cannot yet read Braille, but I'm learning, and making good progress. You should hear some of the things I've been told! The first time I heard that blind people could actually go to work in offices like normal people I was thrilled! It was unbelievable!

I used to think that blind people were a burden on society taking up their time and energy. Which is what Rose-ann always said, that I was just a no good waste and of no use to anyone. But now I have decided that I will study and become a writer someday, and write books for blind people to read, to encourage them to get on with their lives.

I love school and I have learnt so much from it, I have made lots of friends here. I can't believe how nice people are to me! And there are not only blind people studying here, there are also deaf people, disabled people and lots of others who have problems. I feel happy here because I can truly fit in. Not standing aside like an outsider, which is the way I felt before I knew you.

Rose-ann now lives with Sadie in their new apartment. I miss her too, even if she did all those things to me, she is still my mother, and nothing can change that. Old Pa is now in a nursing home, he is currently being treated for cancer. I visited him a number of times, and I thought that he seemed to be happier than before.

Gordon. The very thought of your name gives me heartache. Please, please forgive me and come and see me. I would love to hear your voice again. It is because of you that my life is now so wonderful. It is because of you that now I can live my life to the max and enjoy every moment of it. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused. Please come and see me soon. Thank you for all that you've done for me.


Love always
Selina

Some poetry, brushing up on translation skills, Rafe's guide helped so greatedly, bows down to the King of translations <3 I've tried to make it rythm! Yay, but the translation is suffering as a result XD I can't win ;_;

A prince am I of ancestry renowned,
Illustrious name my royal sire hath found.
When Sirius did in spring its light display,
A child was born, and Tiger marked the day.
When first upon my face my lord's eye glanced,
For me auspicious names he straight advanced,
Denoting that in me Heaven's marks divine
Should with the virtues of the earth combine.
With lavished innate qualities indued,
By art and skill my talents I renewed;
Angelic herbs and sweet selineas too,
And orchids late that by the water grew,
I wove for ornament; till creeping Time,
Like water flowing, stole away my prime.
Magnolias of the glade I plucked at dawn,
At eve beside the stream took winter-thorn.
Without delay the sun and moon sped fast,
In swift succession spring and autumn passed;
The fallen flowers lay scattered on the ground,
The dusk might fall before my dream was found.

Had I not loved my prime and spurned the vile,
Why should I not have changed my former style?
My chariot drawn by steeds of race divine
I urged; to guide the king my sole design.

Three ancient kings there were so pure and true
That round them every fragrant flower grew;
Cassia and pepper of the mountain-side
With melilotus white in clusters vied.
Two monarchs then, who high renown received,
Followed the kingly way, their goal achieved.
Two princes proud by lust their reign abused,
Sought easier path, and their own steps confused.
The faction for illict pleasure longed;
Dreadful their way where hidden perils thronged.
Danger against myself could not appal,
But feared I lest my sovereign's sceptre fall.

Forward and back I hastened in my quest,
Followed the former kings, and took no rest.
The prince my true integrity defamed,
Gave ear to slander, high his anger flamed;
Integrity I knew could not avail,
Yet still endured; my lord I would not fail.
Celestial spheres my witness be on high,
I strove but for his sacred majesty.
Twas first to me he gave his plighted word,
But soon repenting other counsel heard.
For me departure could arouse no pain;
I grieved to see his royal purpose vain.

Continued :O

Nine fields of orchids at one time I grew,
For melilot a hundred acres too,
And fifty acres for the azalea bright,
The rumex fragrant and the lichen white.
I longed to see them yielding blossoms rare,
And thought in season due the spoil to share.
I did not grieve to see them die away,
But grieved because midst weeds they did decay.

Insatiable in lust and greediness
The faction strove, and tired not of excess;
Themselves condoning, others they'd decry,
And steep their hearts in envious jealousy.

