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larryhammerNew Songs from the Jade Terrace is an anthology of “palace-style” poems focused on erotic topics. Its history is obscure, but it was probably originally compiled in the mid 6th century, using poems mostly from the Southern Dynasties period (420-588) but including both northern and older works, including a few from the Han Dynasty. All of which means in tone and topic, it’s rather different from Tang Dynasty verse, and even more so from the biased (read: moralizing) selection of 300 Tang Poems made a thousand years later.
Below are translations of five poems, three by women, one in a female persona, and one of ambiguous gender, all chosen at random as I scanned through the collection. Because the poems aren’t numbered, I link to each base text. Per my current SOP, I still fail to reproduce rhyme (ah well).
As always, suggestions/discussions/corrections are welcome.
Singing, Evening, in the Women’s Quarters; or, Three More Rhymes, Xiao Gang
Her pearl curtain’s lowered against the evening—
Her bewitching beauty cannot be pursued.
In darkness I’m aware of a flowered wind—
Within her netting darts an orchid candle.
When will she sit within her jade window?
Night after night, once more mending clothes.
咏晚闺 (又三韵)
珠帘向暮下，
妖姿不可追。
花风暗里觉，
兰烛帐中飞。
何时玉窗里，
夜夜更缝衣。
Different texts have alternate titles. The net is specifically mosquito netting. (Source, alternate) (Edited 20 Sep '22: revised translation)
A Modern Miscellaneous Poem
A bracelet of pure jade, unblemished hue—
My jacket’s light, it seems my wrist’s exposed.
I raise my sleeve, wanting to block my shame:
I re-conceal it, and tidy my wild hair.
近代雜詩一首
玉釧色未分，
衫輕似露腕。
舉袖欲障羞，
回持理發亂。
“Modern” in this case seems to mean composed within a generation or so when the anthology was compiled, which was probably in the 530s. Apparently the speaker-with-implied-pronouns is worried a costly gift from a secret lover will be seen, so hides it again under their sleeve then covers up their action by tidying their hair. (There are some homoerotic poems in the anthology and gay male relationships were A Thing among the aristocracy of the time, so absent a clear marker we can’t assume anything about the speaker’s gender.) “Disordered” might be a better translation than “wild” —or to go full-on interpretive, “windblown.” (Source)
(This is the first of three in a row from the collection.)
A Song of Meng Zhu of Danyang
Spring sun’s been wanton for a couple months—
Both grasses and the waters show it’s so.
Upon the way I met a scrumptious youth,
And now regret we hadn’t met before.
丹阳孟珠歌一首
阳春二三月，
草与水同色。
道逢游冶郎，
恨不早相识。
Not much is known about Meng Zhu: she was a singer, lived sometime between the 3rd through 6th centuries, and has 10 lyrics attributed to her in surviving anthologies. Danyang is in modern Zhenjiang, on the south bank of the Yangzi a little downstream of Nanjing. “Wanton” double-translates a secondary sense of 春 (chūn), whose base meaning is “spring.” (Source)
A Song of Su Xiao of Qiantang
This one rode a painted carriage,
A youth rode a fresh buckskin horse.
“Where are you from—we’re so like-minded!”
“Xiling, beneath the pines and cedars.”
钱唐苏小歌一首
妾乘油壁车，
郎骑青骢马。
何处结同心，
西陵松柏下。
Su Xiaoxiao (as she’s usually known) was a famous singer and courtesan who lived from 479-c.502. Qiantang here is an alternate name for Hangzhou, a city a little south of modern Shanghai; her tomb still exists today near one of the bridges on West Lake. Her lyrics were admired and name-checked by several later poets, including Bai Juyi and Li He.
The speaker uses the humble pronoun used by women, rendered as “this one”. Untranslatable wordplays: 青 (qīng), here rendered as “fresh,” can also mean “natural colored,” in contrast to the paint on the carriage; and echoing that, “pines and cedars” (松柏: sōngbǎi) also has the figurative meaning of “chaste.” Put all those together, and we’ve got an experienced courtesan accosting an inexperienced youth. (As for the color of his horse, buckskin, I’ve no idea if there are cultural connotations.) FWIW, Xiling is the lowermost of the Three Gorges of the Yangzi, way upstream of the singer’s home. (Source)
A Poem Bao Linghui Sent to a Traveler
The cassia bursts forth two or three new branches,
The orchid opens four or five new petals.
It’s time—and yet my lord has not returned:
Spring wind’s disciples are laughing at this one.
