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larryhammerFor Poetry Monday, another scroll of translations: 30 poems from the first half of part 8, revised from initial drafts posted here. These are regulated quatrains like part 7 but with 7-character lines instead of 5. Sometimes this extra space is used to loosen up the lines and allow the poet to get almost discursive, sometimes it’s used to pack all the more material into the small space. As a result, while most translations use 6-beat lines, some have 5 and some 7. Not ideal, but it’s what I’ve managed. I’d rather compress as much as possible while still conveying the basic meaning and equivalent tone, than pad out lines to make all poems the same meter. The compression, in these poems, feels like a key component.
So to be explicit again: my translation priorities have been rendering the literal sense, matching rhetorical structures and tone, emotional tenor, and compression, while using as close to regular English meter as I can manage without doing violence to those first few. Where easy to do without departing “too far” from the original, I sometimes incorporate glosses into the translation, but otherwise save explanations for the endnote. At this point, however, I’ve given up on rhyme—at least for now: with more experience in judging what to balance, maybe I’ll revise a few of these into rhymes that match the original form.
As always, suggestions/discussions/corrections are welcome.
261. Incidental Letter on Returning Home, He Zhizhang
When young I left my home, an elder I return.
My accent hasn’t changed, my temple hair is sparse.
The children come to see, but since I am unknown,
They laugh and ask, “Hey, stranger, where do you come from?”
回乡偶书
少小离家老大回，
乡音无改鬓毛衰；
儿童相见不相识，
笑问客从何处来。
He Zhizhang left his hometown as a student preparing for the imperial exams and didn’t return till after his retirement at 80.
262. Peach-Blossom Stream, Zhang Xu
A dim flying bridge parts the broken mist—
From a west-bank rock, I seek a fishing boat.
All day, peach blossoms flow upon the waters:
On which side of the clear stream is the cave?
桃花溪
隐隐飞桥隔野烟，
石矶西畔问渔船；
桃花尽日随流水，
洞在清谿何处边？
The cave being the entrance to Peach-Blossom Land (see #229) that the speaker is supposing the fallen flowers are from. The easiest literal sense is that the last two lines are the speaker’s question to a fishing boat, but this exaggerates the artificial pose in ways that feel out of place in a Tang poem (a Six Dynasties poem, sure, but that manner fell out of fashion over a century before this was written). As it is, wanting a fisherman to complete the legendary scene is still a bit precious. The flying bridge seems to be one of those high semicircle-arch ones, but some commentaries understand (via the allusion to the legend) the setting is a mountain gorge, which would make it a bridge high up the walls.
263. Thinking of My Brothers East of the Mountain on the Double Ninth Festival, Wang Wei
Alone, a stranger staying in this strangers’ land,
Come festival time I think of my family all the more.
Though far, I know my brothers all ascend that height,
All put on now their flowers—lacking just one person.
九月九日忆山东兄弟
独在异乡为异客，
每逢佳节倍思亲。
遥知兄弟登高处，
遍插茱萸少一人。
Written at 17 when he was traveling, in a town on the western foothills of Mt. Hua in Shaanxi, while his brothers were in Chang’an, well to its east. The festival held on the 9th day of the 9th (lunar) month was related to longevity; climbing a local peak and wearing certain propitious flowers were common observances. Both of the first two lines have become proverbial, the first as an idiom equivalent to “a stranger in a strange land.”
264. Seeing Off Xin Jian at Hibiscus Tower, Wang Changling
The cold rain merges with the river; night comes to Wu.
At dawn, I’ll see a guest across Chu’s mountains alone.
Should friends and family in Luoyang ask about me,
My heart’s as pure as a flake of ice in a jade-white flask.
芙蓉楼送辛渐
寒雨连江夜入吴，
平明送客楚山孤。
洛阳亲友如相问，
一片冰心在玉壶。
Wu is the Yangzi delta region, Chu is upstream straddling the lower Yangzi, and his friend will be crossing the mountains between the Yangzi and Yellow rivers to Luoyang. “As pure as” double translates the idiom “one-flake-of-ice heart” (一片冰心: yīpiàn bīng xīn), meaning “pure of heart/having integrity.”
265. Women’s Quarters Complaint, Wang Changling
Within her quarters, a young bride knows no worries.
One spring day, I dress and climb the emerald tower—
Then catch sight of the forms of roadside willows
And regret I asked him to seek out fame and glory.
闺怨
闺中少妇不知愁，
春日凝妆上翠楼。
忽见陌头杨柳色，
悔教夫婿觅封侯。
Willows were associated with parting: a branch was often given as part of seeing someone off on a journey. Literally, she asked “[my] husband to seek appointment as a marquis,” the means for which is military heroics.
266. Spring Palace Song, Wang Changling
Last night, the breeze revealed peach blossoms by the well;
Before the Weiyang Palace, the full moon was high.
A Pingyang song and dance, and she received new favor;
Spring chill’s outside his screen—he bestowed a brocade robe.
春宫曲
昨夜风开露井桃，
未央前殿月轮高。
平阳歌舞新承宠，
帘外春寒赐锦袍。
The Spring Palace was the Crown Prince’s residence. This uses an incident of the life of the Han Emperor Wu, in which a singer became an imperial concubine and eventually displaced the Weiyang Empress, to indirectly criticize the Tang Emperor Xuanzong’s similar elevation of Yang Yuhuan (of whom, more to come). The historical singer was in the household of Wu’s daughter, the Pingyang Princess, in loose parallel to Yang Yuhuan being Xuanzong’s son’s wife.
