Hurtin', Leavin' and Longin' (15)—Pocket Full of Gold

Click here to read the introduction to the Round and Square series "Hurtin', Leavin', and Longin'..."

[a] Pocketful  RF

I know that I say this every week, but this one is depressing. The thing about these Hurtin' lyrics, though, is that they (I think Tolstoy said something along these lines) are all miserable in their own specific ways. Well, this one is all about cheatin', and it aint' pretty.

It starts out with what one sleazy guy can get away with, but it soon leads to a tumble of broken lives. This cheating song has a twist, too. The cheater is going to get what's coming to him (with more broken lives implied beyond the devastation). It is not the average cheating song that has a tombstone in its rearview mirror. 

It must also be said that Vince Gill (one of the most consistently likeable people in Nashville) throws in an odd line that reverts to the kind of patriarchal tribalism of the desert...and the backwoods. You'll hear it if you listen, and if you have some feminist gumption in your listening gear (regardless of gender), you might, like me, be  a little bit annoyed. It's a great and painful song, though, and the powerful duet of Gill and Loveless makes it all the more rich.

Pocket Full of Gold  4:21

Pocket Full of Gold (Gill/Loveless)  3:57

For advice on how best to "engage" the lyrics, click here.

Pocket Full of Gold

—Vince Gill (Patty Loveless)

Brian Allsmiller, Vince Gill 

He slipped the ring off his finger
When he walked in the room
And he found him some stranger
And promised her the moon
How many lies you must have told
You think you're a rich man
With your pocket full of gold

For another man's treasure
You'd say anything
But is one night of pleasure
Worth the trouble you'll bring

Don't look so surprised
'Cause son I should know
I once was a rich man
With my pocket full of gold

Some night you're gonna wind up
On the wrong end of a gun
Some jealous guy's gonna show up
And you'll pay for what you've done
What will it say on your tombstone
Here lies a rich man
With his pocket full of gold

Yeah, here lies a rich man
With his pocket full of gold

There is no precise equivalent in Chinese poetry to a cheatin' theme like this one. You can page through the Complete Tang Poems and the Complete Song Lyrics (I just did, and it took the better part of a day, even at whirlwind pace) without finding the kinds of phrases sung by Vince Gill and Patty Loveless. But that, of course, has never been the objective of the juxtaposed poems in Round and Square's Sunday Hurtin' posts. The point is to perceive the themes we have just confronted in a new way—through a different lens, as it were. Li He's poem about a high-end brothel does have some resonance with Vince Gill's song (especially the image of the dashing young man with his pocket full of green quartz encrusted whip). It is different in profound ways, though, and that should tell us as much about poetic contrasts as one-to-one comparisons.

       Li He
       Pleasures of the Night
          Red silk lines the chamber curtains, their tassels fringed with gold;
          A chased candelabra's nine branches are hung with figures of carp.
          Gorgeous girls, shimmering in the moonlight, unfasten the ringed latch;
          They serve up spring freshets of wine from a gibbon-shaped jar.

[b] Guesthouse (Ma Lin)  PD

          The price is dear—a casket of incense, ten sticks;
          Gold nuggets (pink "melon-seeds" and dark "bran-meal");
          A green jade duck, with a cover worked in five colors—
          But A Hou requires these gifts with a measureless wealth of smiles!
          Over her south rooms, when heaven's river recedes, shadows fade from blinds;
          Crows call from the tung groves, snug in nests with their young.
          The fine sword and whip he carries are crusted with green quartz and pearls;
          His white steed snorts froth that congeals on the frosty mane.
          As the water clock brims, she sends jade pendants off to Ch'eng Ming Lodge;
          The storied pleasure house looms high, lonely in the moonlight.
          The next guest dismounts as the old guest goes;
          And again she touches up jet brows, combs her shining dark coiffure.[1]
                                                                    —Translated by Maureen Robertson

[1] Wu-chi Liu and Irving Yucheng Lo, Sunflower Splendor: Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry (Bloomington IN: Indiana University Press, 1974), 229-230.

Bibliography
Liu Wu-chi and Irving Yucheng Lo. Sunflower Splendor: Three Thousand Years of Chinese Poetry. Bloomington IN: Indiana University Press, 1974.

NEXT

Sunday, August 14th 
Cheap Whiskey
We spiral further into drink and despair next week, with the smell of cheap whiskey...and the sound of goodbye.