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Lu Yu (1125–1210) was one of the most beloved poets of the Sung dynasty but was too much of an idealist to ever achieve high office. Here, he turns to the countryside for solace. In 279 B.C. the state of Ch’i outfitted a herd of oxen with knives on their horns and oil-soaked rushes on their tails, then set fire to the rushes and drove the oxen into the army of the state of Yen and routed it. The Chinese used wooden or stone mallets to launder clothes, but they also used them for toughening material for winter. Paulownia leaves are bigger than dinner plates. Once, when Hsu Fan was a guest of Ch’en Yuan-lung, Yuan-lung made him sleep on the lower bunk. When Hsu later complained to Liu Pei, Liu reprimanded him, saying, “It’s a small-minded person who wants to sleep in a hundred-foot tower.” Here, Lu turns this around to his own amusement.

Autumn Thoughts

LU YU

Like oxen on fire we’re driven by desire

or we drift like seagulls among rivers and lakes

days can last years when a person finds peace

great concerns vanish for those who stay drunk

mallet sounds fade below a country-lane moon

paulownia leaves blanket my garden in fall

I need somewhere high to let my eyes roam

where can I find Yuan-lung’s old tower