Part 7	Beneath the Yellow Springs
	SPRING 2198
	‘When I was alive, I wandered in the streets of the Capital;
	Now that I am dead, I am left to lie in the fields.
	In the morning I drove out from the High Hall;
	In the evening I lodged beneath the yellow springs.
	When the white sun had sunk in the Western Chasm
	I hung up my chariot and rested my four horses.
	Now, even the Maker of All
	Could not bring the life back to my limbs.
	Shape and substance day by day will vanish:
	Hair and teeth will gradually fall away.
	For ever from of old men have been so:
	And none born can escape this thing.’
	—Miu Hsi, Bearer’s Song (from Han Burial Songs)