Thy Wife.
30
My Dear One,
There has been great talk of evil eyes. Not that I believe the servants'
tales; but-- thine Honourable Mother, Li-ti, and thy wife have been to
the Holy Man who dwells underneath the Great Magnolia-tree near the
street of the Leaning Willow. He lives alone within a little house of
matting, and has acquired great merit by his virtuous acts. He wears
around his unbound hair a band of metal that is the outward sign of
his great holiness. He lives alone in peace and with untroubled mind.
In his great wisdom he has learned that peace is the end and aim of
life; not triumph, success, nor riches, but that the greatest gift from all
the Gods is peace. I purchased from him an amulet for my "Stupid
One," my treasure, as some one might come within our courtyard and
cast his eye upon our child with bad intent.
Come to me, my husband. Tell me thou art coming. Thou wilt find me
standing in the outer archway with thy son within mine arms. I long for
thee.
Thy Wife.
31
My days are filled with happiness. I go out on the terrace and look far
down the hillside that is covered with azaleas, pink and orange and
mauve. I hold my son and say, "Look, thy father will come to us from
the city yonder. Our eyes of love will see him from far away, there by
the willow-pattern tea-house. He will come nearer-- nearer-- and we
will not hear the beat of his bearers' feet upon the pathway because of
the beating of our hearts." He smiles at me, he understands. He is so
wonderful, thy son. I would "string the sunbeams for his necklace or
draw down the moon with cords to canopy his bed."
Come back and see thy son.
Kwei-li.
32
My Dear One,
Thy letter has come saying thou wilt be here soon. It came on the day
I went to the temple to make my offering of thanks for the gift of our
son.
I put on my richest gown, the blue one with the broidery of gold. I
dressed my hair with jessamine flowers, and wore all the jewels thou
hast given me. My boy was in his jacket of red, his trousers of mauve,
his shoes of purple, and his cap with the many Gods. When I was
seated in the chair he was placed in my lap, and a man was sent
ahead with cash to give the beggars, because I wished all the world to
be happy on this my day of rejoicing.
My bearers carried me to the very steps of the throne on which
Kwan-yin was seated. I made my obeisance, I lighted the large red
candles and placed them before the Goddess of Heaven. Then I took
our son before the Buddha, the Name, the Lord of Light, the
All-Powerful, and touched his head three times to the mat, to show
that he would be a faithful follower and learn to keep the law.
We went home by the valley road, and my heart kept beating in tune
to the pat-pat of the bearers' feet on the pathway. It was all so
beautiful. The trailing vines on the mountain-side, the ferns in the cool
dark places, the rich green leaves of the mulberry-trees, the farmers in
the paddy fields, all seemed filled with the joy of life. And I, Kwei-li,
going along in my chair with my son on my knee, was the happiest of
them all. The Gods have given me everything; they have nothing more
to bestow. I am glad I have gone to the mountain-side each day to
thank them for their gifts.
The Gods are good, my loved one, they are good to thy,
Kwei-li.
33
I am alone on the mountain-top. I have gone the pathway the last time
to lay my offering at the feet of Kwan-yin. She does not hear my
voice. There is no Goddess of Mercy. She is a thing of gold and wood,
and she has mocked my despair, has laughed at the heart that is
within me, that is alive and full of an anguish such as she has never
known.
My son, my man-child is dead. The life has gone from his body, the
breath from his lips. I have held him all the night close to my heart
and it does not give him warmth. They have taken him from me and
told me he has gone to the Gods. There are no Gods. There are no
Gods. I am alone.
34
He had thine eyes-- he was like to thee. Thou wilt never know thy son
and mine, my Springtime. Why could they not have left thy son for
thee to see? He was so strong and beautiful, my first-born.
35
Do not chide me. I cannot write. What do I do? I do not know. I lie
long hours and watch the tiny mites that live within the sun's bright
golden rays, and say, "Why could I not exchange my womanhood,
that hopes and loves and sorrows, for one of those small dancing
spots within the sunbeams? At least they do not feel."
At night sleep does not touch my eyelids. I lie upon the terrace. I will
not go within my chamber, where 'tis gloom and darkness. I watch the
stars, a silver, mocking throng, that twinkle at me coldly, and then I
see the moon mount slowly her pathway of the skies. The noises of
the night come to me softly, as if they knew my sorrow, and the
croaking frogs and the crickets that find lodging by the lotus pool
seem to feel with me my loneliness, so plaintive is their cry.
I feel the dawn will never come, as if 'twere dead or slumbered; but
when at last he comes, I watch him touch the hillside, trees, and
temples with soft grey fingers, and bring to me a beauty one does not
see by day. The night winds pass with sighs among the pine-trees,
and in passing give a loving touch to bells upon pagodas that bring
their music faint to me. The dawn is not the golden door of happiness.
It only means another day has come and I must smile and talk and
live as if my heart were here.
Oh, man of mine, if but thy dream touch would come and bid me
slumber, I would obey.
Thy Wife.
36
They have put a baby in my arms, a child found on the tow-path, a
beggar child. I felt I could not place another head where our dear boy
had lain, and I sat stiff and still, and tried to push away the little body
pressing close against me; but at touch of baby mouth and fingers,
springs that were dead seemed stirring in my heart again. At last I
could not bear it, and I leaned my face against her head and crooned
His lullaby:
"The Gods on the rooftree guard pigeons from harm
And my little pigeon is safe in my arms."