"In these letters I have drawn quite freely and sometimes literally from the excellent and authoritative translations of Chinese classics by Professor Giles in his "Chinese Literature" and from "The Lute of Jude" and "The Mastersingers of Japan," two books in the "Wisdom of the East" series edited by L. Cranmer-Byng and S. A. Kapadia. These translators have loved the songs of the ancient poets of China and Japan and caught with sympathetic appreciation, in their translations, the spirit of the East." -- Elizabeth Cooper
Chapter 1 No.1
My Dear One,
The house on the mountain-top has lost its soul. It is nothing but a
palace with empty windows. I go upon the terrace and look over the
valley where the sun sinks a golden red ball, casting long purple
shadows on the plain. Then I remember that thou art not coming from
the city to me, and I stay to myself that there can be no dawn that I
care to see, and no sunset to gladden my eyes, unless I share it with
thee.
But do not think I am unhappy. I do everything the same as if thou
wert here, and in everything I say, "Would this please my master?"
Meh-ki wished to put thy long chair away, as she said it was too big;
but I did not permit. It must rest where I can look at it and imagine I
see thee lying it, smoking thy water pipe; and the small table is
always near by, where thou canst reach out thy hand for thy papers
and the drink thou lovest. Meh-ki also brought out the dwarf pine-tree
and put it on the terrace, but I remembered thou saidst it looked like
an old man who had been beaten in his childhood, and I gave it to her
for one of the inner courtyards. She thinks it very beautiful, and so I
did once; but I have learned to see with thine eyes, and I know now
that a tree made straight and beautiful and tall by the Gods is more to
be regarded than one that has been bent and twisted by man.
Such a long letter I am writing thee. I am so glad that though madest
me promise to write thee every seventh day, and to tell thee all that
passes within my household and my heart. Thine Honourable Mother
says it is not seemly to send communication from mine hand to thine.
She says it was a thing unheard of in her girlhood, and that we
younger generations have passed the limits of all modesty and
womanliness. She wishes me to have the writer or thy brother send
thee the news of thine household; but that I will not permit. It must
come from me, thy wife. Each one of these strokes will come to thee
bearing my message. Thou wilt not tear the covering roughly as thou
didst those great official letters; nor wilt thou crush the papers quickly
in thy hand, because it is the written word of Kwei-li, who sends with
each stroke of brush a part of her heart.
Chapter 1 No.1
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Chapter 2 No.2
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Chapter 3 No.3
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Chapter 4 No.4
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Chapter 5 No.5
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Chapter 6 No.6
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Chapter 7 No.7
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Chapter 8 No.8
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Chapter 9 No.9
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Chapter 10 No.10
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Chapter 11 No.11
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Chapter 12 No.12
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Chapter 13 No.13
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Chapter 14 No.14
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Chapter 15 No.15
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Chapter 16 No.16
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Chapter 17 No.17
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Chapter 18 No.18
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Chapter 19 No.19
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Chapter 20 No.20
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Chapter 21 No.21
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Chapter 22 No.22
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Chapter 23 No.23
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Chapter 24 No.24
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Chapter 25 No.25
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Chapter 26 No.26
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Chapter 27 No.27
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Chapter 28 No.28
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Chapter 29 No.29
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Chapter 30 No.30
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Chapter 31 No.31
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Chapter 32 No.32
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Chapter 33 No.33
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Chapter 34 No.34
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Chapter 35 No.35
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Chapter 36 No.36
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Chapter 37 No.37
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Chapter 38 No.38
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Chapter 39 No.39
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Chapter 40 No.40
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