267. Liangzhou Lyric, Wang Han
A fine grape wine inside a glowing cup of jade—
I want a drink and pipa song before I mount.
Don’t laugh if I drop drunk upon the battlefield—
Since days of yore, how many men return from war?
凉州词
葡萄美酒夜光杯，
欲饮琵琶马上催。
醉卧沙场君莫笑，
古来征战几人回。
Liangzhou is in central Gansu, on the Silk Road route past the Gobi Desert via the recently re-annexed Hexi Corridor—and this is a frontier soldier song. The title calls this a ci, which later was a specific form of song lyric, but since it was initially adapted from Central Asia it here seems to generically gesture towards the exoctic locale. The grape wine is also exotic, being all but unknown in the core empire. The pipa is a lute-like instrument. Lost in translation: the speaker mounts in a hurry.
268. Seeing Off Meng Haoran When He Left for Guangling, Li Bai
My old friend leaves the west and Yellow Crane Pagoda
In late spring’s mists and flowers, descending to Yangzhou.
A lone sail’s distant shadow fades into clear sky—
I only see the Yangzi flow to the horizon.
送孟浩然之广陵
故人西辞黄鹤楼，
烟花三月下扬州。
孤帆远影碧空尽，
惟见长江天际流。
Yellow Crane Pagoda was a famous tower in Wuhan overlooking the river. Guangling district in Yangzhou is five-hundred-plus miles east down the Yangzi, near modern Nanjing.
269. Descending to Jiangling; or, Setting Off from Baidi Town in the Morning, Li Bai
I left Baidi at dawn through parted rosy clouds.
A thousand li to Jiangling, returning in one day:
While apes upon both banks howl on unceasingly,
My skiff’s already passed ten thousand piled-up mountains.
下江陵 (早发白帝城)
朝辞白帝彩云间，
千里江陵一日还。
两岸猿声啼不住，
轻舟已过万重山。
My base text has the first title, but this is better known by the second. As Li Bai was traveling into exile in the deep south, a rescinding order caught up with him in Baidi at the top end of Qutang, the uppermost of the Three Gorges of the Yangzi—thus the “return.” Jiangling is modern Jingzhou, somewhat downstream from the mouth of the lowest gorge—about 1200 li by river, as it turns out.
270. Meeting by Chance an Envoy Returning to the Capital, Cen Shen
I gaze east at my hometown down the long, long road;
My two sleeves are decrepit, my tears have not yet dried.
We suddenly meet by chance, but I’ve no brush nor paper:
I’ll have to ask you to report, “He’s safe and sound.”
逢入京使
故园东望路漫漫，
双袖龙钟泪不干。
马上相逢无纸笔，
凭君传语报平安。
The poet was traveling for the first time away from his home in Chang’an, heading to a frontier military posting at Jade Gate Pass (see #277) in what’s now the far western end of Gansu Province.
271. Meeting by Chance Li Guinian South of the Yangzi, Du Fu
I found you often inside Prince Qi’s residence
And heard you many times in front of Cui Nine’s hall.
Truly the landscape is exquisite, south of the river:
I meet you once more in the season of falling flowers.
江南逢李龟年
岐王宅里寻常见，
崔九堂前几度闻。
正是江南好风景，
落花时节又逢君。
Written during the chaos after the An Lushan Rebellion when Du Fu was knocking about Hunan unemployed and penniless. Li Guinian was a musician who’d enjoyed imperial patronage, thus his knocking about in high places when times were good. The season of falling flowers is, of course, both literal time of year and the general period.
(This is not the same Cui Nine as #229: this one was a high-ranking minister named Cui Di. The number indicates he was the 9th male child in his generation of the family.)
272. Chuzhou West Brook, Wei Yingwu
I much prefer this sheltered grass beside the brook.
Above, an oriole sings from a shadowed tree.
The spring tide brings on rain—evening comes apace.
Out in the open, an unmanned ferry drifts across.
滁州西涧
独怜幽草涧边生，
上有黄鹂深树鸣。
春潮带雨晚来急，
野渡无人舟自横。
Chuzhou is a little north of the lower Yangzi, west of Nanjing. The ferry is for crossing a nearby lake. That’s “spring” as season and “tide” as in sea-tide, and not springtime nor extra-high tide.
273. Night Mooring at Maple Bridge, Zhang Ji of Hubei
At moonset, cawing crows and frost all over the sky.
By river maples, fishing lights cause anxious sleep.
Outside the walls of Gusu, from Cold Mountain Temple,
The tolling of the midnight bell reaches my boat.
枫桥夜泊
月落乌啼霜满天，
江枫渔火对愁眠。
姑苏城外寒山寺，
夜半钟声到客船。
Gusu is modern Suzhou, a little west of Shanghai in the Yangzi delta. The boat lights cause anxiety because Japanese pirates had recently raided in the area. (The author credit is given thus because he’s one of two Zhang Jis in the collection, though this one’s the only Zhāng Jì.)
274. Cold Food Day, Han Hong
A city spring: there’s nowhere without flowers flying;
Cold Food Day: east winds blow court willow branches askew.
At dusk, the great Han palace passes out lit candles—
Light smoke disperses, entering five noble houses.
寒食
春城无处不飞花，
寒食东风御柳斜。
日暮汉宫传蜡烛，
轻烟散入五侯家。
In Tang observances, the day before the early April* Qingming (Tomb-Sweeping) Festival was Cold Food Day: all fires were put out and everyone ate cold food. Decorations included willows branches for the departed, placed over doorways—the ones here are inside the imperial palace. When the observance was over, a fire was kindled in the palace or a local lord’s manor and propagated to other households by candles or lanterns.
