Some of you are nobles who have enjoyed the glorious grace of the Tang Empire for generations; some are relatives of royal families, or are top-ranking officials who promised to execute the late emperor’s will. With his words still sounding in our ears, how can you forget your mission of loyalty? Alas, while the soil on the late emperor’s tomb is not yet dry, the young crown prince has already been exiled out of sight.

  If you could turn the tables, however, and bid a proper farewell to the late emperor, remember his will, serve under his successor, the new emperor, with dedication, and gather together to preserve the great Tang Empire’s Li royal family line, you will be granted knighthoods and rewards by the glorious throne that will run as long as the Yellow River, stand as solid as the Tai Mountains.

  If you merely look at your feet, and hesitate at the crucial moment without seeing all the potent signs, severe punishment will surely fall to you.

  See the picture clearly: today’s world is being grasped in whose hand? This ‘Call to Arms’ will be distributed to all the provinces and counties, so all the people shall know.

  This is one of the most inspiring, influential works of classical Chinese literature. Luo Binwang is known for the intertextual richness of his works. In this powerful ‘Call to Arms’, literary allusions are used abundantly. While this is a common feature among classical Chinese poets, it’s so frequently employed in the ‘Call to Arms’ that readers may actually encounter a couple of allusions in every paragraph. In addition to that, parallel rhetoric is often used, too, which makes the brilliant piece even more impressive. The two overlap throughout the ‘Call to Arms’.

  In translating this mighty statement composed by Luo Binwang, I’ve met with several problems. For one, is it absolutely necessary to provide notes for each and every allusion for non-Chinese readers, at the expense of the reading flow? I opted not to take the academic approach, as long as the implied meaning of the allusions is understandable through context. And I have taken the same approach to the issue of parallel rhetoric.

  Ode to a Goose

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  ‘Goo, goo, goo!’

  Arching its neck,

  the goose is singing

  to the high skies,

  white feathers drifting

  over the green water,

  and red webs pedaling

  in the clear ripples.

  Ode to a Cicada in Prison

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  In the fall, you begin to sing

  to a captive overwhelmed by worries.

  It is unbearable to hear you scratching

  your black wings in a sad song

  to a white-haired prisoner like me.

  The autumn dew drops falling,

  falling too heavy, you cannot fly high.

  The cold wind drowns your melody.

  Who comes to believe you’re so noble

  and pure? Who comes to address

  all the grievous wrongs afflicted

  on an innocent man like me?

  Remembering a Beautiful Girl in Shu

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  East and West, Wu and Shu, so far away

  with passes and mountains standing

  in the way. Alas, it is too far

  for the letter-carrying fish to reach you,

  or for the message-bearing wild goose.

  Little wonder about the long streaks

  of tears on your face, as you recall

  the moment that the passionate clouds

  turned into hot rain, circling,

  caressing in the deep mountains.

  To a Fishing Girl

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  A drunk traveler, lone, wet, cold,

  boarded a sampan on a stormy night,

  hungry like a wolf, where a young, pretty

  fishing girl welcomed him, kneeling,

  wearing a wet dudou-like corset

  hugging the rise of her breasts,

  her feet bare, silver bangles jingling,

  lighting up the bamboo boat wall

  behind her. She was making a vivid introduction

  to the celebrated chef’s special

  of her sampan, waving the menu

  in her hand, explaining the secret recipe

  for frying a live mandarin fish.

  A large one, with its head and tail sticking

  out of the sizzling oil, was frying

  in the wok, still turning, trembling.

  A small smudge stuck on the arch

  of her bare, shapely foot struck his imagination

  and he experienced the hallucination

  of her turning into a struggling fish

  being scooped out of the net.

  ‘Fry just for one minute,

  better with an ice cube in its mouth.’

  Served under the bamboo awning

  of the boat, it tastes so tender, juicy,

  melting on the tongue, its eyes goggling

  once or twice – or was that something

  he imagined in his intoxication?

  The fish is turning back into the girl,

  bleeding, struggling and thrashing, he

  fell to suckling hard at her delicious, delicate toe

  like a dainty ball of the fish-cheek meat.

  The authorship of the poem is open to question.

  In the Army

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  Beholden to the great favor from the Lord,

  the whole army is full of courage.

  The sunlight shining so bright

  on the glaring double-edged lances

  in the battlefield, the stars appearing

  to engrave patterns on the swords.

