92 LAN-TSIH 



' Why thus speak'st thou? " Lan-tsih answered. 

 Have we both not deeply suffered? 

 At the Yellow Fountain meet me." 



In the silence of the mid-night 

 Lan-tsih found her way out softly, 

 Out into the peaceful moon-light, 

 Walked along the rushing river. 



" So my weary life will end here, 

 And my soul will leave its body, 

 Go to meet its well-beloved.'' 

 Saying this she dropped her garment. 

 Stepped out of her silken slippers. 

 Just a plunge, and gone was Lan-tsih, 

 Buried in the crystal waters. 



When her husband heard these tidings 

 That his young wife had departed. 

 Out he walked into the garden, 

 Walked its paths in restless anguish. 

 Then his spirit rose triumphant, 

 He would meet her at the Fountain. 

 Following morn they found his body 

 Hanging in the pine tree branches. 



So in death they were united, 



And together they were buried 



At the foot of the Hwo-san Mountains. 



Pines and cypresses were planted 



At the corners of the grave mound. 



And the Wu-tung tree grew luscious, 



Grew upon the mound luxuriant, 



And its branches twined together, 



Till they formed a leafy cover. 



Yung-yang birds beneath it nestle, 



Every night they sit together, 



Calling each the other, cooing, 



Even when the fifth watch soundeth. 



Wanderers stand still and listen, 



Widows hurry past the grave mound. 



To the coming generations 



This sad tale of two young people 



Does impart a useful lesson. 



May they heed it and take warning ! 