So with that unpacked, there’s an another layer: the poem refers to an incident during the eastern Han Dynasty when five palace eunuchs were ennobled on the same day, by way of safely satirizing contemporary corruption. (This is a similar use of history as #266.)
Even aside from all the glossing needed, the language is especially compressed in this one.
* Not a typo: Qingming has always been tied to the solar astronomical calendar, not the traditional lunar one. Because Gregorian wobbles a little against the solar year (that’s why we have leap years) it falls on either April 4 or 5.
275. Moonlit Night, Liu Fangping
The late-night moonlight shines on only half the courtyard—
Big Dipper is oblique, South Dipper’s slanting down.
I suddenly know tonight the spring air’s warming up:
The sound of insects now comes through the window screen.
月夜
更深月色半人家，
北斗阑干南斗斜。
今夜偏知春气暖，
虫声新透绿窗沙。
Half the courtyard (literally “household”) because the moon is low behind the walls. The Southern Dipper is a Chinese constellation roughly corresponding to Sagittarius, which makes it a winter sky thing, now setting. Lost in translation: the screen is green.
276. A Spring Complaint, Liu Fangping
The sun in the window screen is slowly dipping to dusk;
In this golden mansion, no one sees my tears.
In the lonely empty courtyard, spring’s about to pass—
Pear blossoms cover the ground, but the door doesn’t open.
春怨
纱窗日落渐黄昏，
金屋无人见泪痕。
寂寞空庭春欲晚，
梨花满地不开门。
The golden mansion suggests an imperial concubine now out of favor, if not outright disgrace.
277. A Soldier’s Complaint, Liu Zhongyong
Year after year, Gold River’s just like Jade Gate Pass.
Day after day, we use our horse whips and sword rings.
It’s late spring, but white snow returns to the Green Tomb.
The Yellow River endlessly winds around Black Mountain.
征人怨
岁岁金河复玉关，
朝朝马策与刀环。
三春白雪归青冢，
万里黄河绕黑山。
Jade Gate Pass was where the Silk Road passed through a fortification in the Great Wall, near what’s now the west end of Gansu. Gold River is in what’s now Huhhot, Inner Mongolia, also a frontier posting. The tomb is supposedly that of Wang Zhaojun, a legendary beauty of the 1st century BCE, a little south of Huhhot, and Black Mountain is nearby, just off the Ordos Loop of the Yellow River. Sword rings are loose brass loops through the end of the pommel—the details of that line add up to “we see battle daily.”
278. A Palace Song, Gu Kuang
In the jade tower halfway to heaven, song and dance begin—
Wind brings the harmonious laughter and chatter of palace concubines.
The Moon Hall’s shadows shift; I hear the nighttime water clock;
I roll up the crystal curtain, and draw near the Autumn River.
宫词
玉楼天半起笙歌，
风送宫嫔笑语和。
月殿影开闻夜漏，
水晶帘卷近秋河。
The Moon Hall is the palace of Chang’e, goddess of the moon. The Autumn River is the Milky Way, which becomes prominent in the early night sky in autumn. I like the intricate parallels of mundane and celestial details.
279. Hearing a Flute as it Gets Dark in Shouxiang City, Li Yi
In front of Huile Peak, the sand seems snow;
Outside Shouxiang, the moonlight looks like frost.
I don’t know where the reed pipe’s being blown,
But soldiers gaze all night at far-off homes.
夜上受降城闻笛
回乐峰前沙似雪，
受降城外月如霜。
不知何处吹芦管，
一夜征人尽望乡。
Shouxiang and Huile are near the border of Ningxia and Inner Mongolia—so another frontier post. Interestingly, the poet doesn’t include himself as one of the homesick soldiers, although he did indeed serve here as part of his military career.
280. Black Clothes Lane, Liu Yuxi
Weeds blossom beside Vermilion Bird Bridge,
Sunset dims the mouth of Black Clothes Lane.
The swallows of yore on the halls of Wang and Xie
Now fly among the common people’s houses.
乌衣巷
朱雀桥边野草花，
乌衣巷口夕阳斜。
旧时王谢堂前燕，
飞入寻常百姓家。
Black Clothes Lane (so-called because during the Three Kingdoms period, black-uniformed soldiers were garrisoned there) was near Vermilion Bird Bridge in what’s now Nanjing. During the Eastern Jin Dynasty, it became an aristocratic district, including the households of revered statesmen Wang Dao and Xie An. Despite its dilapidation during Tang times and later, it still exists. The last two lines have become a famous quotation.
281. Spring Song, Liu Yuxi
Fresh makeup’s good—descend the scarlet tower:
Spring glory’s locked up tight in a yard of sorrow.
Reaching the central courtyard, I count the flowers.
A dragonfly flies up to my jade hairpin.
春词
新妆宜面下朱楼，
深锁春光一院愁。
行到中庭数花朵，
蜻蜓飞上玉搔头。
So much between the lines in this one. The speaker is a woman in a high-status household, either a mistress/young miss or a serving maid (commentaries are divided here). The sorrow is hers, understood from context and convention as from some disappointment in love. The dragonfly landing implies standing still for some time, lost in thought (or maybe wallowing).
282. Rear Palace Lyric, Bai Juyi
My silk kerchief is wet with tears—sweet dreams elude me.
The front hall, late at night, they’re beating time for songs.
Though my rose cheeks aren’t old, imperial favor stopped.
I lean upon the incense frame and sit till dawn.
