Original Text
In Tianjin, there was a man who caught birds with a bow and arrow tied to a string. He captured a female wild goose, and the male goose followed it to his home, crying mournfully and circling in the air, not leaving until dusk. The next day, when the bird-catcher went out in the morning, the male goose had already arrived, flying and calling as it followed him, eventually landing at his feet. The bird-catcher wanted to catch this goose as well, but saw it stretching its neck, bobbing up and down, and spitting out half a tael of gold. The bird-catcher understood its intent and said, "Is this to ransom your mate?" He then released the female goose. The two geese circled and hovered, seeming both joyful and sorrowful, before flying away together. The bird-catcher weighed the gold and found it to be over two taels and six mace. Alas! What do birds know, yet they can be so devoted to love! The most grievous thing is the forced separation of lovers—are animals also capable of such feelings?
Commentary
The Yuan dynasty literary figure Yuan Haowen once wrote a poem titled "Groping for Fish: The Wild Goose Mound," which says: "In the year Yichou, I traveled to Bingzhou for the imperial examinations. On the road, I met a fowler who said, 'Today I caught a wild goose and killed it. The one that escaped the net cried out in grief and would not leave, finally throwing itself to the ground and dying.' I therefore bought the dead goose, buried it by the Fen River, piled stones as a marker, and called it the Wild Goose Mound. I also composed a poem, which goes: 'Ask the world, what is love? That it teaches life and death to pledge each other. Flying north and south, a pair of travelers, their old wings have weathered many winters and summers. Joy in their togetherness, sorrow in their parting, among them there are even more foolish lovers. You must have words to say, through vast layers of clouds, a thousand mountains in evening snow, to whom will your solitary shadow go? On the road by the Fen River, lonely are the flutes and drums of yesteryear. Mist still rises over the level plains. To summon your soul with Chu songs, what use is regret? The mountain spirits weep in the wind and rain. Heaven itself is jealous, and will not believe that orioles and swallows all turn to yellow earth. For a thousand ages, ten thousand years, I leave this for poets to come, to sing wildly and drink deeply, and visit the place of the Wild Goose Mound.'" The story "The Swan" writes of the same content, and both reflect the writer's compassion and their praise for the power of emotion.