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larryhammerAnother big hunk of translation—this time, though, only one thing: the most famous long poem of Chinese literature. One of my goals for starting translating Chinese was to be able to do this, and now I have.
Though it claims to be set the Han Dynasty, this is to avoid a politically sensitive contemporary topic—it actually is a highly romanticized tale of Emperor Xuanzong and legendary beauty Yang Yuhuan Guifei. As part of the figleafing, the Emperor and his Consort are never named (though see l.87 and note), and to keep fact and fiction clear I’ll use those titles to refer to the characters and the names for the historical figures. As part of the romanticization, the drama of the central event is shunted aside in favor of dwelling on the emotions of the title (of which, see the end-notes). In fact, it could be argued that (content warning) the Consort gets fridged.
But enough pre-judging—on with the show:
Song of Lasting Regret, Bai Juyi
Han’s Emperor prized looks, sought devastating beauty—
His household looked for years but couldn’t find him one.
The House of Yang had a daughter starting to mature
Raised in the women’s quarters—no one knew of her
But for beauties born by Heaven, hiding oneself is hard:
One day she was selected for the monarch’s side.
A glance back and a smile, a hundred charms were born—
The Six Palaces’s painted ladies were faces without looks.
One cold spring, she’d the honor of bathing at Huaqing.
The waters of the hot-spring slid off smooth white skin [10]
As servants helped her rise up, languid, without strength—
And it was then she first received his royal favor.
Cloud hair, a flower face, a golden hairpin swaying,
Within the warmth of lotus screens she passed spring nights—
Spring nights that were bitterly short: the sun rose high,
And then her lord did not attend his morning court.
She sought to please him, served at banquets, never idle:
In spring, she chased spring pleasures—nights, she took all night.
Rear Palace had its elegant beauties, three thousand of them—
The love of all three thousand he gave to just one. [20]
Gold house, her make-up done, her charm served him all night.
Jade tower, banquet over, drinking mingled with spring.
Her sisters, brothers, old, young, all enfeoffed with land—
Splendor to envy, giving them new family status,
Which caused the hearts of parents all throughout the land
To prize the birth of not their sons but only daughters.
They stayed in high Li Palace, entering azure clouds.
Winds bore immortal music heard both hither and yon—
Slow song and leisurely dance blended with instruments.
All day the monarch gazed, but could not get enough. [30]
Then Yuyang drums and scabbards shook the earth as they came—
Shock broke the song of Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes
As under palace towers smoke and dust were born:
Thousands of chariots, ten-thousand riders drove southwest.
Kingfisher banners shook as they fled then halted again
Out the capital’s western gate for more than a hundred li,
But then six armies stopped. He couldn’t do a thing:
Writhing in anguish, a beauty died before the horses.
Her flower hairpin fell down—no one picked it up,
Nor kingfisher tail, gold-sparrow pin, and jade hair-clasp. [40]
The monarch covered up his face, unable to save her,
Then glanced back: his tears flowed, an echo of her blood.
The yellow dust dispersed, the wind sighed bleak and dreary.
The plank path through the clouds coiled up to Jian pavilions
And there were few who traveled under Mt. Emei.
His feathered banners weren’t bright, the sun looked thin,
Though Sichuan streams were green and Sichuan mountains blue.
The ruler brooded dawn after dawn, dusk after dusk—
The moon in his makeshift palace showed his broken heart,
A bell chime on a rainy night deepened his feelings. [50]
Days turned and seasons passed: his dragon carriage returned,
But at that place, he faltered, unable to go on:
Upon the muddy earth beneath the slopes of Mawei
He saw no jade face, just the empty place she died.
Both ruler and officials looked, wept on their robes,
Gazed toward the capital, and let their horses return—
Return to pools and gardens all as they were before—
The lotus of Taiye Pools and willows of Weiyang Palace—
Lotuses like her face and willows like her brows—
And in response, who wouldn’t have their tears stream down? [60]
Spring winds removed at night the blossoms of plums and peaches,
The autumn rains scattered in season the wutong leaves—
West Palace and South Park had many withered plants,
Palace leaves filled up the stairs with unswept red—
Imperial opera singers now had hair gone white,
The empress’s attendants’ youthful looks were aged.
