By Du Fu
(translated by Denis Mair)
I
At the east ferry point along the Brocade River
Where bream fish jump up like liquid silver
Fishermen row out and drop big nets
With one heave waylay a hundred channel dwellers
Common fish are thrown off to the side
Red-tailed beauties stand out like a charm
The local dragon is speechless, his mermen enraged
They stir up plumes of dust in a whirlwind
Rows of chefs ply their frosty knife-blades
Heap sashimi like snow upon golden platters
Forget about the tench of Xuzhou
Carp in the Hanyin weirs are far away
Nothing matches the perfect flesh of bream
But this pleasure of gorging has a desolate end
Behold the shiny body gutted at morning
Its lively streak forever gone from the waters
II
Fishermen of the hazy river gather at dawn
Spread nets to haul in the lunging school
Skillful boatmen race against the wind
Tridents pierce the crested wave
Countless fry squirm from the nets
Beached in deathly heaps they twitch
Lunkers droop and fade away
With noses down their tails lash in the air
Viewers consume a second day of treats
Push back platters and finish off the wine
Tonight the river dragon goes to a new lair
Fish below these peaks will follow his storm cloud
Endless battles are raging over this land
Where have our unicorns been driven to?
Why does my kind take pleasure in this?
The sages mourn to see such desecration
Leave a Reply