  Our full-stretched bows frame

  the moon of the Han Empire,

  our steeds stamp like thunder

  on the barbarian land with swirling dust.

  Caring not about what may happen to us

  we are ready to lay down our lives

  in return for our Lord’s immense favor.

  Seeing Off Officer Zheng at the Border

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  Facing the barbarian invasion from the enemy,

  our heroic soldiers are marching east,

  crossing Shanggan River to defend the country.

  The shining arrows keep shooting, tearing

  through the dense green willow leaves,

  over the white-jade-decorated saddles,

  against a blaze of blossoming peach flowers.

  The bright moon projects the shadows

  of the full-stretched bows to the ground,

  with stars gathering around the tip

  of the gigantic sword suspended in the sky.

  Oh, don’t be like a failed assassin

  in the ancient times, singing,

  in vain, the sad, sentimental song

  of ‘Chilly Wind by Yi River’.

  Seeing Off a Friend by Yi River

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  Here, the brave assassin Jin Ke

  bid farewell to his lord Prince Yan,

  his hair bristling with indignation.

  All the heroic and the gallant deeds

  of the past long gone, the water

  of the Yi River remains bone-chilling.

  Jin Ke is a recurring figure in Luo’s poems, and in classic Chinese poetry too. Jin made a brave assassination attempt on King Zheng of the Qin state, who was on the brink of conquering all parts of China and becoming the First Qing emperor. Jin sang a heroic song by the Yi River, where he parted with his friends before setting out on what he knew was an impossible, fatal mission.

  Climbing the City Wall with the Army

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  The mighty troop on the city wall

  sending a chill into the heart

  of the enemy, the river water rising

  with the cold-blooded message,

  I’m going to the battle, wearing

  the army uniform. In triumph,

  I’ll enter the capital of Chang’an

  amidst the people singing and dancing.

  Farewell to a Friend

  Luo Binwang (626–687?)

  The hour-knocking stretches the cold, long night,

  The cool, clear sky spreads like in the cool autumn,

  What present should I give you at our parting?

  My heart, ice-pure in a clear jade vase.

  Borders

  Jiong Yang (650–695?)

  How ferocious, furious the war rages on

  north of Sai, how bitter, hard the battle

  unfolds south of the city. The flags flapping,

  stretching out like splendid wings,

  the armor reflecting like silver scales

  in the sun, the freezing water stinging

  the steeds, and the sad autumn wind

  worrying the people engaged in the war,

  our generals and soldiers are infused

  with the sunshine in their hearts, marching,

  marching to the sand-covered borders

  thousands and thousands of miles away.

  Army Song

  Jiong Yang (650–695?)

  The beacon fire already reaching the Western Capital,

  our hearts are full of indignation.

  Bidding farewell to the palace,

  the general leaves with the emperor’s order,

  and the soldiers fight bravely against the enemy

  surrounding and attacking our city.

  The heavy snow eclipsing the banners,

  the battle drums adding to the howling wind.

  O, I would rather be a petty officer fighting

  than a useless scholar writing.

  Lotus Flowers in the Winding Lake

  Lu Zhaolin (634–686)

  The light fragrance of the lotus flowers comes

  circling the winding lake under the cover

  of lush, round lotus leaves

  upon lush, round lotus leaves. I am

  worrying about the too-early arrival

  of the autumn winds. Before you can

  even fully appreciate the floral abundance

  in the lake, the flowers and leaves

  may start falling, fading …

  Double Nine Festival on the Mountains

  Lu Zhaoling (634–686)

  We climbed up the mountain to look out

  on the day of the double nine festival …

  A wave of homesickness is overwhelming

  like the wind, and waves of dust rising

  before our eyes. Alone, drinking

  the golden chrysanthemum wine

  in another land, I’m watching

  a solitary wild goose flying

  through the long, forlorn sky.

  We cannot help feeling the same,

  as if suspended under its wings.

  The Double Nine Festival occurs on the ninth day of the ninth month in China’s lunar calendar. In the Tang dynasty, people would observe the time-honored traditions of gathering together, climbing mountains and drinking chrysanthemum wine.

  Missing Friends in the Cool Night

  Wang Bo (650–676)

  Morning after morning, I stand alone

  under the verdant mountains, dusk

  after dusk, I visit the blue river,

  humming an unforgettable tune

  from my old home. Oh, how I have

  come to the familiar scenes, missing

  the dear ones far, far away,

  looking forward to the moment

  of raising our cups together, sharing

  the excitement over the fragrant greenness.

