Yetgeul › Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) › Former Collection, Book 6

On the Fifth of the Eighth Month, Hearing That the Bands of Robbers Grow Ever Stronger八月五日。聞羣盜漸熾。

Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) 東國李相國集 · Yi Gyubo · Compiled 1241 (Goryeo, 28th year of King Gojong); revised and enlarged 1251 · 1 passages · 192 Chinese characters · reading time 2 min

Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) Former Collection, Book 6 The collected writings of Yi Gyubo of Goryeo, gathered and cut in woodblock by his son Yi Ham in 1241 and revised and enlarged by his grandson Yi Ikbae in 1251. It holds poems and rhapsodies, memorials and reports sent up to the king, records written for temples and pagodas, stele and tomb inscriptions, letters and prefaces, and the state letters that passed to and from the Mongols during the invasions. The Lay of King Dongmyeong, which sings the founder of Goguryeo, stands in volume 3 of the first collection, and the daily life of a man who called himself the White Cloud Layman — with his wine, his zither and his verse — fills the later collection. The book closes with the last poem he wrote as his eyes failed and he laid down the brush, and with the dirge and tomb inscription others made for him after his death.

羣盜如蝟毛。生民洒腥血。郡守徒戎衣。望敵氣先奪。尙未掃蜂毒。況堪探虎穴。嗟哉時無人。誰繼來嚼鐵。賊臂捷於猿。放箭若星瞥。賊脛迅於鹿。越山如電滅。士卒追不及。聚首空呀咄。幸能觸其鋒。物故十七八。婦女哭夫壻。髽首吊枯骨。荒村早關門。白日行旅絶。今年況復旱。望雨甚於渴。田野皆赤土。未見苗芽茁。富屋已憂飢。貧者何由活。朱門日吐茵。百爵耳自熱。高堂森玉簪。密席擁羅襪。但識門燻灼。不憂國□〔⿰木⿱臼土〕杌。腐儒雖無知。流涕每鳴咽。嗟非肉食徒。未掉直言舌。已矣若爲陳。天陛無由謁。

The bands of robbers are like the bristles of a hedgehog, and the people scatter their rank blood. The garrison commander has merely put on his armor, and looking out at the foe his spirit breaks first. They cannot yet sweep away so much as a wasp's sting — how then should they grope into the tiger's den? Alas, in this time there is no man. Who will come after him who chewed iron? The robbers' arms are quicker than a monkey's, and when they loose an arrow it is as a star grazing by. The robbers' shins are faster than a deer's, and they cross a mountain as lightning dies away. The soldiers give chase and cannot come up with them, and putting their heads together they only click their tongues for nothing. If by chance one runs upon their blade, seven or eight in ten are killed. The wives wail for their husbands, and with their hair let down they mourn the dried bones. The rough villages shut their gates early, and even in broad day no one goes upon the roads. This year, moreover, there is drought, and the longing for rain is worse than thirst. The fields and the plains are all red earth, and no sprout has been seen to rise. Even the well-off houses already fear starvation — by what are the poor to live? At the red gates they vomit upon their mats day after day, and at a hundred cups their ears burn of themselves. In the high halls the jade hairpins are thick, and the crowded mats are ringed with silken socks. They know only that their own lineage flourishes and have no care for the □ol (杌) of the state. Though a rotten scholar knows nothing, he sheds tears and his throat chokes always. Alas, I am not of the flesh-eating sort, and so I cannot ply a tongue that speaks straight. Enough of it — how am I to make it known? There is no way for me to be seen at the palace steps.