by Chen Jack W
such, it belongs to the ruler’s leisure time—that is, the time leftover from
necessary and useful activity.
In this world composed of pure leisure, the question of time—and the
sovereign’s lack of concern for its passage—is first broached in the second
couplet: Yangdi has just welcomed ( ying 迎) early summer when he al-
most immediately turns to bid farewell ( song 送) to late autumn. Coun-
terpoised to this representation of fleeting temporality are Yangdi’s vi-
gnettes of leisure in the third couplet. Time not only slows in the
recollection of a single moment, but also focuses into sharp detail, bring-
ing memories of languid boating and horseback riding to the poet’s mind.
However, by the last couplet, it is no longer clear whether Yangdi is lost in
the pleasures of Jiangdu, or somewhere else altogether. The lees in his
green wine cup conjure the act of drinking the immortals’ “flowing-clouds
brew,” while the dancing and singing girls make him see his palace as “a
land of joy and delight.” The Southland, which functions as a kind of
dream-space in the imagination of the north, is transformed into a utopia
of pleasure.
—————
60. It is also possible to take guoxia 果下 as a guoxia ma 果下馬 or an “under-fruit horse”
(a very small horse that could easily pass under the fruit hanging from a tree). Yan Zhitui mentions this in Yanshi jiaxun jijie, 4.322–23. I thank Xiaofei Tian for suggesting this possible reading to me. “Purple Steed” 紫騮馬 is a yuefu title. See Yuefu shiji, 21.311, 24.352–55.
“Urging a horse on” ( yue ma 躍馬) is a figure for striving to attain wealth and rank.
61. “Flowing-clouds brew” is the name of an immortal drink. For an anecdote in which one Xiang Mandu 項曼都 encounters immortals and is given this to drink, see Wang
Chong 王充 (27–ca. 100), Lun heng jiaoshi, 7.325–26.
62. “Clear songs” ( qingge 清歌) can also be understood as “a capella songs.”
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The Writing of Imperial Poetry in Medieval China
However, not all of Yangdi’s extant poetry was beholden to the south-
ern courtly style. In another undated poem, one finds Yangdi drawing
more distinctly on Han rhapsodic imagery.63 The following (possibly
fragmentary) poem describes the emperor’s return from Luoyang, the
great “Eastern Metropolis,” to the Sui capital Daxingcheng:
Returning to the Capital 還京師詩64
In the Eastern Metropolis, ritual etiquette is honored, 東都禮儀舉，
To the Western Capital, caps and carriages return.
西京冠蓋歸。
This month marks the boundary of spring,
是月春之季，
Flowers and willows press closely together.
花柳相依依。
The cloud-sweeper clears the imperial highway,
雲蹕清馳道，65
The carved carriage rides early morning rays.
雕輦御晨暉。
Resonant, clear: bells and reeds are sounded,
嘹亮鐃笳奏，
Bristling, dense: flags and banners take flight.
葳蕤旌旆飛。
The rear teams hasten in cultural elegance,
後乘趨文雅，
The front riders speed with martial might.
前驅厲武威。
Because the first two lines make reference to the differences between Da-
xingcheng and Luoyang 雒陽, the two northern capitals under Yangdi, a
brief overview of the Sui capitals may be helpful. The primary capital city
of Daxingcheng was founded by Sui Wendi as the political symbol of the
newly reunified empire in 583.66 Planned by the great architect and engi-
neer Yuwen Kai 宇文愷 (555–612), Daxingcheng represented a change
from the unsettledness and political fragmentation of the preceding sev-
eral centuries, as well as a challenge to the great Western Han capital of
Chang’an. Labor on the second capital, Luoyang, was completed in 606.
Yangdi had the historical metropolis rebuilt for both ideological (political
—————
63. Although this poem is undated, the poetic imagery used to describe the carriage and procession suggests that it postdates Yangdi’s accession.
64. See Chuxue ji, 13.332; Wenyuan yinghua, 170.819; and Xian Qin Han Wei Jin Nanbeichao shi, p. 2669.
65. The “cloud-sweeper” is a kenning for the emperor’s carriage.
66. On this, see Steinhardt, Chinese Imperial City Planning, pp. 94–96; and Xiong, Sui-Tang Chang’an, pp. 31–53. For the issues around the choice of the site and its historical implications, see Li Zefen, “Chang’an cangsang shi.”
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The Writing of Imperial Poetry in Medieval China
185
symbolism) and practical reasons (access to grain from the south).67 As
commented on in the poem, Luoyang possessed a reputation for ritual
propriety that derived in no small part from its representation in the
“Two Capitals Rhapsody” 兩都賦 by Ban Gu.68 Interestingly, the third
capital, Yangdi’s beloved Jiangdu to the south, is absent from the poem.