后宫词
泪湿罗巾梦不成，
夜深前殿按歌声。
红颜未老恩先断，
斜倚薰笼坐到明。
The rear palace is the quarters of the imperial harem, and the speaker is a concubine. The frame is one used to hold clothes over an incense burner to perfume them. (This is both more direct and less moving than the previous.)
283. To a Palace Servant, Zhang Hu
The moon has marked the trees of the Forbidden Palace—
Your charming eyes see only a roosting heron’s nest.
In the lamplight’s shadow, you pull out your jade hairpin
And prick away the red flame to save a moth.
赠内人
禁门宫树月痕过，
媚眼惟看宿鹭窠。
斜拔玉钗灯影畔，
剔开红焰救飞蛾。
Usually pronounless poems are easiest read as first person, but that doesn’t work with how the eyes are described. In the last line, if it’s not clear, she’s adjusting the lamp-wick.
284. Gathered Spirits Terrace 1, Zhang Hu
The sunlight slants through Gathered Spirits Terrace,
The trees bloom red at dawn to greet the dew.
Last night, Xuanzong bestowed a Daoist title:
Great Purity, smiling, went behind his screen.
集灵台之一
日光斜照集灵台，
红树花迎晓露开。
昨夜上皇新授箓，
太真含笑入帘来。
Yang Yuhuan Guifei appears again, but this time the satire is more direct. Great Purity was her Daoist name during her brief stint as a nun, a dispensation secretly bestowed by Emperor Xuanzong as a way of unimpeachably dissolving her marriage to his son, prior to taking her as his own concubine a few days after.
The Terrace of Gathered Spirits was a hall within Huaqing Palace (an imperial pleasure palace at a hot spring southeast of Chang’an) used for rites praying for longevity for the emperor—thus its association with a Daoist investiture.
285. Gathered Spirits Terrace 2, Zhang Hu
The Lady of Guo was granted great imperial favor:
At dawn she rides her horse into the palace gate.
Because she hates cosmetics for sullying her face,
She merely brushes her brows before her audience.
集灵台之二
虢国夫人承主恩，
平明骑马入宫门。
却嫌脂粉污颜色，
淡扫蛾眉朝至尊。
Lady of Guo was a title given to one of Yang Yuhuan’s older sisters (her other two sisters were also titled). Avoiding makeup was apparently considered an affectation to mock. Lost in translation: the brows are “moth eyebrows,” and the audience is specifically with “his majesty.”
286. Inscribed at the Jinling Ferry Crossing, Zhang Hu
Jinling ferry crossing, the hill-top tower—
A one-night lodger would of course be anxious.
Tide falls, night river in the setting moon—
Those two or three star-sparks are just Guazhou.
题金陵渡
金陵津渡小山楼，
一宿行人自可愁。
潮落夜江斜月里，
两三星火是瓜州。
Jinling is modern Zhenjiang, a little downstream of Nanjing, and Guazhou is across the Yangzi, on the north bank—in the original, they face across the poem as the first and last words.
287. Palace Lyric, Zhu Qingyu
Lonely and hushed in flower season, the courtyard gate is closed.
Beautiful women side by side stand on the fine veranda.
They want to speak their inner feelings about these palace matters,
But here before a parrot they don’t dare say a word.
宫词
寂寂花时闭院门，
美人相并立琼轩。
含情欲说宫中事，
鹦鹉前头不敢言。
In case you were wondering about the stifling atmosphere of historical dramas set in the women’s quarters, some contemporary evidence.
288. Submitted Just Before the Examinations to Zhang of the Water Bureau, Zhu Qingyu
Last night in the bridal chamber, she set red candles out;
She waits to bow to his parents before their hall at dawn.
Makeup applied, in a low voice she asks her husband,
“How thick my brows are blackened—suitable or no?”
近试上张水部
洞房昨夜停红烛，
待晓堂前拜舅姑。
妆罢低声问夫婿，
画眉深浅入时无。
The Zhang is older poet Zhang Ji of Jiangnan (not the Zhang Ji of Hubei from #273), and the poem was submitted for a critique. Red candles were lit on birthdays and other auspicious celebrations. The final question from the bride also stands in for the student asking, Is my style suitable for the exams or no?
289. About to Depart for Wuxing, I Ascend Leyou Plain, Du Mu
In peaceful times, I have the interest but not ability:
Leisure love I, a lonely cloud—stillness love I, a monk.
I’m about to hold a magistrate’s banner, bound for river and sea:
I head up Leyou Plain and gaze on Taizong’s mausoleum.
将赴吴兴登乐游原
清时有味是无能，
闲爱孤云静爱僧。
欲把一麾江海去，
乐游原上望昭陵。
Wuxing is the central historical district of modern Huzhou in the Yangzi delta, just south of Shanghai. Same Leyou Plain as in #248. The tomb of the revered second Tang Emperor, Taizong, whose campaigns reunified and expanded the empire, was on a nearby mountain. Inversions in the second line reproduce inversions in the original.
290. Red Cliff, Du Mu
A broken halberd sunk in sand, the iron not yet rusted:
I rub and scrub and see it’s from a prior dynasty.
If east winds hadn’t blown conveniently for Master Zhou,
Come spring Bronze Sparrow would have locked away the two Qiao sisters.
赤壁
折戟沈沙铁未销，
自将磨洗认前朝。
东风不与周郎便，
铜雀春深锁二乔。
Red Cliff on the south bank of the middle Yangzi was the site of a 208 battle at the end of the Han Dynasty that set the stage for the Three Kingdoms era. Zhao Yu, married to one of the two beautiful Qiao sisters, was a general opposing Cao Cao, who was notorious for keeping a large harem in Bronze Sparrow Terrace. The wind was used to blow fire ships into Cao Cao’s fleet.
