River Song

Of satin-wood our boat is made,

Our oars of ebony;

Jade pipes and gold flutes

Play at stern and prow.

A thousand gallons of red wine

We carry in the ship’s hold;

With girls on board at the waves’ will

We are glad to drift or stay.

Even the rishi had to wait

For a yellow crane to ride;

But the sailor whose heart had no guile

Was followed by the white gulls.

Ch’ü P’ing’s prose and verse

Hang like the sun and moon;

The king of Ch’u’s arbours and towers

Are only hummocks in the ground.

With my mood at its height I wield my brush

And the Five Hills quake;

When the poem is done, my laughter soars

To the Blue Isles of the sky.

Riches, Honour, Triumph, Fame,

Than that you should long endure,

It were likelier the stream of the River Han

Should flow to the North-West!

A phrase from the Li Sao.

Tou Tzŭ-an, who was carried to Heaven by a yellow crane near

Wu-ch’ang.

A story from Lieh Tzu.

I.e., Ch’ü Yüan.

Practically a quotation from Ch’ü Yüan’s “Life,” by Ssŭ-ma Ch’ien.

Fairyland, sometimes thought of as being in the middle of the sea,

sometimes (as here) in the sky.