Salt and a Flock of Sheep

Let me begin with a story.

Once upon a time, there was a narrow street lined with fine gardens and elegant courtyards. An emperor housed his one thousand beauties here. Each night, he would pick a name from his list and then shower his love on the lucky lady. He soon tired of this method and devised a sheep-drawn (or perhaps goat-drawn) carriage to let the sheep make the decision. Wherever the carriage stopped, a lantern would be hung at the door, and a night of tenderness would begin.

One clever lady, and the most beautiful of all, took fate in her own hands. Every day, she would have the freshest grass cut and put near her doorstep at dusk, thus she secured the emperor's favors night after night. But before long, fresh cut grass began to appear at nearly every door and things went back to usual. Determined to be the emperor's only love, the woman one day discovered that a little salt added to the grass would make the sheep much happier. From that night on, they would not eat any other grass but hers, and no one knew why.

When evening falls, the lanterns look fat. All is before me
But mind is on salt and flock of sheep

This twelfth-century story of an emperor and his concubines, condensed into two cryptic lines in the love poem Phoenix, gives a glimpse of the older, grander, and tenacious tradition that remains operative in Zheng Danyi's poetry. Remote, obscure, decadent, perhaps even politically incorrect, the story nonetheless intrigues, lending a seductive charm to the poem. In his poems, we feel the light and shadows of the ancient legacy, yet, like the story of salt and sheep, they shine through just enough to give depth and context, while their dates and facts may evade us.

The above is an excerpt from the introduction Zheng Danyi's Wings of Summer by Luo Hui.

And what do those lines of poetry suggest to me? Those moments in a relationship when all is before you, but the one thing you can think about is how to carry out your one little trick or ritual that somehow manages to keep the love flowing. Perhaps a strategy to control the experience. Or just get laid. Here is the full stanza.


Here is no home, but the summer breeze is just as cool
Now I see her drinking cold water. Then
She counts the freckles on my neck
When evening comes, the lanterns look fat. All is before me
But my mind is on salt and a flock of sheep.