And so onwards to the second half of the part.
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
So to be explicit again: my translation priorities have been rendering the literal sense, matching rhetorical structures and tone, emotional tenor, and compression, while using as close to regular English meter as I can manage without doing violence to those first few. Where easy to do without departing “too far” from the original, I sometimes incorporate glosses into the translation, but otherwise save explanations for the endnote. At this point, however, I’ve given up on rhyme—at least for now: with more experience in judging what to balance, maybe I’ll revise a few of these into rhymes that match the original form.
As always, suggestions/discussions/corrections are welcome.
261. Incidental Letter on Returning Home, He Zhizhang
When young I left my home, an elder I return.
My accent hasn’t changed, my temple hair is sparse.
The children come to see, but since I am unknown,
They laugh and ask, “Hey, stranger, where do you come from?”
回乡偶书
少小离家老大回，
乡音无改鬓毛衰；
儿童相见不相识，
笑问客从何处来。
He Zhizhang left his hometown as a student preparing for the imperial exams and didn’t return till after his retirement at 80.
262. Peach-Blossom Stream, Zhang Xu
A dim flying bridge parts the broken mist—
From a west-bank rock, I seek a fishing boat.
All day, peach blossoms flow upon the waters:
On which side of the clear stream is the cave?
桃花溪
隐隐飞桥隔野烟，
石矶西畔问渔船；
桃花尽日随流水，
洞在清谿何处边？
The cave being the entrance to Peach-Blossom Land (see #229) that the speaker is supposing the fallen flowers are from. The easiest literal sense is that the last two lines are the speaker’s question to a fishing boat, but this exaggerates the artificial pose in ways that feel out of place in a Tang poem (a Six Dynasties poem, sure, but that manner fell out of fashion over a century before this was written). As it is, wanting a fisherman to complete the legendary scene is still a bit precious. The flying bridge seems to be one of those high semicircle-arch ones, but some commentaries understand (via the allusion to the legend) the setting is a mountain gorge, which would make it a bridge high up the walls.
263. Thinking of My Brothers East of the Mountain on the Double Ninth Festival, Wang Wei
Alone, a stranger staying in this strangers’ land,
Come festival time I think of my family all the more.
Though far, I know my brothers all ascend that height,
All put on now their flowers—lacking just one person.
九月九日忆山东兄弟
独在异乡为异客，
每逢佳节倍思亲。
遥知兄弟登高处，
遍插茱萸少一人。
Written at 17 when he was traveling, in a town on the western foothills of Mt. Hua in Shaanxi, while his brothers were in Chang’an, well to its east. The festival held on the 9th day of the 9th (lunar) month was related to longevity; climbing a local peak and wearing certain propitious flowers were common observances. Both of the first two lines have become proverbial, the first as an idiom equivalent to “a stranger in a strange land.”
264. Seeing Off Xin Jian at Hibiscus Tower, Wang Changling
The cold rain merges with the river; night comes to Wu.
At dawn, I’ll see a guest across Chu’s mountains alone.
Should friends and family in Luoyang ask about me,
My heart’s as pure as a flake of ice in a jade-white flask.
芙蓉楼送辛渐
寒雨连江夜入吴，
平明送客楚山孤。
洛阳亲友如相问，
一片冰心在玉壶。
Wu is the Yangzi delta region, Chu is upstream straddling the lower Yangzi, and his friend will be crossing the mountains between the Yangzi and Yellow rivers to Luoyang. “As pure as” double translates the idiom “one-flake-of-ice heart” (一片冰心: yīpiàn bīng xīn), meaning “pure of heart/having integrity.”
265. Women’s Quarters Complaint, Wang Changling
Within her quarters, a young bride knows no worries.
One spring day, I dress and climb the emerald tower—
Then catch sight of the forms of roadside willows
And regret I asked him to seek out fame and glory.
闺怨
闺中少妇不知愁，
春日凝妆上翠楼。
忽见陌头杨柳色，
悔教夫婿觅封侯。
Willows were associated with parting: a branch was often given as part of seeing someone off on a journey. Literally, she asked “[my] husband to seek appointment as a marquis,” the means for which is military heroics.
266. Spring Palace Song, Wang Changling
Last night, the breeze revealed peach blossoms by the well;
Before the Weiyang Palace, the full moon was high.
A Pingyang song and dance, and she received new favor;
Spring chill’s outside his screen—he bestowed a brocade robe.
春宫曲
昨夜风开露井桃，
未央前殿月轮高。
平阳歌舞新承宠，
帘外春寒赐锦袍。
The Spring Palace was the Crown Prince’s residence. This uses an incident of the life of the Han Emperor Wu, in which a singer became an imperial concubine and eventually displaced the Weiyang Empress, to indirectly criticize the Tang Emperor Xuanzong’s similar elevation of Yang Yuhuan (of whom, more to come). The historical singer was in the household of Wu’s daughter, the Pingyang Princess, in loose parallel to Yang Yuhuan being Xuanzong’s son’s wife.
267. Liangzhou Lyric, Wang Han
A fine grape wine inside a glowing cup of jade—
I want a drink and pipa song before I mount.
Don’t laugh if I drop drunk upon the battlefield—
Since days of yore, how many men return from war?
