Just azure emptiness, to wet the cloak.
* * *
It is in response to this poem, inscribed upon a painting by Wang Wei, that the great Song dynasty poet Su Dong-po said, “Whenever I savor a poem by Wang Wei I find something of painting; and when I contemplate his paintings I discover poetry”
WANG WEI
Birdsong Torrent
Man in repose: the cassia flowers falling.
Night calm: spring mountains empty.
Moon surges: startles mountain birds.
Sometimes their cries, within spring’s torrent.
* * *
See this page–this page regarding the cadence.
WANG WEI
Dike of the Cormorants
Now down among red lotus plunged,
Now out above the bright strand soaring:
Stands lone: the spread of plumage,
Fish in his beak, on a floating log.
WANG WEI
Lake Yi
With flute song, to the shore:
As sun sets, see you off.
On the lake, turned back an instant:
White clouds embrace green mountain.
* * *
Line 4: White clouds symbolize separation and journeying; the green mountain (the presence of the woman), eternal hope. The two images combined suggest, moreover, the intimate ties which unite the two beings.
WANG WEI
On Hightower
We say farewell, at Hightower.
The river and the plain, lost in the dusk.
Sun sets, the birds fly home.
The traveler’s moving restless, on.
WANG HAN
Song of Liang-zhou
Good wine of the grape: cup of night’s brightness
To drink to the pi-pa, rushing on horseback.
If I lie drunk upon this sandy field, don’t laugh!
From all these frontier wars, how many have returned?
* * *
Liang-zhou is a frontier post in the far northwest of China in Gan-su province. This poem, and the four following, take as their theme “life on the frontier,” a particularly important theme during the Tang, owing to the constant need to defend against “barbarian” attacks in the northwest. These poems describe departure for the frontier, the difficult life in the desert regions, scenes of battle, and the human dramas (separation, death without burial, etc.) that took place there. Sometimes, as in this poem, which is charged with a certain romanticism, they sing the joy of discovery of “exotic” things, such as the “good grape wine” and the pi-pa, a musical instrument that originated in Central Asia.
Line 3: sandy field = battlefield.
LU LUN
Song of the Frontier (1)
Moon dark, wild geese high up.
The Khan, fled in the night.
Quick to the chase, the Light Horse,
Snow heavy on each blade and bow.
LU LUN
Song of the Frontier (2)
Grove dark, grass shivers in the wind.
The general draws his bow in the night.
Bright morn, he seeks the feathered end:
The shaft sunk deep in stone.
* * *
The last line refers to a story from the Han Shu (History of the Han Dynasty): “When Li Guang was hunting, he mistook a stone in the grass for a tiger. With all his strength he drew his bow, and buried the shaft of the arrow to the feathers in the stone.”
CHEN TAO
Song of Long-xi
Sworn to the death to exterminate the Huns:
Five thousand sable doublets on that alien ground.
Pity, by Lost River there, those bones,
Men still, in the dreams of their lovers.
* * *
Longxi = northwestern frontier region, in Shaan-xi and Gan-su.
Line 2: sable doublets = uniform of the Chinese soldiers.
Line 3: This river, situated north of Shaan-xi, takes its name, “Lost River,” “Restless River,” from the fact that it often changes its course; here it alludes to the “lostness” of the souls of the unburied dead.
JIN CHANG-XU
Spring Sorrow
Chase off the yellow oriole.
Don’t let her sing on the branch.
Her song can but disturb my dreams.
I’ll never reach Liao-xi.
* * *
Liao-xi = frontier post in Gan-su of the husband of the young woman, where, in an instant of reverie, she finds herself en route to rejoin him.
LI YI
Northern Campaign
After Tian-shan’s snows, cold desert wind.
Flute sounds all about, the going hard.
Three hundred thousand men, among these rocks,
This once, as one, together turn: gaze on the moon.
* * *
This Northern Campaign took place in Xin-jiang, province on the northwest frontier.