One dusk with fireflies, he brooded silently:
The lonely lamp went out but he was not asleep—
The watch’s drum struck late, beginning the long night—
The Milky Way shone brightly as he longed for dawn— [70]
The mandarin duck roof-tiles were cold with heavy frost,
The kingfisher quilt was chilly—who would share it with him?
Living and dead were distant, parted by passing years,
And yet her soul had never come to him in dreams.
A Linqiong Daoist priest, a guest in the capital,
Could use his true sincerity to summon spirits.
He was moved that the monarch tossed and turned with yearning
And finally the shaman searched for her in earnest.
Riding his breath, he flew through the air, rushing like lightning,
Climbing the sky, delving the earth, seeking her everywhere— [80]
Up to the Azure Heavens, down to the Yellow Springs,
But didn’t spot her anywhere in either vastness.
He heard then of an immortal mountain on the sea,
A mountain in a space of misty nothingness
Where a gorgeous pavilion rose up through five clouds
Within which there were many charming celestials,
Among them someone who was styled Great Purity
With snow-white skin and flower face—it seemed like her.
He knocked on the jade door of the west wing’s golden tower
And begged Xiaoyu to announce him to Shaungcheng. [90]
Hearing there was an envoy from Han’s Son of Heaven,
She started awake from dreams inside her splendid curtains,
Grabbed robes, pushed off her pillow, rose and paced about,
Then left her pearl bead-curtain and silver folding-screen.
Cloud hair all half-askew because she just woke up
And headdress crooked, she descended to the hall.
Winds blew immortal sleeves whirling and swirling up
As if she danced to Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes.
Her jade-like countenance was gloomy, crossed with tears—
A spray of pear blossoms that’s wearing the spring rain. [100]
Full of emotion, she fixed her gaze and told the monarch
That since parting, his voice and features were far away—
Their love and passion within Zhaoyang Hall was gone—
The days and months inside of Penglai Palace are long.
Turning her head to look down at the human realm,
She doesn’t see Chang’an, but only dust and mist.
To show her affection she could only offer keepsakes,
Sending to him an inlaid box and golden hairpin
But kept one tine of the hairpin and one side of the box—
Breaking the hairpin’s gold, splitting the box’s inlay. [110]
So long as he made his heart as strong as gold and inlay,
In heaven above or human realms, they’ll meet again.
As the time to part approached, she sent another message,
A message with an oath known only in their hearts:
“Upon a Double Seventh in Longevity Hall,
At midnight one time no one else was there, we whispered,
‘Just as in heaven there’s the longed-for bridge of birds,
We are on earth the longed-for trees grown both together.’
Heaven is lasting. Earth endures. Time has no limit.
This regret goes on and on without an end.” [120]
