Capital Accounts
(Worked from the Chinese of Lu Zhaolin [635-84])
Through this long peace
arterial routes
intersect
with narrow lanes.
Beasts of burden,
black and white
drag coaches
of sweet-smelling wood,
and jade-inlaid
sedan chairs
cross recross
the town.
Past celebrity glitz,
old money dens,
golden accessories
circulate.
Dragons gnaw
rich canopies
glinting
in the early sun;
phoenix vomits
glittering lace
under crimson
evening clouds.
One stretch
of gossamer
encompasses
the trees;
assemblies
of magnificent birds
unify the groves
with song.
o
Birdsong
unifies the groves,
moths flicker
through the thousand gates.
There are emerald trees,
silver terraces,
colours
you don't have names for.
Forked galleries
with window bays
assume the form
of leaves,
and ridge tiles
linking towers
are phoenix wings
at rest.
The Corporation's
ornamented halls
rival
the sky,
and the Executive's
immortal works
overreach
the clouds.
In front
of the high-rises
not a single face
you know.
Imagine!
On the streets
you encounter
only strangers.
o
What about her,
who puts on airs
facing
the purple mist?
In the past
she danced,
oh
how she danced!
It's like she's blind now
in one eye;
would another
cure her mind of death?
It's like she's lost
one of her arms;
and she's sick of dying
bit by bit.
o
She's sick
of the sight
of the hale
and hearty,
those eternal soul-mates,
joined at the lip
never tired
displaying themselves.
It's depressing
to see
a single phoenix
in brocade,
but a pair of lovebirds
glued to the screen
will cheer you up
in no time!
o
The paired lovebirds
glide and flit
around the decorated
beams,
through the turquoise
hangings,
fumes
of turmeric.
Fashionably permed
and teased,
her hair
is cutting-edge.
Eyebrows
pencilled crescents,
next she applies
her war-paint.
o
War-painted
and powdered up,
she exits
to the chase.
Quite
independent
yet appealingly
vulnerable,
she changes
expression more
than is strictly
necessary.
Boys ride by
on thoroughbreds
as dark as
iron cash.
Hookers do trade;
hair in the dragon style,
with bent-knee
golden pins.
o
At City Hall already
birds
are coming home
to roost;
in the gate
of the Supreme Court
sparrows
brawl.
High and mighty
vermilion walls
overlook
the boulevards of jade;
the azure cars
slip down
beyond the golden
barricades.
Joy-riders
on the look-out
roam
the blank estates,
while hit-men
make
their contracts
in full light
and fat cats
in hand-
tooled footware
deal strict cash,
till all are drawn
down the same side-street
to the hookers'
sweet emporium.
o
The hookers
in the darkening
put on
flash stuff,
and then with purest voices
sing
familiar
sentimental airs;
in the outskirts
night on night
figures visit
like the moon,
at the heart
each morning
traffic gathers
like clouds.
o
Both the outskirts
and the city's heart
are conveniently situated
just off the freeway,
while major transportation routes
provide immediate access
to the financial
district.
Supple willows
and green ash
bend
touching the earth,
through sultry air
the red dust
joins
the sinking sky.
o
Now you arrive,
you civil guards
of this our state,
a thousand strong,
to drink
green wine
from nacre
cups.
Gauze boleros,
jewelled zones
are stripped
for you,
for you,
dance turns exotic,
and the throat
grows deep.
o
Then there are the big men
go by the name of
"Minister"
or "General":
the sun and sky
revolve
around them
and they yield to none.
Presuming respect,
these proud spirits
suffer
no reproach,
such high grasping
can't endure
nor recognize
restraint.
o
These great men
unrestrained:
their vehicle
the storm.
They claim
their music
and their sports will last
a thousand years,
offering
their power
and wealth
for our example.
o
In the cycle
of the seasons
change comes
instantaneous,
or
chard
ocean
switch,
gold steps
and white jade halls
become
green pine.
o
Silent
in the emptiness
he dwells,
attentive.
Nothing
is happening
but flowers
on the mountain:
falling here,
falling there,
through his sleeves
they fall.
***
A recent production, this probably bears some mark of its times. While some
parts are almost literal, I've allowed myself freedoms elsewhere to deal
with sections that would otherwise need heavy annotation. Since it's a
seventh-century original whose 'action' is set five or more centuries
earlier, I thought some modern analogues mightn't be out of place.
Anyway, enough blather . . .
Trevor
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