凉州词
葡萄美酒夜光杯，
欲饮琵琶马上催。
醉卧沙场君莫笑，
古来征战几人回。
Liangzhou is in central Gansu, on the Silk Road route past the Gobi Desert via the recently re-annexed Hexi Corridor—and this is a frontier soldier song. The title calls this a ci, which later was a specific form of song lyric, but since it was initially adapted from Central Asia it here seems to generically gesture towards the exoctic locale. The grape wine is also exotic, being all but unknown in the core empire. The pipa is a lute-like instrument. Lost in translation: the speaker mounts in a hurry.
268. Seeing Off Meng Haoran When He Left for Guangling, Li Bai
My old friend leaves the west and Yellow Crane Pagoda
In late spring’s mists and flowers, descending to Yangzhou.
A lone sail’s distant shadow fades into clear sky—
I only see the Yangzi flow to the horizon.
送孟浩然之广陵
故人西辞黄鹤楼，
烟花三月下扬州。
孤帆远影碧空尽，
惟见长江天际流。
Yellow Crane Pagoda was a famous tower in Wuhan overlooking the river. Guangling district in Yangzhou is five-hundred-plus miles east down the Yangzi, near modern Nanjing.
269. Descending to Jiangling; or, Setting Off from Baidi Town in the Morning, Li Bai
I left Baidi at dawn through parted rosy clouds.
A thousand li to Jiangling, returning in one day:
While apes upon both banks howl on unceasingly,
My skiff’s already passed ten thousand piled-up mountains.
下江陵 (早发白帝城)
朝辞白帝彩云间，
千里江陵一日还。
两岸猿声啼不住，
轻舟已过万重山。
My base text has the first title, but this is better known by the second. As Li Bai was traveling into exile in the deep south, a rescinding order caught up with him in Baidi at the top end of Qutang, the uppermost of the Three Gorges of the Yangzi—thus the “return.” Jiangling is modern Jingzhou, somewhat downstream from the mouth of the lowest gorge—about 1200 li by river, as it turns out.
270. Meeting by Chance an Envoy Returning to the Capital, Cen Shen
I gaze east at my hometown down the long, long road;
My two sleeves are decrepit, my tears have not yet dried.
We suddenly meet by chance, but I’ve no brush nor paper:
I’ll have to ask you to report, “He’s safe and sound.”
逢入京使
故园东望路漫漫，
双袖龙钟泪不干。
马上相逢无纸笔，
凭君传语报平安。
The poet was traveling for the first time away from his home in Chang’an, heading to a frontier military posting at Jade Gate Pass (see #277) in what’s now the far western end of Gansu Province.
271. Meeting by Chance Li Guinian South of the Yangzi, Du Fu
I found you often inside Prince Qi’s residence
And heard you many times in front of Cui Nine’s hall.
Truly the landscape is exquisite, south of the river:
I meet you once more in the season of falling flowers.
江南逢李龟年
岐王宅里寻常见，
崔九堂前几度闻。
正是江南好风景，
落花时节又逢君。
Written during the chaos after the An Lushan Rebellion when Du Fu was knocking about Hunan unemployed and penniless. Li Guinian was a musician who’d enjoyed imperial patronage, thus his knocking about in high places when times were good. The season of falling flowers is, of course, both literal time of year and the general period.
(This is not the same Cui Nine as #229: this one was a high-ranking minister named Cui Di. The number indicates he was the 9th male child in his generation of the family.)
272. Chuzhou West Brook, Wei Yingwu
I much prefer this sheltered grass beside the brook.
Above, an oriole sings from a shadowed tree.
The spring tide brings on rain—evening comes apace.
Out in the open, an unmanned ferry drifts across.
滁州西涧
独怜幽草涧边生，
上有黄鹂深树鸣。
春潮带雨晚来急，
野渡无人舟自横。
Chuzhou is a little north of the lower Yangzi, west of Nanjing. The ferry is for crossing a nearby lake. That’s “spring” as season and “tide” as in sea-tide, and not springtime nor extra-high tide.
273. Night Mooring at Maple Bridge, Zhang Ji of Hubei
At moonset, cawing crows and frost all over the sky.
By river maples, fishing lights cause anxious sleep.
Outside the walls of Gusu, from Cold Mountain Temple,
The tolling of the midnight bell reaches my boat.
枫桥夜泊
月落乌啼霜满天，
江枫渔火对愁眠。
姑苏城外寒山寺，
夜半钟声到客船。
Gusu is modern Suzhou, a little west of Shanghai in the Yangzi delta. The boat lights cause anxiety because Japanese pirates had recently raided in the area. (The author credit is given thus because he’s one of two Zhang Jis in the collection, though this one’s the only Zhāng Jì.)
274. Cold Food Day, Han Hong
A city spring: there’s nowhere without flowers flying;
Cold Food Day: east winds blow court willow branches askew.
At dusk, the great Han palace passes out lit candles—
Light smoke disperses, entering five noble houses.
寒食
春城无处不飞花，
寒食东风御柳斜。
日暮汉宫传蜡烛，
轻烟散入五侯家。
In Tang observances, the day before the early April* Qingming (Tomb-Sweeping) Festival was Cold Food Day: all fires were put out and everyone ate cold food. Decorations included willows branches for the departed, placed over doorways—the ones here are inside the imperial palace. When the observance was over, a fire was kindled in the palace or a local lord’s manor and propagated to other households by candles or lanterns.
So with that unpacked, there’s an another layer: the poem refers to an incident during the eastern Han Dynasty when five palace eunuchs were ennobled on the same day, by way of safely satirizing contemporary corruption. (This is a similar use of history as #266.)
Even aside from all the glossing needed, the language is especially compressed in this one.