Not only does the trope of antithesis that structures the entire poem re-
fuse any complicating third term, but Yangdi also cannot admit the geo-
graphic otherness of the south into a poem about northern political space.
Despite the ostensible “northern” register of this poem, Yangdi is nei-
ther interested in the mere reperformance of past sovereign greatness (as
was Zhou Mingdi) nor in poetic praise for the imperial capital (following
Ban Gu). Rather, he scripts a paean to his procession, celebrating the pre-
sent moment and not the historical sites immortalized by Confucian
memory. Thus, we find in the second couplet that Yangdi’s attention
veers from the topic of capitals and settles upon the luxuriant growth of
spring that surrounds his retinue. The evocation of season serves to frame
the central image of the poem: his imperial carriage, which he describes in
parallel statements as the “cloud-sweeper” ( yunbi 雲蹕) and “carved car-
riage” ( diaonian 雕輦). From this point to the close of the poem, Yangdi
describes his procession in all of its splendor and sound. The music of the
bells and pipes are complemented by the countless banners flying in the
wind. This juxtaposition of music and flags is a set image for imperial pro-
cessions, one that we find in countless other rhapsodies and poems. The
last lines of the poem construct a conventional antithesis of cultural pow-
er and military power, of wen and wu, in the description of the officials (“the rear teams”) and the imperial guards (“the front riders”). If this po-em is not a fragment, then the weak closure suggests a loss of interest. One
could imagine the poem continuing remorselessly in a similar vein,
though to do so would risk transmuting the lyric sensibility of the shi po-
em into the exhaustive, cataloguing logic of the fu. As a whole, the poem
seems to foreshadow what would later emerge as the historical contradic-
tions of Sui Yangdi’s reign. On the one hand, the Sui empe
ror understood
the necessity for sovereign rhetoric that could undergird the expressions
—————
67. Yangdi justifies the reconstruction of Luoyang in a 604 edict. He alludes to the Zhou capital of Luoyi 洛邑 and appeals to Han Gaozu’s praise for Luoyang. See Sui shu, 3.60–62.
68. See Hou Han shu, 40A.1335–40B.1373; and Wen xuan, 1.1–46.
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186
The Writing of Imperial Poetry in Medieval China
of power. On the other hand, he much preferred the enjoyments of the
present moment, turning a poem on the emperor’s majestic return to the
capital into a poem about parade and spectacle.
There is no trace of sovereign ambivalence, however, in one of Yangdi’s
best-known poems: his “Imitating a Song of ‘Watering Horses by the
Great Wall’” 擬飲馬長城窟行.69 This poem belongs to a yuefu thematic
series, with seventeen surviving pieces collected in the Yuefu shiji.70 Yang-di’s poem is eleventh in the grouping, and it articulates the viewpoint of a
conscript soldier at the Chinese-Turkish borders.
Imitating a Song of “Watering Horses
by the Great Wall” 擬飲馬長城窟行
Desolately the autumn wind rises,
肅肅秋風起，
In the vast distance, we march thousands of
悠悠行萬里。
miles.
[rhyme: 止 tsyiQ]
Thousands of miles—and for what do we march?
萬里何所行，
We traverse the desert to build the Great Wall.
橫漠築長城。
How could it be this lowly person’s wisdom?
豈台小子智，
This is what the former sage-kings constructed.
先聖之所營。
They set this plan of a myriad generations,
樹玆萬世策，
To bring security to the lives of millions.
安此億兆生。
How could we dare shrink from anxious
詎敢憚焦思，
thoughts,
And sleep free of worries in the imperial capital?
高枕於上京。
By the northern river we carry the war tallies,
北河秉武節，
For a thousand miles we unfurl the martial
千里捲戎旌。
banners.
[rhyme:
清 tsheing / 庚 keing]
—————
69. I follow the text preserved in Yuefu shiji, 28.559. Also see Wenyuan yinghua, 209.1037b (which has some variant characters); and Xian Qin Han Wei Jin Nanbeichao shi, p. 2661.
In preparing the translations of the yuefu, I have consulted Allen, In the Voice of Others, pp.
74–76; and Owen, Poetry of the Early T’ang, pp. 21–22.
70. See Yuefu shiji, 38.555–63. Joseph R. Allen has translated all seventeen of the poems, analyzing what he calls their “intratextual relationships” (as opposed to intertextual). See Allen, In the Voice of Others, pp. 69–102.
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The Writing of Imperial Poetry in Medieval China
187
Mountains and streams together emerge and
山川互出沒，
disappear,
The plains and wilds stretch into the remote
原野窮超忽。
distance.