鲍令晖寄行人一首
桂吐两三枝，
兰开四五叶。
是时君不归，
春风徒笑妾。
Bao Linghui, younger sister of renowned poet Bao Zhao, flourished around 464. The speaker again uses the humble pronoun used by women. The secondary sense of spring mentioned above is probably relevant here. (Source)
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
Below are translations of five poems, three by women, one in a female persona, and one of ambiguous gender, all chosen at random as I scanned through the collection. Because the poems aren’t numbered, I link to each base text. Per my current SOP, I still fail to reproduce rhyme (ah well).
As always, suggestions/discussions/corrections are welcome.
Singing, Evening, in the Women’s Quarters; or, Three More Rhymes, Xiao Gang
Her pearl curtain’s lowered against the evening—
Her bewitching beauty cannot be pursued.
In darkness I’m aware of a flowered wind—
Within her netting darts an orchid candle.
When will she sit within her jade window?
Night after night, once more mending clothes.
咏晚闺 (又三韵)
珠帘向暮下，
妖姿不可追。
花风暗里觉，
兰烛帐中飞。
何时玉窗里，
夜夜更缝衣。
Different texts have alternate titles. The net is specifically mosquito netting. (Source, alternate) (Edited 20 Sep '22: revised translation)
A Modern Miscellaneous Poem
A bracelet of pure jade, unblemished hue—
My jacket’s light, it seems my wrist’s exposed.
I raise my sleeve, wanting to block my shame:
I re-conceal it, and tidy my wild hair.
近代雜詩一首
玉釧色未分，
衫輕似露腕。
舉袖欲障羞，
回持理發亂。
“Modern” in this case seems to mean composed within a generation or so when the anthology was compiled, which was probably in the 530s. Apparently the speaker-with-implied-pronouns is worried a costly gift from a secret lover will be seen, so hides it again under their sleeve then covers up their action by tidying their hair. (There are some homoerotic poems in the anthology and gay male relationships were A Thing among the aristocracy of the time, so absent a clear marker we can’t assume anything about the speaker’s gender.) “Disordered” might be a better translation than “wild” —or to go full-on interpretive, “windblown.” (Source)
(This is the first of three in a row from the collection.)
A Song of Meng Zhu of Danyang
Spring sun’s been wanton for a couple months—
Both grasses and the waters show it’s so.
Upon the way I met a scrumptious youth,
And now regret we hadn’t met before.
丹阳孟珠歌一首
阳春二三月，
草与水同色。
道逢游冶郎，
恨不早相识。
Not much is known about Meng Zhu: she was a singer, lived sometime between the 3rd through 6th centuries, and has 10 lyrics attributed to her in surviving anthologies. Danyang is in modern Zhenjiang, on the south bank of the Yangzi a little downstream of Nanjing. “Wanton” double-translates a secondary sense of 春 (chūn), whose base meaning is “spring.” (Source)
A Song of Su Xiao of Qiantang
This one rode a painted carriage,
A youth rode a fresh buckskin horse.
“Where are you from—we’re so like-minded!”
“Xiling, beneath the pines and cedars.”
钱唐苏小歌一首
妾乘油壁车，
郎骑青骢马。
何处结同心，
西陵松柏下。
Su Xiaoxiao (as she’s usually known) was a famous singer and courtesan who lived from 479-c.502. Qiantang here is an alternate name for Hangzhou, a city a little south of modern Shanghai; her tomb still exists today near one of the bridges on West Lake. Her lyrics were admired and name-checked by several later poets, including Bai Juyi and Li He.
The speaker uses the humble pronoun used by women, rendered as “this one”. Untranslatable wordplays: 青 (qīng), here rendered as “fresh,” can also mean “natural colored,” in contrast to the paint on the carriage; and echoing that, “pines and cedars” (松柏: sōngbǎi) also has the figurative meaning of “chaste.” Put all those together, and we’ve got an experienced courtesan accosting an inexperienced youth. (As for the color of his horse, buckskin, I’ve no idea if there are cultural connotations.) FWIW, Xiling is the lowermost of the Three Gorges of the Yangzi, way upstream of the singer’s home. (Source)
A Poem Bao Linghui Sent to a Traveler
The cassia bursts forth two or three new branches,
The orchid opens four or five new petals.
It’s time—and yet my lord has not returned:
Spring wind’s disciples are laughing at this one.
鲍令晖寄行人一首
桂吐两三枝，
兰开四五叶。
是时君不归，
春风徒笑妾。
Bao Linghui, younger sister of renowned poet Bao Zhao, flourished around 464. The speaker again uses the humble pronoun used by women. The secondary sense of spring mentioned above is probably relevant here. (Source)
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
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Date: 23 August 2019 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 23 August 2019 09:21 pm (UTC)