Chu Ci
The Thicket of Thorns
Preface: "The Thicket of Thorns" is a poem satirizing King You of Zhou. Government affairs were vexatious and harsh, taxes and levies were heavy, the fields lay waste and overgrown with weeds; famine descended causing death, and the people finally fled and scattered, so that no one was left to offer sacrifices. Thus the noble man looks back with longing to the ancient times (of prosperity).
Thickly growing the thistles and thorns; we must pull out their sharp points. Why has it been so from of old? We planted the millet and the glutinous millet. Our millet grew luxuriantly; our glutinous millet stood in orderly rows.
Our granaries are full; our open-air stacks number a hundred million. We use them to make wine and food, to present as offerings in sacrifice. We use them to secure the spirits' presence and urge them to eat, to pray for great blessings.
(The sacrificers) are reverent and orderly, wash clean your oxen and sheep, prepare for the winter and autumn sacrifices. Some skin them, some boil them, some arrange them, some pass them on. The invocator offers sacrifice within the temple gate.
The sacrifices are fully carried out, and the ancestors come, the spirit-protectors enjoy the offerings. The filial grandson receives blessings, requited with great happiness, longevity without bounds.
Those in charge of the fire are reverently busy, making the stands of meat abundant, some roasted, some broiled. The presiding lady is reverent and careful, making the dishes of offerings many, to entertain the guests.
The cups of offering and response pass in turn, all the ceremonies accord with the rules, the laughter and talk are all appropriate. The spirit-protectors then descend, requiting with great happiness, rewarding with a myriad years of life.
I (the presiding sacrificer) am very weary, but in the performance of the rites there is no error. The invocator announces the spirits' command, going forward to confer blessings on the filial grandson. The fragrant offerings are presented with filial piety, and the spirits love the food and drink,
They grant you a hundred blessings, coming as regularly as the seasons, both orderly and swift, both correct and diligent. They give you forever the utmost happiness, many myriads of millions.
The ceremonies are all completed, the bells and drums have sounded. The filial grandson returns to his place, and the invocator announces the spirits' command. The spirits are all drunk, and the august impersonator of the dead rises.
Bells and drums are struck to escort the impersonator away, and the spirit-protectors then return. The various officers of the kitchen and the presiding lady, quickly remove the offerings without delay. The various uncles and elder brothers, together prepare the private feast.
All the music enters and plays, to enjoy the subsequent blessings. Your dishes are all set forth, no one is resentful but all are delighted. Already drunk, already full, both old and young bow their heads.
The spirits love the food and drink, and make you live long. Very smooth and very timely, truly perfect and complete. Sons and grandsons, let it not be abandoned but continued without cease.
"The Thicket of Thorns" has six stanzas, each of twelve lines.