A Song Of Painting: To General Cao Ba

You, General Cao Ba,
    descendant of Cao Cao,
now live as a peasant,
    a cold-door commoner.
Your ancestor's heroic age
    carved out kingdoms of old,
and its cultural brilliance, its style,
    still survive in your work.

To learn calligraphy
    you first studied Lady Wei;
your only regret was not surpassing
    the great Wang Xizhi .
You said, "Caught up in my painting,
    I give no thought to old age;
riches and rank are to me
    no more than clouds floating by."
Often summoned to court
    during the Kaiyuan period,
frequently you ascended the dais
    to receive the Emperor's praise.
In the Gallery of Famous Men
    the noble faces were fading;
going to work with your brush
    you brought back their freshness.
On the ministers' heads you repainted
    their hats of office,
at the waists of the fierce generals,
    their great feathered arrows.
The Duke of Bao and Duke of E--
    so lifelike their hair bristles--
stand grim, bold and heroic,
    as if in the midst of battle.

The late Emperor's imperial horse,
    Jade-Flower Dapple,
had been painted by artist after artist,
    but none could capture his essence.
One day he was led into the courtyard
    below the red steps of the palace;
standing there by the palace gates
    he embodied the wind of the plains.
At the Emperor's command
    you stretched white silk to paint on;
calling up all of your skill,
    you formed the image in your mind.
In a flash, from the nine-fold heavens,
    the true "dragon" emerged!
At one stroke, the horse paintings of ages
    were obliterated.
When the painting was taken up
    and hung above the throne,
the horse on the wall and that in the yard
    gazed proudly into each other's face.
Smiling, the Emperor hastened his aide
    to bring a handsome reward;
stable-boys and grooms stood long-faced,
    jealous of His Majesty's favor.

Your pupil Han Gan was long since
    shown all your techniques;
he too can paint horses,
    horses in every stance imaginable,
but Gan paints only the outer flesh,
    not the strength that lies beneath;
his brush would dampen the spirit
    of legendary Hualiu!

The General is a superb painter
    because he captures the essence.
In the past you often rendered
    likenesses of distinguished men;
in the present troubled times,
    uprooted and homeless,
you are reduced to painting portraits
    of humble passersby.

So desperate are your straits, you put up
    with the snubs of commoners--
never in the world
    has anyone been as poor as you!
But look at the lives of famous men
    throughout history--
they too were forced to deal
    with endless frustrations