Prevod

Humu Ban, whose courtesy name was Jiyou, was a native of Taishan. Once, while passing near Mount Tai, he suddenly encountered a red-robed attendant among the trees, who called to him, “The Lord of Mount Tai summons you.” Ban was so startled that he hesitated without answering. A second attendant emerged and called to him again. He followed them for several dozen paces, and then one of the attendants asked him to close his eyes for a moment. Presently he found himself before a palace of imposing splendor, where all was solemn and majestic. Ban entered and paid his respects. His host had food set before him and said, “I wished to see you for no other reason than to ask you to carry a letter to my son-in-law.” Ban asked, “Where is your daughter?” “She is married to the River Lord,” he replied. Ban said, “I shall gladly carry your letter, but how am I to deliver it?” The Lord answered, “When you reach the middle of the river, knock on the side of your boat and call for the maid in blue. Someone will come to take the letter.” Ban then took his leave. The attendant who had brought him again told him to close his eyes, and a moment later he suddenly found himself back on the road. He continued westward and, following the god’s instructions, called for the maid in blue. Before long, a maidservant appeared, took the letter, and vanished beneath the water. A little later she emerged again and said, “The River Lord wishes to see you for a moment.” She too asked him to close his eyes, and he was brought before the River Lord. The River Lord spread a lavish feast of food and wine and spoke to him with great warmth. As Ban was leaving, he said, “I am grateful to you for bringing a letter from so far away, yet I have nothing worthy to offer you.” Then he ordered his attendants, “Bring me my blue silk shoes!” and presented them to Ban. Ban went out, closed his eyes, and suddenly found himself back in his boat. He spent a year in Chang’an before returning home. When he reached the vicinity of Mount Tai, he did not dare pass by without announcing himself. He knocked on a tree, gave his name, and said that he had returned from Chang’an and wished to report his news. Before long, the same attendant appeared and led him in by the same means as before. Ban delivered a letter to the Lord of Mount Tai. The Lord asked him to stay before they parted and thanked him once again. When their conversation was over, Ban went to relieve himself and suddenly saw his father in shackles, laboring among several hundred other convicts. Ban approached, bowed, and asked through his tears, “Father, how have you come to this?” His father replied, “After my death, I had the misfortune to be sentenced to three years of labor. Two years have now passed. The suffering here is unbearable. Since you are now acquainted with His Lordship, will you plead my case and beg him to release me from this service? All I ask is to become a village earth god.” Ban did as his father asked, bowing his head to the ground and pleading on his behalf. The Lord said, “The living and the dead follow different paths and must not draw close to one another. For my own part, I would begrudge you nothing.” Ban begged so insistently that at last the Lord consented. He then took his leave and returned home. Within a little over a year, nearly all his children had died. In terror, Ban went back to Mount Tai, knocked on the tree, and asked for an audience. The same attendant came to meet him and brought him before the Lord. Ban said, “When I took my leave before, I was careless and foolish in what I said. After I returned home, my children died until almost none remained. Now I fear these calamities may not yet be over, so I have come to tell you and beg you to take pity on me and save us.” The Lord clapped his hands and laughed aloud. “That is why I told you before that the living and the dead follow different paths and must not draw close to one another.” He immediately ordered those outside to summon Ban’s father. The father soon arrived, and the Lord questioned him in the courtyard: “When you asked to return as the earth god of your home village, you should have brought blessings upon your household. Why, then, have nearly all your grandchildren died?” He answered, “I had been away from my native village for so long that I was overjoyed to return. Finding food and wine in abundance, I dearly missed my grandchildren and summoned them to join me.” The Lord thereupon had him replaced. Ban’s father went out weeping, and Ban returned home. All the children born to him afterward remained safe and well.