Jumaat, 11 Julai 2014

The Living Dead

Honouring our poetic ancestors

The Soldier
— Anonymous

I climbed the barren mountain,
And my gaze swept far and wide
For the red-lit eaves of my father's home,
And I fancied that he sighed:
My son has gone for a soldier,
For a soldier night and day;
But my son is wise, and may yet return,
When the drums have died away.

I climbed the grass-clad mountain,
And my gaze swept far and wide
For the rosy lights of a little room,
Where I thought my mother sighed:
My boy has gone for a soldier,
He sleeps not day and night;
But my boy is wise, and may yet return,
Though the dead lie far from sight.

I climbed the topmost summit,
And my gaze swept far and wide
For the garden roof where my brother stood,
And I fancied that he sighed:
My brother serves as a soldier
With his comrades night and day;
But my brother is wise and may yet return,
Though the dead lie far away.


From odes collected by Confucius about 500BC,  translated by L. Cranmer-Byng in A Lute of Jade. London, John Murray, 1909. (Wisdom of the East series.)


My father passed this little treasure of a book on to me in 1964, from his own library, along with its companion volume, A Feast of Lanterns, knowing I had loved them when I was growing up. 

In his introduction to A Lute of Jade, L. Cranmer-Byng explains that the odes collected by Confucius (one section of the book) were the folk poems of the common people of the era 1765-585 BC. 

I think it's easy to understand this as the thoughts of any soldier remembering home, and any family thinking of the one who is away soldiering. In those times, in feudal China, I imagine there wasn't much choice about joining the army if there was a war to be fought.

There are places in the world where there is not much choice about it even now.  And even when it is a chosen occupation, that doesn't take away the soldier's home-sickness or the family's concern. It's easy to relate to this deceptively simple little ditty.

The song-like repetitions effectively illustrate the return of the soldier's thoughts to his home and family, and also make the different individual details in each verse more striking by comparison. From just those few details, I get a strong image of the home he remembers.

I wonder if climbing the mountain is a metaphor for dying and looking down from Heaven — but I prefer to take it literally, and that's poignant enough. 

So long ago and far away, I hope he came home safe in the end, as we hope they all do.

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