The River-Merchant's Wife: a Letter
While my hair was still cut straight across my foreheadI played about the front gate, pulling flowers.You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.And we went on living in the village of Chokan:Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.
At fourteen I married My Lord you.I never laughed, being bashful.Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.
At fifteen I stopped scowling,I desired my dust to be mingled with yoursForever and forever, and forever.Why should I climb the look out?
At sixteen you departed,You went into far Ku-to-Yen, by the river of swirling eddies,And you have been gone five months.The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.You dragged your feet when you went out.By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,Too deep to clear them away!The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.The paired butterflies are already yellow with AugustOver the grass in the West garden,They hurt me,I grow older,If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,Please let me know beforehand,And I will come out to meet you,As far as Cho-fu-Sa.
Words in this poem
- went n.
- Course; way; path; journey; direction.
- bashful a.
- Abashed; daunted; dismayed. [See Bash.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The River-Merchant's Wife: a Letter is in the public domain. This text is taken from Cathay, Project Gutenberg ebook #50155; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Ezra Pound, The River-Merchant's Wife: a Letter, in Cathay (1915), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #50155, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/pound-cathay/the-river-merchant-s-wife-a-letter.html, id L01234.
Form and metre
The River-Merchant's Wife: a Letter is 30 lines in 4 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is free verse, as Wikipedia: The River Merchant's Wife: A Letter has it. 84% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 9.7 syllables. 12 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 10% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in free verse.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 2 -AA- you · bashfulA · wallA · back
- 4 A--A------------ departedA · eddies · months · overheadA · out · mosses · away · wind · august · garden · me · older · kiang · beforehand · you · sa
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against free verse. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead | 12 | ·······˘/·/˘ |
| I played about the front gate, pulling flowers. | 11 | ·······/˘/˘ |
| You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse, | 10 | ····˘/·/˘· |
| You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. | 11 | ······/˘··· |
| And we went on living in the village of Chokan: | 13 | ····/˘··/˘··· |
| Two small people, without dislike or suspicion. | 12 | ··/˘··˘/·˘/˘ |
| At fourteen I married My Lord you. | 9 | ·//·/˘··· |
| I never laughed, being bashful. | 8 | ·/˘·/˘/˘ |
| Lowering my head, I looked at the wall. | 10 | /˘˘······· |
| Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back. | 11 | ···/˘··/˘·· |
| At fifteen I stopped scowling, | 7 | ·˘/··/˘ |
| I desired my dust to be mingled with yours | 12 | ·˘/˘····/˘·· |
| Forever and forever, and forever. | 11 | ˘/˘·˘/˘·˘/˘ |
| Why should I climb the look out? | 7 | ······· |
| At sixteen you departed, | 7 | ·˘/·˘/˘ |
| You went into far Ku-to-Yen, by the river of swirling eddies, | 17 | ··········/˘·/˘/˘ |
| And you have been gone five months. | 7 | ······· |
| The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead. | 11 | ·/˘·/˘˘·/˘/ |
| You dragged your feet when you went out. | 8 | ········ |
| By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses, | 14 | ·········/˘˘/˘ |
| Too deep to clear them away! | 7 | ·····˘/ |
| The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind. | 10 | ···/˘·/˘·· |
| The paired butterflies are already yellow with August | 14 | ··/˘··˘/˘/˘·/˘ |
| Over the grass in the West garden, | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| They hurt me, | 3 | ··· |
| I grow older, | 4 | ··/˘ |
| If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang, | 16 | ···/˘···/˘··/˘˘/ |
| Please let me know beforehand, | 7 | ····˘/· |
| And I will come out to meet you, | 8 | ········ |
| As far as Cho-fu-Sa. | 6 | ······ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.