fanned their faces, and trees and shrubs burst into exuberant foliage. It was summer! Again, he struck the fifth note of the scale, harmonizing with it the first upper accord; whereupon hoarfrost appeared and snow began to fall, and the streams and pools froze hard. It was winter! Once more, he struck the fourth note of the scale, setting in motion the fourth upper accord; whereupon the sun burst out in an excess of brilliancy and heat and the fast bound ice thawed rapidly. Finally he played a grand chord, the dominant of which was the first note of the scale, and immediately a delicious breeze sprang up, auspicious clouds floated across the sky, a sweet dew fell, and a fountain of pure water bubbled up from the ground." So wrote Lieh Tzu.
Almost a thousand years before the reign of Ming Huang, a Bureau of Music had been established in the Han Dynasty. It was given the task of selecting and editing folksongs to be preserved in ink so that they could be swallowed by generations far in the future. The songs, rough though many of them were, were diligently studied and polished. Most folksongs originate in the hearts of the people. Genius is not the sole province of scholars. Nor is it necessary for a man to be educated to have great thoughts. Unforgettable songs have been composed by men who could not use a bamboo pen or understand a printed character. Their songs were written on the air, by hearts that could not be stilled. In the solitude of the fields, the forests and the mountains, they chanted their thoughts to the dawn.
In sadness, it was a lament, and the note in the wind
