since the Han dynasty; one poet alone, Po Chü-i, broke through the restraints of pedantry, erasing every expression that his charwoman could not understand.
Translators have naturally avoided the most allusive poems and have omitted or generalized such allusions as occurred. They have frequently failed to recognize allusions as such, and have mistranslated them accordingly, often turning proper names into romantic sentiments.
Li's reputation, like all success, is due partly to accident. After suffering a temporary eclipse during the Sung dynasty, he came back into favour in the sixteenth century, when most of the popular anthologies were made. These compilations devote an inordinate space to his works, and he has been held in corresponding esteem by a public whose knowledge of poetry is chiefly confined to anthologies.
Serious literary criticism has been dead in China since that time, and the valuations then made are still accepted.
Like Miss Havisham's clock, which stopped at twenty to nine on her wedding-day, the clock of Chinese esteem stopped at Li Po centuries ago, and has stuck there ever since.
But I venture to surmise that if a dozen representative English poets could read Chinese poetry in the original, they would none of them give either the first or second place to Li Po.
XXXI. 25.
LIFE OF LI PO, FROM THE "NEW HISTORY OF THE
T'ANG DYNASTY," COMPOSED IN THE ELEVENTH CENTURY.
Li Po, styled T'ai-po, was descended in the ninth generation from the Emperor Hsing-shēng.[1] One of his ancestors was charged with a crime at the end of the Sui dynasty,[2] and took refuge in Turkestan. At the beginning of the period Shēn-lung[3] the family returned and settled in