Insatiably they seized what they desired,
It was not that to which my heart aspired.
As old age unrelenting hurried near,
Lest my fair name should fail was all my fear.
Dew from magnolia leaves I drank at dawn,
At eve for food were aster petals borne;
And loving thus the simple and the fair,
How should I for my sallow features care?
With gathered vines I strung valeria white,
And mixed with blue wistaria petals bright,
And melilotus matched with cassia sweet,
With ivy green and tendrils long to meet.
Life I adapted to the ancient way,
Leaving the manners of the present day;
Thus unconforming to the modern age,
The path I followed of a bygone sage.

Long did I sigh and wipe away my tears,
To see my people bowed by griefs and fears.
Though I my gifts enhanced and curbed my pride,
At morn they'd mock me, would at eve deride;
First cursed that I angelica should wear,
Then cursed me for my melilotus fair.
But since my heart did love such purity,
I'd not regret a thousand deaths to die.

I marvel at the folly of the king,
So heedless of his people's suffering.
They envied me my mothlike eyebrows fine,
And so my name his damsels did malign.
Truly to craft alone their praise they paid,
The square in measuring they disobeyed;
The use of common rules they held debased;
With confidence their crooked lines they traced.

In sadness plunged and sunk in deepest gloom,
Alone I drove on to my dreary doom.
In exile rather would I meet my end,
Than to the baseness of their ways descend.
Remote the eagle spurns the common range,
Nor deigns since time began its way to change;
A circle fits not with a square design;
Their different ways could not be merged with mine.
Yet still my heart I checked and curbed my pride,
Their blame endured and their reproach beside.
To die for righteousness alone I sought,
For this was what the ancient sages taught.

I failed my former errors to discern;
I tarried long, but now I would return.
My steeds I wheeled back to their former way,
Lest all too long down the wrong path I stray.
On orchid-covered bank I loosed my steed,
And let him gallop by the flow'ry mead
At will. Rejected now and in disgrace,
I would retire to cultivate my grace.
With cress leaves green my simple gown I made,
With lilies white my rustic garb did braid.
Why should I grieve to go unrecognised,
Since in my heart fragrance was truly prized?
My headdress then high-pinnacled I raised,
Lengthened my pendents, where bright jewels blazed.
Others may smirch their fragrance and bright hues,
My innocence is proof against abuse.
Oft I looked back, gazed to the distance still,
Longed in the wilderness to roam at will.
Splendid my ornaments together vied,
With all the fragrance of the flowers beside;
All men had pleasures in their various ways,
My pleasure was to cultivate my grace.
I would not change, though they my body rend;
How could my heart be wrested from its end?

My handmaid fair, with countenance demure,
Entreated me allegiance to abjure:
"A hero perished in the plain ill-starred,
Where pigmies stayed their plumage to discard.
Why lovest thou thy grace and purity,
Alone dost hold thy splendid virtue high?
Lentils and weeds the prince's chamber fill:
Why holdest thou aloof with stubborn will?
Thou canst not one by one the crowd persuade,
And who the purpose of our heart hath weighed?
Faction and strife the world hath ever loved;
Heeding me not, why standest thou removed?"

Okay, taking a long break before I do anymore x_X

I sought th'ancestral voice to ease my woe.
Alas, how one so proud could sink so low!
To barbarous south I went across the stream;
Before the ancient I began my theme:
"With odes divine there came a monarch's son,
Whose revels unrestrained were never done;
In antics wild, to coming perils blind,
He fought his brother, and his sway declined.
The royal archer, in his wanton chase
For foxes huge, his kingdom did disgrace.
Such wantonness predicts no happy end;
His queen was stolen by his loyal friend.
The traitor's son, clad in prodigious might,
In incest sinned and cared not what was right.
He revelled all his days, forgetting all;
His head at last in treachery did fall.
And then the prince, who counsels disobeyed,
Did court disaster, and his kingdom fade.
A prince his sage in burning cauldrons tossed;
His glorious dynasty ere long was lost.

