I: The Road to Shu is Hard (Li Bai) Aaaarraagh!
Dangerous and High.
The road to Shu is harder than
climbing the sky.
Cancong and Yufu forged this boundless country.
Forty-eight thousand
years later, finally,
relations with the Qin have begun,
the passing of settlers’ smoke.
Taibai to the west:
only birds
can pass it, reaching out
as far as Emei peak.
The ground
collapses. The mountain
crumbles.
Warriors (strong) die.
Sky-steps hook together
on the cliff-face walkway.
Above, six dragons drag the Sun chariot back
to avoid the high peak.
Below, rushing waves whirlpool, churning back
to Sichuan.
Yellow cranes can’t fly over it. Monkeys and gibbons yearn
to cross it, but they hang,
mournful.
Tortuous.
The heights of Qingni.
Tortuous.
Nine bends. One hundred steps.
Coiling through the rocks
and juts.
Touch Orion. Pass Gemini.
Look up, panting, heaving.
Hand on the chest.
Sit with a long sigh.
Tell me, Westward Voyager:
When will you come back?
These crags on this trip are insurmountable.
Tragic birds moan on ancient trees.
Circling in the forest cocks fly,
chased by hens. The cuckoos
yelp at the moonlight.
Sad, desolate mountain. The road to Shu is harder than climbing
the sky. Hear this
and your face bleaches out.
These linked peaks are a foot from the sky.
Decrepit pines hang upside-down
from the cliff face.
Flying and bursting, waterfalls cascade
with whooshes and whirs.
Thundering gullies spin stones and
bang walls.
How dangerous this is.
You:
Long-road Traveler:
Why in hell are you coming this way? Lofty and steep, Sword Hall on the rocky peaks.
With one man blocking
the pass, ten thousand troops can’t
crack it.
And if the guards are not kinsmen,
they turn into
jackals
and wolves. Avoid the wild tigers in the morning.
Avoid the long snakes in the night.
They’ll sharpen their teeth.
They’ll suck your blood.
They’ll kill you like flax.
Happy talk of the Brocaded City
is no match
for an early trip
home. The road to Shu
is hard.
Harder than climbing
the sky.
Sidle back. Look west.
All my sighs
are long.
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