In after years the famous court official, Su T‘ung-p‘o, wrote a poem on this leap over the T‘an Torrent:— I’m growing old, the leaves are sere, My sun slopes westward, soon will sink, And I recall that yester year I wandered by T‘an River brink. Irresolute, anon I paused, Anon advanced, and gazed around, I marked the autumn’s reddened leaves, And watched them eddying to the ground I thought of all the mighty deeds Of him who set the House of Han On high, and all the struggles since, The battlefields, the blood that ran. I saw the nobles gathered round The board, set in the Banquet Hall; Amid them, one, above whose head There hung a sword about to fall. I saw him quit that festive throng And westward ride, a lonely way; I saw a squadron follow swift, Intent the fugitive to slay. Isaw him reach the River T‘an, Whose swirling current rushes by; Adown the bank he galloped fast, “Now leap, my steed!” I heard him cry. His steed’s hoofs churn the swollen stream; What recks he that the waves run high? He hears the sound of clashing steel, Of thundering squadrons coming nigh. And upward from the foaming waves I saw two peerless beings soar: One was a destined western king, And him another dragon bore. The T‘an still rolls from east to west, Its roaring torrent ne’er dry. Those dragons twain, Ah! where are they? Yes, where? But there is no reply. The setting sun, in dark relief Against the glowing western sky, Throws out the everlasting hills While, saddened, here I stand and sigh. Men died to found the kingdoms three, Which now as misty dreams remain. Of greatest deeds the traces oft Are faint that fleeting years retain.
Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain