Releasing a Migrant “Yen” (Wild Goose)

At Nine Rivers, in the tenth year, in winter,--heavy snow;
The river-water covered with ice and the forests broken with their
load.
The birds of the air, hungry and cold, went flying east and west;
And with them flew a migrant “yen,” loudly clamouring for food.
Among the snow it pecked for grass; and rested on the surface of the
ice:
It tried with its wings to scale the sky; but its tired flight was
slow.
The boys of the river spread a net and caught the bird as it flew;
They took it in their hands to the city-market and sold it there
alive.
I that was once a man of the North am now an exile here:
Bird and man, in their different kind, are each strangers in the
south.
And because the sight of an exiled bird wounded an exile’s heart,
I paid your ransom and set you free, and you flew away to the clouds.
Yen, Yen, flying to the clouds, tell me, whither shall you go?
Of all things I bid you, do not fly to the land of the north-west
In Huai-hsi there are rebel bands that have not been subdued;
And a thousand thousand armoured men have long been camped in war.
The official army and the rebel army have grown old in their opposite
trenches;
The soldier’s rations have grown so small, they’ll be glad of even
you.
The brave boys, in their hungry plight, will shoot you and eat your
flesh;
They will pluck from your body those long feathers and make them into
arrow-wings!