A Eunuch Complains Of His Fate

A few fine lines, at random drawn,

  Like the shell-pattern wrought in lawn

    To hasty glance will seem.

  My trivial faults base slander's slime

  Distorted into foulest crime,

    And men me worthless deem.

  A few small points, pricked down on wood,

  May be made out a picture good

    Of the bright Southern Sieve.

  Who planned, and helped those slanderers vile,

  My name with base lies to defile?

    Unpitied, here I grieve.

  With babbling tongues you go about,

  And only scheme how to make out

    The lies you scatter round.

  Hear me--Be careful what you say;

  People ere long your words will weigh,

    And liars you'll be found.

  Clever you are with changeful schemes!

  How else could all your evil dreams

    And slanders work their way?

  Men now believe you; by and by,

  The truth found out, each vicious lie

    Will ill for ill repay.

  The proud rejoice; the sufferer weeps.

  O azure Heaven, from out thy deeps

    Why look in silence down?

  Behold those proud men and rebuke;

  With pity on the sufferers look,

    And on the evil frown.

  Those slanderers I would gladly take,

  With all who help their schemes to make,

    And to the tigers throw.

  If wolves and tigers such should spare,

  Td hurl them 'midst the freezing air,

    Where the keen north winds blow.

  And should the North compassion feel

  I'd fling them to great Heaven, to deal

    On them its direst woe.

  As on the sacred heights you dwell,

  My place is in the willow dell,

    One is the other near.

  Before you, officers, I spread

  These lines by me, poor eunuch, made.

    Think not Mang-tsze severe.