"But stern and pious was their ancient sire,
And his successor too did faith inspire;
Exalted were the wise, the able used,
The rule was kept and never was abused.
The august heaven, with unbiassed grace,
All men discerns, and helps the virtuous race;
Sagacious princes through their virtuous deed
The earth inherit, and their reigns succeed.
The past I probed, the future so to scan,
And found these rules that guide the life of man:
A man unjust in deed who would engage?
Whom should men take as guide except the sage?
In mortal dangers death I have defied,
Yet could look back, and cast regret aside.
Who strove, their tool's defects accounting nought,
Like ancient sages were to cauldrons brought."
Thus I despaired, my face with sad tears marred,
Mourning with bitterness my years ill-starred;
And melilotus leaves I took to stem
The tears that streamed down to my garment's hem.
Soiling my gown, to plead my case I kneeled;
Th'ancestral voice the path to me revealed.

Swift jade-green dragons, birds with plumage gold,
I harnessed to the whirlwind, and behold,
At daybreak from the land of plane-trees grey,
I came to paradise ere close of day.
I wished within the sacred brove to rest,
But now the sun was sinking in the west;
The driver of the sun I bade to stay,
Ere with the setting rays we haste away.
The way was long, and wrapped in gloom did seem,
As I urged on to seek my vanished dream.

The dragons quenched their thirst beside the lake
Where bathed the sun, whilst I upon the brake
Fastened my reins; a golden bough I sought
To brush the sun, and tarred there in sport.
The pale moon's charioteer I then bade lead,
The master of the winds swiftly succeed;
Before, the royal blue bird cleared the way;
The lord of thunder urged me to delay.
I bade the phoenix scan the heaven wide;
But vainly day and night its course it tried;
The gathering whirlwinds drove it from my sight,
Rushing with lowering clouds to check my flight;
Sifting and merging in the firmament,
Above, below, in various hues they went.

The gate-keeper of heaven I bade give place,
But leaning on his door he scanned my face;
The day grew dark, and now was nearly spent;
Idly my orchids into wreaths I bent.
The virtuous and the vile in darkness merged;
They veiled my virtue, by their envy urged.
At dawn the waters white I left behind;
My steed stayed by the portals of the wind;
Yet, gazing back, a bitter grief I felt
That in the lofty crag no damsel dwelt.

I wandered eastward to the palace green,
And pendents sought where jasper boughs were seen,
And vowed that they, before their splendour fade,
As gift should go to grace the loveliest maid.
The lord of clouds I then bade mount the sky
To seek the steam where once the nymph did lie;
As pledge I gave my belt of splendid sheen,
My councillor appointed go-between.
Fleeting and wilful like capricious cloud,
Her obstinacy swift no change allowed.
At dusk retired she to the crag withdrawn,
Her hair beside the stream she washed at dawn.
Exulting in her beauty and her pride,
Pleasure she worshipped, and no whim denied;
So fair of form, so careless of all grace,
I turned to take another in her place.

To earth's extremities I sought my bride,
And urged my train through all the heaven wide.
Upon a lofty crag of jasper green
The beauteous princess of the west was seen.
The falcon then I bade entreat the maid,
But he, demurring, would my course dissuade;
The turtle-dove cooed soft and off did fly,
But I mistrusted his frivolity.
Like whelp in doubt, like timid fox in fear,
I wished to go, but wandered ever near.
With nuptial gifts the phoenix swiftly went;
I feared the prince had won her ere I sent.
I longed to travel far, yet with no bourn,
I could but wander aimless and forlorn.
Before the young king was in marriage bound,
The royal sisters twain might still be found;
My suit was unauspicious at the best;
I knew I had small hope in my request.

The world is dark, and envious of my grace;
They veil my virture and the evil praise.
Thy chamber dark lies in recesses deep,
Sagacious prince, risest thou not from sleep?
My zeal unknown the prince would not descry;
How could I bear this harsh eternity?

With mistletoe and herbs of magic worth,
I urged the witch the future to show forth.
"If two attain perfection they must meet,
But who is there that would thy virtue greet?
Far the nine continents their realm display;
Why here to seek thy bride doth thou delay?
Away!" she cried, "set craven doubt aside,
If beauty's sought, there's none hath with thee vied.
What place is there where orchids flower not fair?
Why is thy native land thy single care?

