The Roadside Hut of the Old Drunkard

Ouyang Xiu

The District of Chu is enclosed all around by hills, of which those in the southwest boast the most lovely forests and dales. In the distance, densely wooded and possessed of a rugged beauty, is Mt. Langya. When you penetrate a mile or two into this mountain you begin to hear the gurgling of a stream, and presently the stream — the Brewer's Spring — comes into sight cascading between two peaks. Rounding a bend you see a hut with a spreading roof by the stream, and this is the Roadside Hut of the Old Drunkard. This hut was built by the monk Zhixian. It was given its name by the governor, referring to himself. The governor, coming here with his friends, often gets tipsy after a little drinking; and since he is the most advanced in years, he calls himself the Old Drunkard. He delights less in drinking than in the hills and streams, taking pleasure in them and expressing the feeling in his heart through drinking.

Now at dawn and dusk in this mountain come the changes between light and darkness: when the sun emerges, the misty woods become clear; when the clouds hang low, the grottoes are wrapped in gloom. Then in the course of the four seasons, You find wild flowers burgeoning and blooming with a secret fragrance, the stately trees put on their mantle of leaves and give a goodly shade, until wind and frost touch all with austerity, the water sinks low and the rocks at the bottom of the stream emerge. A man going there in the morning and returning in the evening during the changing pageant of the seasons can derive endless pleasure from the place.

And the local people may be seen making their way there and back in an endless stream, the old and infirm as well as infants in arms, men carrying burdens who sing as they go, passersby stopping to rest beneath the trees, those in front calling out and those behind answering. There the governor gives a feast with a variety of dishes before him, mostly wild vegetables and mountain produce. The fish are freshly caught from the stream, and since the stream is deep and the fish are fat; the wine is brewed with spring water, and since the spring is sweet the wine is superb. There they feast and drink merrily with no accompaniment of strings or flutes; when someone wins a game of touhu or chess, when they mark up their scores in drinking games together, or raise a cheerful din sitting or standing, it can be seen that the guests are enjoying themselves. The elderly man with white hair in the middle, who sits utterly relaxed and at his ease, is the governor, already half drunk.

Then the sun sinks towards the hills, men's shadows begins to flit about and scatter; and now the governor leaves, followed by his guests. In the shade of the woods birds chirp above and below, showing that the men have gone and the birds are at peace. But although the birds enjoy the hills and forests, they cannot understand the men's pleasure in them; and although men enjoy accompanying the governor there, they cannot understand his pleasure either. The governor is able to share his enjoyment with others when he is in his cups, and sober again can write an essay about it. Who is this governor? Ouyang Xiu of Luling.

（杨宪益、戴乃迭 译）

The Story of the Old Drunkard Tower

Ou-yang Hsiu

The prefecture of Chu is surrounded with hills on all sides. The wooded ravines of the south-west peaks are particularly beautiful. Lo, there is Lang Ya Hill shrouded in deep, luxuriant blue. After a few miles' walk in the mountains, the murmur of a stream will gradually come within hearing — that is the Brewing Fountain pouring down between two peaks. By turning round the peak along a bending path there appears a tower standing like a perching bird above the fountain — that is the Old Drunkard Tower. Who built the tower? A Buddhist monk, the Wise Immortal. Who gave it the name? The Prefect refers to himself. The Prefect comes to drink here with his guests. Only a little drinking will make him drunk; and being the eldest he therefore calls himself the old drunkard. The old drunkard is not interested in the wine, but in the hills and rivers. The joy of hills and rivers, found in the heart, mingles itself with the wine.

To illustrate, the sunrise dispersing the mists over the woods, and the return of clouds dimming the caves below the rocks — this is the alteration of light and shade, which represents the morning and evening in the mountains. Sweet smell emitting from the fresh wild grass; luxuriant shades made by the fine trees; the high, clear skies, windy and frosty; rocks standing out of receding water — these are the changes of the four seasons in the mountains. Going out in the morning and coming back in the evening, one finds each of the four seasons has its different scenery, and the pleasure is inexhaustible.

As for the carriers on the road, the wayfarers taking rest under the trees, some shouting ahead and some score behind, and others bent with burdens going to and fro without a break — these are visitors from Chu itself. To angle at the stream where the stream is deep and the fishes are fat; to brew the fountain water into wine where the water is delicious and the wine is clear; and with mountain game and wild vegetable placed before him in a confused manner — that is the Prefect at banquet. The pleasure of revelry is music neither of string, no of bamboo. The shooters hitting the marks; the chess-players scoring victory; winecups and counters mixed together; and people sitting down and rising up with much noise — the guests are happy and merry. And amidst the crowd a man with a sallow face and white hair, being hardly able to stand firm — that is the Prefect made drunk.

Soon the sun touching the mountain, and the shadows of men being scattered in confusion — the Prefect, followed by his guests, is going back. In the shades of the groves warbling is heard up and down — the birds are enjoying themselves after the departure of the visitors. The birds enjoy mountains and woods, but understand not the pleasure of men; and men enjoy the pleasure of following the Prefect in excursion, but they know not what pleasure the Prefect enjoys. He who shares their pleasures in drunkenness, and when awake can relate it in writing — this is the Prefect. Who is the Prefect? — Ou-yang Hsiu of Lu Ling.

（潘正英 译）