  In the Mountains

  Wang Bo (650–676)

  The Yangtze River sings for me

  in sorrow, as if with hiccups

  amidst its endless flowing.

  A lonely traveler thousands of

  miles away cannot wait

  for his return home. How much

  more so in the evening,

  with the wind bidding

  farewell to the autumn,

  with the yellow leaves swirling

  all over hills and dales.

  Seeing Off Du to His New Post in Shu

  Wang Bo (650–676)

  The three grand Qing cities

  guarding the great capital of Chang’an,

  in the background, here I am,

  seeing you off, visualizing

  you traveling all the way

  through the wind and the mist

  to your new post. The moment

  of parting comes, so emotional,

  at the beginning of our career

  stretching out.

  With a good friend,

  located as far as the end

  of the world, we still feel

  close, like next-door neighbors.

  Oh, don’t break down, sentimentally

  sobbing like young people,

  at the sight of the road

  forking in front of us.

  Red Pomegranate Skirt

  Wu Zetian (624–705)

  Missing you in tears, day

  and night, I was so devastated,

  seeing scarlet as green in a trance—

  ‘Incredible!’ You take out my red

  pomegranate skirt from the trunk

  to double-check the tear stains.

  Wu Zetian was summoned into the royal palace as a palace lady under the reign of the first Tang Emperor Taizhong. After his death, she was put into a Daoist nunnery, where she secretly carried on with the former crown prince – the new Emperor Gaozhong – and composed the above poem. In it, she suggests that she missed him so much while he was away that she mixed up the colors red and green, and challenges him to check her skirt for evidence of her tears. Their secret affair represented a huge ‘incestuous’ scandal to intellectuals like Luo Binwang at the time, who specifically denounced it in the ‘Call to Arms’, a declaration composed during the rebellion led by Xu Jingye against Empress Wu.

  The Inscription on the Robe Given to Dee Renjie

  Wu Zetian (624–705)

  An incorruptible mainstay

  of the great Tang Empire,

  you have stood so solid,

  working hard and diligently

  in your prominent position.

  The best example you are

  to all your colleagues.

  For an official, it was considered an extraordinary honor to be given a robe by Empress Wu, particularly one with her inscription on it. Judge Dee was one such official, who was trusted by her. She was said to have broken down, weeping bitterly, on Judge Dee’s death, declaring in heartbroken sadness, ‘Look at the imperial court now. It is so empty, desolate!’ Afterward, when confronted with difficult issues of the empire, she would exclaim, ‘Why should the Old Heaven have deprived me of my most capable Premier Dee?’

  Farewell to a Goose

  Di Renjie (630–700)

  Across the Han Dynasty bridge,

  under the Tang Dynasty sun

  we are going to part, like

  the plum blossom unfolding out

  in a white paper fan, like

  the distant horizon sinking

  on a black crow’s wing,

  as the weeds start swinging,

  unexpectedly, to an unfamiliar tune.

  Bubble of wrigglers

  bursting on the green water.

  The authorship of the poem is in question.

  By the Wuding River

  Chen Tao (812–885)

  Pledged to wipe out the Huns,

  they fought without any thoughts

  for themselves, and died,

  all of them, five thousand

  sable-clad warriors, lost

  in the dust of the North.

  Alas, the white bones scattered there

  by the faraway Wuding River,

  still come in spring to haunt women’s dreams,

  in the shapes of their dead lovers.

  Bamboo Twig Song

  Liu Yuxie (772–842)

  The willow shoots green,

  the river water smooth,

  she hears him singing

  across the waves.

  It shines in the east,

  it rains in the west.

  It is said not to be fine,

  but it really is fine to me.

  These poems were originally written and performed as folk songs in the early Tang period, when such poets as Luo Binwang, Wang Bo, Jiong Yang and Lu Zhaoling were active. Later on, a well-known mid-Tang-period poet, Liu Yuxie, edited and revised them. In The Conspiracies of the Empire, Little Swallow is known for singing these songs in her sampan, and she was killed after singing them for Judge Dee.

  Bamboo Twig Song

  Liu Yuxie (772–842)

  Red peach blossoms blaze

  all over the mountains

  with the green spring waters

  of the Shu River circling.

  The flowers will easily fade,

  my lord, like your passion,

  while the water flows on,