le pavillon aux pivoines - Maison des Cultures du Monde

Tu Li-niang: Chun-hsiang!
Chun-hsiang: I am here.
Tu Li-niang: Chun-hsiang, did you tell the
gardener to sweep clear the paths between
the flower-beds?
Chun-hsiang: I have already asked him to.
Mistress, here is your mirror.
Tu Li-niang: Place it there.
Chun-hsiang: Yes.
Tu Li-niang: What a beautiful day!
Chun-hsiang: Everything’s ready for you to
comb your coiffure, Mistress.
Tu Li-niang: Like a trace of silken gossamer,
Spring wafts its way into the quiet courtyard.
I pause for a moment
To adjust my ornamental hairpin,
Feeling for its caltrop-flower head.
Half captured in the mirror’s reflection,
My billowing hairdo is capriciously lopsided.
Pacing my fragrant boudoir,
How can I show myself openly as I am?
Chun-hsiang: Mistress… See how beautiful is
your dazzling emerald gown,
These glistening ruby hairpins and jewelled
pendants.
Tu Li-niang: Chun-hsiang… By this you see I
have always had a fondness for nature.
Chun-hsiang: Come, Mistress, let us go outside
now.
Ensemble: Such pristine loveliness no eye
man has seen!
Birds will surely twitter in alarm
At beauty that “makes fishes dive, geese plunge
to earth”.
–29–
Or else the flowers will tremble in dismay
At loveliness that “shames their blossoms and
veil the moon”.
Chun-hsiang: We have reached the garden
gate. Mistress, please enter.
Tu Li-niang: Let us go inside the garden, and
see… On the painted veranda lies a scattering
of gold dust.
Chun-hsiang: Oh Mistress, this is the goldfish
pond.
Tu Li-niang: Beside the pond stretches a green
carpet of moss.
Chun-hsiang: Stepping on the grass,
I fear our new embroidered stockings will
be muddied.
I grieve that the flowers
Must bear the weight of tiny golden bells.
Tu Li-niang: Chun-hsiang!
Chun-hsiang: Yes, Mistress?
Tu Li-niang: But for visiting this garden, I
would have remained quite unaware of
spring’s loveliness.
Chun-hsiang: Yes indeed.
Tu Li-niang: Beautiful purple and crimson flowers
on every side
Seem to bloom alone for broken well or crumbling
wall.
Heaven sends beguiling hours amid lovely scenes,
But where are appreciative hearts to rejoice in
them?
Scudding at dawn, convoluted at dusk,
Pink clouds set off green balustrades.
Wind-borne petals amid drifting rain
Or gaudy pleasure-boats on misty waters;