"Now darkly lies the world in twilight's glow,
Who doth your defects and your virtue know?
Evil and good herein are reconciled;
The crowd alone hath nought but is defiled.
With stinking mugwort girt upon their waist,
They curse the others for their orchids chaste;
Ignorant thus in choice of fragrance rare,
Rich ornaments how could they fitly wear?
With mud and filth they fill their pendent bag;
Cursing the pepper sweet, they brawl and brag."
Although the witches counsel I held good,
In foxlike indecision still I stood.
At night the wizard great made his descent,
And meeting him spiced rice I did present.
The angels came, shading with wings the sky;
From mountains wild the deities drew nigh.
With regal splendour shone the solemn sight,
And thus the wizard spake with omens bright:

"Take office high or low as days afford,
If one there be that could with thee accord;
Like ancient kings austere who sought their mate,
Finding the one who should fulfill their fate.
Now if thy heart doth cherish grace within,
What need is there to choose a go-between?
A convict toiled on rocks to expiate
His crime; his sovereign gave him great estate.
A butcher with his knife made roundelay;
His king chanced there and happy proved the day.
A prince who heard a cowherd chanting late
Raised him to be a councillor of state.
Before old age o'ertake thee on thy way,
Life still is young; to profit turn thy day.
Spring is but brief, when cuckoos start to sing,
And flowers will fade that once did spread and spring."

On high my jasper pendent proudly gleamed,
Hid by the crowd with leaves that thickly teemed;
Untiring they relentless means employed;
I feared it would through envy be destroyed.
This gaudy age so fickle proved its will,
That to what purpose did I linger still?
E'en orchids changed, their fragrance quickly lost,
And midst the weeds angelicas were tossed.
How could these herbs, so fair in former day,
Their hue have changed, and turned to mugworts grey?
The reason for their fall, not far to seek,
Was that to tend their grace their will proved weak.

I thought upon the orchids I might lean;
No flowers appeared, but long bare leaves were seen;
Their grace abandoned, vulgar taste to please,
Content with lesser flowers to dwell at ease.
To boasts and flattery the pepper turned;
To fill the pendent bag the dogwood yearned;
Thus only upon higher stations bent,
How could they long retain their former scent?
Since they pursued the fashion of the time,
Small wonder they decayed e'en in their prime.
Viewing the orchids' and the peppers' plight
Why blame the rumex and selinea white?

My jasper pendent rare I was beguiled
To leave, and to this depth then sank defiled.
It blossomed still and never ceased to grow;
Like water did its lovely fragrance flow:
Pleasure I took to wear this bough in sport,
As roaming wild the damsel fair I sought.
Thus in my prime, with ornaments bedecked,
I roved the earth and heaven to inspect.

With omens bright the seer revealed the way,
I then appointed an auspicious day.
As victuals rare some jasper twigs I bore,
And some prepared, provision rich to store;
Then winged horses to my chariot brought
My carriage bright with jade and ivory wrought.

How might tow hearts at variance accord?
I roamed till peace be to my mind restored.
The pillar of the earth I stayed beside;
The way was long, and winding far and wide.
In twilight glowed the clouds with wondrous sheen,
And chirping flew the birds of jasper green.
I went at dawn high heaven's ford to leave;
To earth's extremity I came at eve.
On phoenix wings the dragon pennons lay;
With plumage bright they flew to lead the way.
I crossed the quicksand with its treach'rous flood,
Beside the burning river, red as blood;
To bridge the stream my dragons huge I bade,
Invoked the emperor of the west to aid.

The way was long, precipitous in view;
I bade my train a different path pursue.
There where the heaven fell we turned a space,
And marked the western sea as meeting-place.
A thousand chariots gathred in my train,
With axles full abreast we drove amain;
Eight horses drew the carriages behind;
The pennons shook like serpents in the wind.
I lowered flags, and from my whip refrained;
My train of towering chariots I restrained.
I sang the odes. I trod a sacred dance,
In revels wild my last hour to enhance.
Ascending where celestial heaven blazed,
On native earth for the last time we gazed;
My slaves were sad, my steeds all neighed in grief,
And gazing back, the earth they would not leave.

