Guan Yu's Finger Ring

I was doing research in Hubei

Where they executed Yu,

That deity soldier glorified

By Buddhists, Taoists too,

I sat perusing manuscripts

That dated from the Ming,

And came across a reference

About Yu’s finger ring.

 

A ring of gold so broad that it

Would fit a peasant’s wrist,

For Guan Yu was a mighty man

His ring, an amethyst,

Set round with groups of diamonds

It was lost the day, they said,

That Sun Quan had ordered them

To lop off Guan Yu’s head.

 

They lost it for a thousand years

It turned up with the Ming,

Was lost again in battle with

That mighty force, the Qing,

I’d heard it round the market place

A whisper, now and then,

That ring, it might have surfaced

In the village of Maicheng.

 

I scoured the streets and alleyways

For signs of old antiques,

Researching as I went, I walked

Around the town for weeks,

I found a backstreet corner shop

One night, and open late,

Run by a dodgy Chinaman

A total reprobate.

 

He had links to the Triads, they

Would come into the shop,

A shifty group of gangsters with

Their stolen goods to pop,

From where I sat with manuscripts

Up on the second floor,

I’d look straight down the staircase

Watch them come in through the door.

 

One day they brought in a bundle

Tied up in a burlap sack,

Threw it down on the counter, said:

‘What do you make of that?’

Fang Zhang then opened the parcel and

He pulled out a giant hand,

The flesh the texture of leather with

A monstrous golden band.

 

The ring was almost immoveable

The hand, with fingers spread,

Could grasp a maiden around the waist

Or crush a warrior’s head,

I held my breath as the Triad tried

To disengage the thing,

And all the while the diamonds flashed

On that massive golden ring.

 

Fang Zhang paid over a block of notes

That looked more like a brick,

There must have been a million Yuan

From what I saw of it,

The Triad left and I caught my breath

Fang Zhang had pulled it off,

He threw the hand in a rubbish bin

And then I left the shop.

 

He hid the ring as I walked on through

I had to get some air,

I’d caught a glimpse of a famous ring,

A thing I couldn’t share,

They’d say it didn’t exist, that I

Was dreaming, if I tried,

They thought that it had been lost to view

The day that Yu had died.

 

I went back down the following day

The Police were there in force,

They stood out front and barred the way

From normal intercourse,

They told me through an interpreter

Of the murder of Fang Zhang,

His face was black, for around his neck

Was a massive, ringless hand!

 

David Lewis Paget

 

(Pronunciation: Guan Yu - Gwon you

Hubei - Who - bay; Sun Quan - Sun Chu-arn

Qing - Ching; Maicheng - My - cheng

Fang Zhang - Fang Shjang (soft J))

 

Reviews

[emmajoy]

As ever superb meter, as always, a wonderful tale - I'm running out of superlatives, David. So will merely add a sort of thank you for sharing this post because the end of your poem will probably produce a nightmare for me.. creepy, horrid, fantastic stuff! :)

[Marie]

Obviously Guan Yu didn't like losing his finger ring...I wonder what happened to it after that...?

[TL Boehm]

Somethings should remain untouched - powerful and chilling story.

[Robert Lindsay]

A wonderful yarn with a tasty Chinese flavour!
I had to re-read to get that spooky ending clear.
Guan Yu - or as I more familiarly think of him Guan Gong was always a favourite character of the 3 kingdoms saga. Even in death he is a force to be reckoned with. Respect to the big man!

[Enid Blake]

Very sinister indeed, leave phantom hands be!

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Another wondrously told story. It reminds me of one of the first - if not the first - poems of yours that I read, "The Hand of Tong Bao Lin." What is it with the Chinese and hands? LOL! As always, you're a master.