* Not a typo: Qingming has always been tied to the solar astronomical calendar, not the traditional lunar one. Because Gregorian wobbles a little against the solar year (that’s why we have leap years) it falls on either April 4 or 5.
275. Moonlit Night, Liu Fangping
The late-night moonlight shines on only half the courtyard—
Big Dipper is oblique, South Dipper’s slanting down.
I suddenly know tonight the spring air’s warming up:
The sound of insects now comes through the window screen.
月夜
更深月色半人家，
北斗阑干南斗斜。
今夜偏知春气暖，
虫声新透绿窗沙。
Half the courtyard (literally “household”) because the moon is low behind the walls. The Southern Dipper is a Chinese constellation roughly corresponding to Sagittarius, which makes it a winter sky thing, now setting. Lost in translation: the screen is green.
276. A Spring Complaint, Liu Fangping
The sun in the window screen is slowly dipping to dusk;
In this golden mansion, no one sees my tears.
In the lonely empty courtyard, spring’s about to pass—
Pear blossoms cover the ground, but the door doesn’t open.
春怨
纱窗日落渐黄昏，
金屋无人见泪痕。
寂寞空庭春欲晚，
梨花满地不开门。
The golden mansion suggests an imperial concubine now out of favor, if not outright disgrace.
277. A Soldier’s Complaint, Liu Zhongyong
Year after year, Gold River’s just like Jade Gate Pass.
Day after day, we use our horse whips and sword rings.
It’s late spring, but white snow returns to the Green Tomb.
The Yellow River endlessly winds around Black Mountain.
征人怨
岁岁金河复玉关，
朝朝马策与刀环。
三春白雪归青冢，
万里黄河绕黑山。
Jade Gate Pass was where the Silk Road passed through a fortification in the Great Wall, near what’s now the west end of Gansu. Gold River is in what’s now Huhhot, Inner Mongolia, also a frontier posting. The tomb is supposedly that of Wang Zhaojun, a legendary beauty of the 1st century BCE, a little south of Huhhot, and Black Mountain is nearby, just off the Ordos Loop of the Yellow River. Sword rings are loose brass loops through the end of the pommel—the details of that line add up to “we see battle daily.”
278. A Palace Song, Gu Kuang
In the jade tower halfway to heaven, song and dance begin—
Wind brings the harmonious laughter and chatter of palace concubines.
The Moon Hall’s shadows shift; I hear the nighttime water clock;
I roll up the crystal curtain, and draw near the Autumn River.
宫词
玉楼天半起笙歌，
风送宫嫔笑语和。
月殿影开闻夜漏，
水晶帘卷近秋河。
The Moon Hall is the palace of Chang’e, goddess of the moon. The Autumn River is the Milky Way, which becomes prominent in the early night sky in autumn. I like the intricate parallels of mundane and celestial details.
279. Hearing a Flute as it Gets Dark in Shouxiang City, Li Yi
In front of Huile Peak, the sand seems snow;
Outside Shouxiang, the moonlight looks like frost.
I don’t know where the reed pipe’s being blown,
But soldiers gaze all night at far-off homes.
夜上受降城闻笛
回乐峰前沙似雪，
受降城外月如霜。
不知何处吹芦管，
一夜征人尽望乡。
Shouxiang and Huile are near the border of Ningxia and Inner Mongolia—so another frontier post. Interestingly, the poet doesn’t include himself as one of the homesick soldiers, although he did indeed serve here as part of his military career.
280. Black Clothes Lane, Liu Yuxi
Weeds blossom beside Vermilion Bird Bridge,
Sunset dims the mouth of Black Clothes Lane.
The swallows of yore on the halls of Wang and Xie
Now fly among the common people’s houses.
乌衣巷
朱雀桥边野草花，
乌衣巷口夕阳斜。
旧时王谢堂前燕，
飞入寻常百姓家。
Black Clothes Lane (so-called because during the Three Kingdoms period, black-uniformed soldiers were garrisoned there) was near Vermilion Bird Bridge in what’s now Nanjing. During the Eastern Jin Dynasty, it became an aristocratic district, including the households of revered statesmen Wang Dao and Xie An. Despite its dilapidation during Tang times and later, it still exists. The last two lines have become a famous quotation.
281. Spring Song, Liu Yuxi
Fresh makeup’s good—descend the scarlet tower:
Spring glory’s locked up tight in a yard of sorrow.
Reaching the central courtyard, I count the flowers.
A dragonfly flies up to my jade hairpin.
春词
新妆宜面下朱楼，
深锁春光一院愁。
行到中庭数花朵，
蜻蜓飞上玉搔头。
So much between the lines in this one. The speaker is a woman in a high-status household, either a mistress/young miss or a serving maid (commentaries are divided here). The sorrow is hers, understood from context and convention as from some disappointment in love. The dragonfly landing implies standing still for some time, lost in thought (or maybe wallowing).
282. Rear Palace Lyric, Bai Juyi
My silk kerchief is wet with tears—sweet dreams elude me.
The front hall, late at night, they’re beating time for songs.
Though my rose cheeks aren’t old, imperial favor stopped.
I lean upon the incense frame and sit till dawn.
后宫词
泪湿罗巾梦不成，
夜深前殿按歌声。
红颜未老恩先断，
斜倚薰笼坐到明。
The rear palace is the quarters of the imperial harem, and the speaker is a concubine. The frame is one used to hold clothes over an incense burner to perfume them. (This is both more direct and less moving than the previous.)
283. To a Palace Servant, Zhang Hu
The moon has marked the trees of the Forbidden Palace—
Your charming eyes see only a roosting heron’s nest.