Forward and back I hastened in my quest,
Followed the former kings, and took no rest.
The prince my true integrity defamed,
Gave ear to slander, high his anger flamed;
Integrity I knew could not avail,
Yet still endured; my lord I would not fail.
Celestial spheres my witness be on high,
I strove but for his sacred majesty.
Twas first to me he gave his plighted word,
But soon repenting other counsel heard.
For me departure could arouse no pain;
I grieved to see his royal purpose vain.

Nine fields of orchids at one time I grew,
For melilot a hundred acres too,
And fifty acres for the azalea bright,
The rumex fragrant and the lichen white.
I longed to see them yielding blossoms rare,
And thought in season due the spoil to share.
I did not grieve to see them die away,
But grieved because midst weeds they did decay.

Insatiable in lust and greediness
The faction strove, and tired not of excess;
Themselves condoning, others they'd decry,
And steep their hearts in envious jealousy.

Insatiably they seized what they desired,
It was not that to which my heart aspired.
As old age unrelenting hurried near,
Lest my fair name should fail was all my fear.
Dew from magnolia leaves I drank at dawn,
At eve for food were aster petals borne;
And loving thus the simple and the fair,
How should I for my sallow features care?
With gathered vines I strung valeria white,
And mixed with blue wistaria petals bright,
And melilotus matched with cassia sweet,
With ivy green and tendrils long to meet.
Life I adapted to the ancient way,
Leaving the manners of the present day;
Thus unconforming to the modern age,
The path I followed of a bygone sage.

Long did I sigh and wipe away my tears,
To see my people bowed by griefs and fears.
Though I my gifts enhanced and curbed my pride,
At morn they'd mock me, would at eve deride;
First cursed that I angelica should wear,
Then cursed me for my melilotus fair.
But since my heart did love such purity,
I'd not regret a thousand deaths to die.

I marvel at the folly of the king,
So heedless of his people's suffering.
They envied me my mothlike eyebrows fine,
And so my name his damsels did malign.
Truly to craft alone their praise they paid,
The square in measuring they disobeyed;
The use of common rules they held debased;
With confidence their crooked lines they traced.

In sadness plunged and sunk in deepest gloom,
Alone I drove on to my dreary doom.
In exile rather would I meet my end,
Than to the baseness of their ways descend.
Remote the eagle spurns the common range,
Nor deigns since time began its way to change;
A circle fits not with a square design;
Their different ways could not be merged with mine.
Yet still my heart I checked and curbed my pride,
Their blame endured and their reproach beside.
To die for righteousness alone I sought,
For this was what the ancient sages taught.

I failed my former errors to discern;
I tarried long, but now I would return.
My steeds I wheeled back to their former way,
Lest all too long down the wrong path I stray.
On orchid-covered bank I loosed my steed,
And let him gallop by the flow'ry mead
At will. Rejected now and in disgrace,
I would retire to cultivate my grace.
With cress leaves green my simple gown I made,
With lilies white my rustic garb did braid.
Why should I grieve to go unrecognised,
Since in my heart fragrance was truly prized?
My headdress then high-pinnacled I raised,
Lengthened my pendents, where bright jewels blazed.
Others may smirch their fragrance and bright hues,
My innocence is proof against abuse.
Oft I looked back, gazed to the distance still,
Longed in the wilderness to roam at will.
Splendid my ornaments together vied,
With all the fragrance of the flowers beside;
All men had pleasures in their various ways,
My pleasure was to cultivate my grace.
I would not change, though they my body rend;
How could my heart be wrested from its end?