The clanging brass halts the marching troops,
摐金止行陳，
The sounding drums stir up the rank and file.
鳴鼓興士卒。
A thousand wagons, ten thousand riders, in
千乘萬騎動，
motion,
Watering horses by the Great Wall.
飲馬長城窟。
Autumn dusk, clouds beyond the border,
秋昏塞外雲，
Fog obscures the moon above the passes and
霧暗關山月。
mountains.
At the edges of the cliffs the courier horses
緣嚴驛馬上，
climb,
As if riding the void, the beacon fires glow.
乘空烽火發。
Inquiring after the Chang’an lords,
借問長安候，
The Khan enters the court to submit.
單于入朝謁。
[rhyme:
沒 met / 月 ngwat]
The muddy aura clears over the Tianshan range,
濁氣靜天山，71
Morning light shines on our high passes.
晨光照高關。
Discharged soldiers still in their formations,
釋兵仍振旅，
The crucial work of the wilds is now done.
要荒事方舉。
When the drinks arrive we proclaim our return,
飲至告言旋，
Our deeds will be honored before the ancestral
功歸清廟前。
temple.
[rhyme:
刪 sran / 先 san]
This poem is what one would expect from an emperor anxious to demon-
strate a public-minded ( gong 公) conscience. Yangdi assumes the voice of
a conscripted soldier, though one that seems to lack any hint of sorrow
over parting or complaint about the hard life of a military conscript, both
of which were common elements for this persona. Instead, the poem con-
structs a fantasy of Sui China’s power over the growing empire of the
Eastern Turks, who occupied the territory that is roughly equivalent to
modern Mongolia, from the point of view of state ideology. The reality
was quite different, of course, as the true weakness of the Sui unification
—————
71. The Tianshan range runs through the center of modern Xinjiang province.
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188
The Writing of Imperial Poetry in Medieval China
became apparent in the wake of Eastern Turk recalcitrance and the failure
of repeated campaigns against Koguryŏ (modern Korea).72 However, the
poem was successful as a representation of imperial virtue—even the
otherwise critical Confucian moralist Wei Zheng praised the poem.73
The rhyme scheme of the poem lends aural drama to the lyric narrative.
It begins with a rising-tone rhymed couplet, and then opens up with a vast,
expansive feeling in level-tone rhymes of the next ten lines. This empty,
desolate sense changes in the next twelve lines, with a shift to an entering-
tone rhyme that conveys a more urgent, sharper sound and imitates the
battle depicted in the poem. The last six lines are phonologically prob-
lematic: the rhyme-position character ju 舉 (in the twenty-eighth line) is
out of place, belonging to the rising tone 語 ( nguoH) rhyme. The rest of
the stanza otherwise follows a level-tone rhyme, which nicely reflects the
achievement of a new Sui peace.74
It is worth comparing Yangdi’s version of “Watering Horses” to that
of Chen Houzhu. After the conquest of the Chen, the last southern em-
peror went to live in Chang’an, as a “guest” of Sui Wendi. Wendi evi-
dently enjoyed the former Chen emperor’s company, and he bestowed a
surprising number of high honors upon him. Still, Wendi, whose favorite
text, of all things, seems to ha
ve been the Xiao jing 孝經 ( Classic of Filial Piety), disliked the flowery language of southern poetry. This was, of
course, the former Chen emperor’s true talent, and his version of the
“Watering Horses” reflects his rather more aesthetic sensibilities:
The war-horse enters another land,
征馬入他鄉，
The mountain flowers on this night shine.
山花此夜光。
Separated from its herd, it neighs at its shadow,
離群嘶向影，
By the wind, the fragrance is repeatedly stirred.
因風屢動香。
—————
72. The historical background is quite complex. The Sui had been successful for a time in controlling the Western and Eastern Turks, but this power had begun to fade. The Eastern Turks and Koguryŏ had been in secret talks for an alliance. Once the Sui found out, they attempted to send a Turkish mercenary force against the kingdom of Koguryŏ, but no Turks would agree to fight. The Sui military force was sent forth three times without real success, and the fall of the dynasty prevented a fourth expedition. See Wright, Sui Dynasty, pp. 187–95.
73. Stephen Owen points this out in his Poetry of the Early T’ang, p. 21.
74. It is possible that the character ju 舉 is the result of textual corruption, though no textual variants are preserved.
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The Writing of Imperial Poetry in Medieval China
189
The moon’s beauty envelops the Wall in gloom,
月色含城暗，
Autumn sounds mix in the frontiers, drawn out.
秋聲雜塞長。
How can I repay my emperor?
何以酬天君，
With horsehide coffins in the borderlands.