LI YI
Song of South of the River
Married to a Ju-tang river trader.
Morn, and morn, and tidings never come.
If I had only known how faithful tide can be…
Better to have wed a player on the waves.
* * *
Ju-tang is located on the upper Yang-tze; it is an important port for the river trade.
Line 4, “player on the waves”: In the South, at the mouths of rivers, notably the Qian-tang, crowds mass on the night of a full moon to admire the young swimmers who play in the waves of the mounting tidal bores. Note in addition the wordplay involving both phonic and graphic connections between “day after day” (morn and morn) in line 2, and “tide” in line 3: the words “day” (or “morning”) and “tide” are very similar in pronunciation, and, in addition, the second is formed of the first plus the radical for water. Note also that there are sexual connotations in the images of “tide” and “players on the waves.”
ZHANG JIU-LING
“Since you, my lord, left me”
Since you, my lord, left me,
All my labors, left undone.
Thinking of you, I am like the full moon,
Night follows night, bright luster wanes.
* * *
“Since you, my lord, left me” is a title used by many earlier poets; the quatrain is a variation on an ancient theme. In the original the third line contains an ellipsis: Thinking of you, like full moon…night to night, wanes pure bright.
WANG CHANG-LING
Palace Lament
Young wife in her chamber, so innocent of grief.
Spring morn adorned, she climbs blue tower.
A sudden she sees, along the lane, the willow’s colors,
Now sorrows that she sent him off, in search of honors.
* * *
Line 3: The willow, with its tender green and graceful branches, symbolizes spring-time and youth. In addition, the word willow plays a part in numerous expressions having to do with love and romance. See p.110 for a discussion of symbolic images.
WANG CHANG-LING
In the Company of a Monk
Palm blossoms fill the court.
Moss grows in the empty room.
All conversation done,
In emptiness, sensing a strange fragrance.
LI BAI
Down River to Jiang-ling
Morning, from Bai-di, among the particolored clouds,
A thousand li within one day, to Jiang-ling.
On both banks the apes’ cries unceasing.
This light craft passed ten thousand mountain ranges.
* * *
This poem takes as its theme the passage of the Yang-tze gorges, which stretch for several hundred kilometers from Bai-di (“City of the White Emperor”) downstream to Jiang-ling in Hu-bei province. For those who made it, this passage, characterized by vertiginous rapidity, and full of perils, left an unforgettable memory. Li Bai made the voyage at least twice: in his youth, when he took leave of Si-chuan, his birthplace; and later, after his exile
in 759.
LI BAI
Seeing off Meng Hao-ran at the Pavilion of the Yellow Crane
Old friend, you go west from this pavilion,
Through misted blossoms, in the third month, to Yang-zhou.
The lonely sail, its distant shape, past green peaks, gone.
All I can see, Long River to the edge of sky, it’s flowing.
LI BAI
Written after Drunk at Mount Tong-guan
My love, my joy, is Mount Tong-guan.
A thousand years, no thought of a return.
I dance, I wave my sleeve,
Sweep clean, The Mountain of the Five Trunked Pines.
LI BAI
Drinking with a Friend, among the Mountains
Together, we drink; the mountain flowers open.
A cup, a cup, and one more cup.
Drunk, I’d sleep; you go.
Tomorrow, come again: Do bring your lute.
LI BAI
Sitting at Reverence Mountain
Flocks have flown high up and gone.
A single cloud fades into emptiness.
In meditation, endlessly, we two.
Then only the Mountain of Reverence.
* * *
It is by design that we have translated the fourth line in a “paradoxical” fashion, when to make it comprehensible it would be necessary to say “Nothing remains but the mountain and me.” But in the Chinese text “and me” is absent; the poet seems to be signifying that through meditation (the “sitting” of the title is a conventional metonymy for meditation) he has been able to become one with the mountain.
LI BAI
On the Road: To a Beauty
White steed, haughty, treads the fallen flowers.