My handmaid fair, with countenance demure,
Entreated me allegiance to abjure:
"A hero perished in the plain ill-starred,
Where pigmies stayed their plumage to discard.
Why lovest thou thy grace and purity,
Alone dost hold thy splendid virtue high?
Lentils and weeds the prince's chamber fill:
Why holdest thou aloof with stubborn will?
Thou canst not one by one the crowd persuade,
And who the purpose of our heart hath weighed?
Faction and strife the world hath ever loved;
Heeding me not, why standest thou removed?"

I sought th'ancestral voice to ease my woe.
Alas, how one so proud could sink so low!
To barbarous south I went across the stream;
Before the ancient I began my theme:
"With odes divine there came a monarch's son,
Whose revels unrestrained were never done;
In antics wild, to coming perils blind,
He fought his brother, and his sway declined.
The royal archer, in his wanton chase
For foxes huge, his kingdom did disgrace.
Such wantonness predicts no happy end;
His queen was stolen by his loyal friend.
The traitor's son, clad in prodigious might,
In incest sinned and cared not what was right.
He revelled all his days, forgetting all;
His head at last in treachery did fall.
And then the prince, who counsels disobeyed,
Did court disaster, and his kingdom fade.
A prince his sage in burning cauldrons tossed;
His glorious dynasty ere long was lost.

"But stern and pious was their ancient sire,
And his successor too did faith inspire;
Exalted were the wise, the able used,
The rule was kept and never was abused.
The august heaven, with unbiassed grace,
All men discerns, and helps the virtuous race;
Sagacious princes through their virtuous deed
The earth inherit, and their reigns succeed.
The past I probed, the future so to scan,
And found these rules that guide the life of man:
A man unjust in deed who would engage?
Whom should men take as guide except the sage?
In mortal dangers death I have defied,
Yet could look back, and cast regret aside.
Who strove, their tool's defects accounting nought,
Like ancient sages were to cauldrons brought."
Thus I despaired, my face with sad tears marred,
Mourning with bitterness my years ill-starred;
And melilotus leaves I took to stem
The tears that streamed down to my garment's hem.
Soiling my gown, to plead my case I kneeled;
Th'ancestral voice the path to me revealed.

Swift jade-green dragons, birds with plumage gold,
I harnessed to the whirlwind, and behold,
At daybreak from the land of plane-trees grey,
I came to paradise ere close of day.
I wished within the sacred brove to rest,
But now the sun was sinking in the west;
The driver of the sun I bade to stay,
Ere with the setting rays we haste away.
The way was long, and wrapped in gloom did seem,
As I urged on to seek my vanished dream.

The dragons quenched their thirst beside the lake
Where bathed the sun, whilst I upon the brake
Fastened my reins; a golden bough I sought
To brush the sun, and tarred there in sport.
The pale moon's charioteer I then bade lead,
The master of the winds swiftly succeed;
Before, the royal blue bird cleared the way;
The lord of thunder urged me to delay.
I bade the phoenix scan the heaven wide;
But vainly day and night its course it tried;
The gathering whirlwinds drove it from my sight,
Rushing with lowering clouds to check my flight;
Sifting and merging in the firmament,
Above, below, in various hues they went.

The gate-keeper of heaven I bade give place,
But leaning on his door he scanned my face;
The day grew dark, and now was nearly spent;
Idly my orchids into wreaths I bent.
The virtuous and the vile in darkness merged;
They veiled my virtue, by their envy urged.
At dawn the waters white I left behind;
My steed stayed by the portals of the wind;
Yet, gazing back, a bitter grief I felt
That in the lofty crag no damsel dwelt.

I wandered eastward to the palace green,
And pendents sought where jasper boughs were seen,
And vowed that they, before their splendour fade,
As gift should go to grace the loveliest maid.
The lord of clouds I then bade mount the sky
To seek the steam where once the nymph did lie;
As pledge I gave my belt of splendid sheen,
My councillor appointed go-between.
Fleeting and wilful like capricious cloud,
Her obstinacy swift no change allowed.
At dusk retired she to the crag withdrawn,
Her hair beside the stream she washed at dawn.
Exulting in her beauty and her pride,
Pleasure she worshipped, and no whim denied;
So fair of form, so careless of all grace,
I turned to take another in her place.