In the lamplight’s shadow, you pull out your jade hairpin
And prick away the red flame to save a moth.
赠内人
禁门宫树月痕过，
媚眼惟看宿鹭窠。
斜拔玉钗灯影畔，
剔开红焰救飞蛾。
Usually pronounless poems are easiest read as first person, but that doesn’t work with how the eyes are described. In the last line, if it’s not clear, she’s adjusting the lamp-wick.
284. Gathered Spirits Terrace 1, Zhang Hu
The sunlight slants through Gathered Spirits Terrace,
The trees bloom red at dawn to greet the dew.
Last night, Xuanzong bestowed a Daoist title:
Great Purity, smiling, went behind his screen.
集灵台之一
日光斜照集灵台，
红树花迎晓露开。
昨夜上皇新授箓，
太真含笑入帘来。
Yang Yuhuan Guifei appears again, but this time the satire is more direct. Great Purity was her Daoist name during her brief stint as a nun, a dispensation secretly bestowed by Emperor Xuanzong as a way of unimpeachably dissolving her marriage to his son, prior to taking her as his own concubine a few days after.
The Terrace of Gathered Spirits was a hall within Huaqing Palace (an imperial pleasure palace at a hot spring southeast of Chang’an) used for rites praying for longevity for the emperor—thus its association with a Daoist investiture.
285. Gathered Spirits Terrace 2, Zhang Hu
The Lady of Guo was granted great imperial favor:
At dawn she rides her horse into the palace gate.
Because she hates cosmetics for sullying her face,
She merely brushes her brows before her audience.
集灵台之二
虢国夫人承主恩，
平明骑马入宫门。
却嫌脂粉污颜色，
淡扫蛾眉朝至尊。
Lady of Guo was a title given to one of Yang Yuhuan’s older sisters (her other two sisters were also titled). Avoiding makeup was apparently considered an affectation to mock. Lost in translation: the brows are “moth eyebrows,” and the audience is specifically with “his majesty.”
286. Inscribed at the Jinling Ferry Crossing, Zhang Hu
Jinling ferry crossing, the hill-top tower—
A one-night lodger would of course be anxious.
Tide falls, night river in the setting moon—
Those two or three star-sparks are just Guazhou.
题金陵渡
金陵津渡小山楼，
一宿行人自可愁。
潮落夜江斜月里，
两三星火是瓜州。
Jinling is modern Zhenjiang, a little downstream of Nanjing, and Guazhou is across the Yangzi, on the north bank—in the original, they face across the poem as the first and last words.
287. Palace Lyric, Zhu Qingyu
Lonely and hushed in flower season, the courtyard gate is closed.
Beautiful women side by side stand on the fine veranda.
They want to speak their inner feelings about these palace matters,
But here before a parrot they don’t dare say a word.
宫词
寂寂花时闭院门，
美人相并立琼轩。
含情欲说宫中事，
鹦鹉前头不敢言。
In case you were wondering about the stifling atmosphere of historical dramas set in the women’s quarters, some contemporary evidence.
288. Submitted Just Before the Examinations to Zhang of the Water Bureau, Zhu Qingyu
Last night in the bridal chamber, she set red candles out;
She waits to bow to his parents before their hall at dawn.
Makeup applied, in a low voice she asks her husband,
“How thick my brows are blackened—suitable or no?”
近试上张水部
洞房昨夜停红烛，
待晓堂前拜舅姑。
妆罢低声问夫婿，
画眉深浅入时无。
The Zhang is older poet Zhang Ji of Jiangnan (not the Zhang Ji of Hubei from #273), and the poem was submitted for a critique. Red candles were lit on birthdays and other auspicious celebrations. The final question from the bride also stands in for the student asking, Is my style suitable for the exams or no?
289. About to Depart for Wuxing, I Ascend Leyou Plain, Du Mu
In peaceful times, I have the interest but not ability:
Leisure love I, a lonely cloud—stillness love I, a monk.
I’m about to hold a magistrate’s banner, bound for river and sea:
I head up Leyou Plain and gaze on Taizong’s mausoleum.
将赴吴兴登乐游原
清时有味是无能，
闲爱孤云静爱僧。
欲把一麾江海去，
乐游原上望昭陵。
Wuxing is the central historical district of modern Huzhou in the Yangzi delta, just south of Shanghai. Same Leyou Plain as in #248. The tomb of the revered second Tang Emperor, Taizong, whose campaigns reunified and expanded the empire, was on a nearby mountain. Inversions in the second line reproduce inversions in the original.
290. Red Cliff, Du Mu
A broken halberd sunk in sand, the iron not yet rusted:
I rub and scrub and see it’s from a prior dynasty.
If east winds hadn’t blown conveniently for Master Zhou,
Come spring Bronze Sparrow would have locked away the two Qiao sisters.
赤壁
折戟沈沙铁未销，
自将磨洗认前朝。
东风不与周郎便，
铜雀春深锁二乔。
Red Cliff on the south bank of the middle Yangzi was the site of a 208 battle at the end of the Han Dynasty that set the stage for the Three Kingdoms era. Zhao Yu, married to one of the two beautiful Qiao sisters, was a general opposing Cao Cao, who was notorious for keeping a large harem in Bronze Sparrow Terrace. The wind was used to blow fire ships into Cao Cao’s fleet.
And so onwards to the second half of the part.
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
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Date: 26 August 2019 03:31 pm (UTC)I've even been known to write them.
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Date: 26 August 2019 04:23 pm (UTC)