My pendant whip, brushed her Five-cloud carriage.
She smiled, and raised pearled curtain.
Pointed out the bright red hall, “My home,” she said.
LI BAI
Night Thoughts
Before the bed, bright moonlight.
I took it for frost on the ground.
Raised my head to gaze upon bright moon.
Bowed my head, and thought of home.
LI BAI
Brave man of Yan-nan
Brave man of Yan-nan, hero of Wu.
Lead-loaded lute, a dagger from a fish.
A lord’s beneficence requited with a life.
With a single gesture: Mount Tai, become mere goosedown.
* * *
The poet evokes here the figure of the “knights errant” (xia-ke) of the Warring States period, who often took service with a feudal lord whom they esteemed, for the purpose of righting wrongs or assassinating a tyrant. Li Bai himself practiced the art of the sword and cultivated the chivalric spirit.
Line 2, “lead-loaded lute”: Gao Jian-li (end of 3rd c. B.C.), a celebrated lute-player of the kingdom of Yan, after having had his eyes torn out by the king of Qin tried to assassinate him during a concert by throwing his lead-loaded lute at his head. “Dagger from a fish”: Zhuan Zhu, from the kingdom of Wu, assassinated a despotic prince during a banquet, hiding his dagger in the belly of a fish that he had brought to the table.
Line 4: Si-ma Qian, the great Han historian, had said, “The death of a man can be weighty as Mount Tai or as light as goosedown.”
LI BAI
Jade Stairs Lament
Jade steps draw white dew,
Late night wrecks silk hose.
Quartz bead curtain closed,
Fall moonspangled view.
* * *
Translated by Frank Newton. See this page–this page for an analysis of this poem.
LI BAI
Song of Lake Qiu-bu
White hair, three thousand yards.
A sadness, a sorrow, as long.
Whence, to my bright mirror come,
This autumn frost?
LI BAI
Summit Temple
This night, in Summit Temple,
Raise my hand, touch stars.
Don’t dare to raise my voice,
For fear I’d wake them, up in heaven.
LI BAI
Ballad of the Voyager
Sea voyager, on heaven’s winds,
In his ship, far wandering.
Like a bird, among the clouds,
Gone, he’ll leave no trace.
Du Fu
From Admiring, Alone, the Flowers on the Riverbank
By the river, by the flowers, endlessly confounded.
None to confide in, I’ll just go mad.
I go in search of my southern neighbor, companion in wine;
He’s been out drinking a full ten days: his bed is empty.
* * *
For Du Fu, who composed relatively few quatrains, we have chosen only two, from a set of seven that the poet wrote at Cheng-du in Si-chuan (western China), where, after a life of torment and travel, he established himself for several years. Into old age the fascination of springtime continued to hold sway over him. In an easy, graceful tone, sometimes even humorously, he sings the joy of a certain rediscovered youth.
Du Fu
From Admiring, Alone, the Flowers on the Riverbank
It’s not I love these flowers more than life,
Only, when they’re gone, life too may flee.
Full branch; so easily its petals fall.
Take counsel, tender buds, to part more carefully.
* * *
In the last two lines of the poem the poet treats of his concern for his own creation. Here, he tries to free himself of the “overburdening” torments (“full branch”) and to attain a greater simplicity in the use of the language (the buds that open carefully).
XUAN JUE
Canticle of the Way (1)
Roar of the Lion Voice beyond fear.
When the beasts hear they shiver.
Even the elephant flees in awe.
Only the Heavenly Dragon knows to delight.
* * *
From the very rich collection of Buddhist chants, only four quatrains are presented here. They are all taken from the Yongjia zhengdao ge of Xuan Jue, a monk of the eighth century (Tang).
XUAN JUE
Canticle of the Way (2)
Heart’s mirror clear Reflects beyond fetter.
The void stripped clean, innumerable worlds.
Chinese Poetic Writing Page 14
