Mirrors
Tsai-Yu, before the disc of polished silver,
Places her black satin bands and the pearls on her bands,
And if the rouge be too pale to her eyes,
Or the milky sheen of the oil too bright on her cheeks,
The silver, smiling, warns her.
Counsellor Wen measures himself in annals of bygone days,
Limpid crystals where all that has been unfolds,
March of armies, words of the wise,
Trouble of constellations;
The answer seen therein governs his conduct.
As for me, nor pearls have I, nor worthy deeds to accomplish;
To order my life, I look on the face of my friend.
There, better than in silver,
Better than in sagas of far-away times,
I learn what is good in myself.
(Inspired by a French translation of an ancient Korean stele by Victor Segalen)
Page(s) 25
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