長恨歌
汉皇重色思倾国，
御宇多年求不得。
杨家有女初长成，
养在深闺人未识。
天生丽质难自弃，
一朝选在君王侧；
回眸一笑百媚生，
六宫粉黛无颜色。
春寒赐浴华清池，
温泉水滑洗凝脂。
侍儿扶起娇无力，
始是新承恩泽时。
云鬓花颜金步摇，
芙蓉帐暖度春宵。
春宵苦短日高起，
从此君王不早朝。
承欢侍宴无闲暇，
春从春游夜专夜。
后宫佳丽三千人，
三千宠爱在一身。
金屋妆成娇侍夜，
玉楼宴罢醉和春。
姊妹弟兄皆列土，
可怜光彩生门户。
遂令天下父母心，
不重生男重生女。
骊宫高处入青云，
仙乐风飘处处闻。
缓歌慢舞凝丝竹，
尽日君王看不足。
渔阳鞞鼓动地来，
惊破霓裳羽衣曲。
九重城阙烟尘生，
千乘万骑西南行。
翠华摇摇行复止，
西出都门百馀里。
六军不发无奈何，
宛转蛾眉马前死。
花钿委地无人收，
翠翘金雀玉搔头。
君王掩面救不得，
回看血泪相和流。
黄埃散漫风萧索，
云栈萦纡登剑阁。
峨嵋山下少人行，
旌旗无光日色薄。
蜀江水碧蜀山青，
圣主朝朝暮暮情。
行宫见月伤心色，
夜雨闻铃肠断声。
天旋日转回龙驭，
到此踌躇不能去。
马嵬坡下泥土中，
不见玉颜空死处。
君臣相顾尽沾衣，
东望都门信马归。
归来池苑皆依旧，
太液芙蓉未央柳。
芙蓉如面柳如眉，
对此如何不泪垂。
春风桃李花开夜，
秋雨梧桐叶落时。
西宫南苑多秋草，
宫叶满阶红不扫。
梨园弟子白发新，
椒房阿监青娥老。
夕殿萤飞思悄然，
孤灯挑尽未成眠。
迟迟钟鼓初长夜，
耿耿星河欲曙天。
鸳鸯瓦冷霜华重，
翡翠衾寒谁与共。
悠悠生死别经年，
魂魄不曾来入梦。
临邛道士鸿都客，
能以精诚致魂魄。
为感君王辗转思，
遂教方士殷勤觅。
排空驭气奔如电，
升天入地求之遍。
上穷碧落下黄泉，
两处茫茫皆不见。
忽闻海上有仙山，
山在虚无缥缈间。
楼阁玲珑五云起，
其中绰约多仙子。
中有一人字太真，
雪肤花貌参差是。
金阙西厢叩玉扃，
转教小玉报双成。
闻道汉家天子使，
九华帐里梦魂惊。
揽衣推枕起裴回，
珠箔银屏逦迤开。
云鬓半偏新睡觉，
花冠不整下堂来。
风吹仙袂飘颻举，
犹似霓裳羽衣舞。
玉容寂寞泪阑干，
梨花一枝春带雨。
含情凝睇谢君王，
一别音容两渺茫。
昭阳殿里恩爱绝，
蓬莱宫中日月长。
回头下望人寰处，
不见长安见尘雾。
唯将旧物表深情，
钿合金钗寄将去。
钗留一股合一扇，
钗擘黄金合分钿。
但教心似金钿坚，
天上人间会相见。
临别殷勤重寄词，
词中有誓两心知。
七月七日长生殿，
夜半无人私语时。
在天愿作比翼鸟，
在地愿为连理枝。
天长地久有时尽，
此恨绵绵无绝期。
Two intertangled issues of interpretation, by way of fair warning:
For years my preferred translation of the title was Song of Everlasting Regret, and indeed when referring to duration, 長 (“long”) can imply a not just indefinitely long but infinitely long time—but the latter is not the only meaning and lasting has the same ambiguities. Also, it’s possible to understand 恨 as either sorrow—which certainly is what the emperor feels—or regret, and if there was an equivalently ambiguous English word I’d use it in a heartbeat. But given where the ending lands, regret feels more accurate.
Complicating that, in the conclusion the Consort gives three speeches, the first two of which (l.102ff and 111-112) seem to be given indirectly while the last (l.115ff) is more clearly direct quotation. But even the latter has questions—the biggest being whether the final two lines are still her speaking or the narrator. (There are no quotation marks in classical Chinese beyond starting with an “X said” speech tag.) If her, the titular regret is that she cannot fulfil that promise—if the narrator, it’s probably better understood as sorrow, her and the Emperor’s joint grieving at their lives together being cut off. Given her message’s distant attitude, her immortality, and the irony of being able to easily break the tokens of endurance, I’m inclined to the former, even though this means not circling back and closing off the Emperor’s thread (or even leaving it open).
Specific notes: Calling the Consort hidden (l.5) ignores in the name of romance that Yang Guifei was for a few years a concubine of one of Xuanzong’s sons before Xuanzong married her himself (via a brief investiture as a Doaost nun) shortly after his previous consort died. The Six Palaces (l.8) a.k.a. the Rear Palace (l.19) were the quarters of the imperial harem. Hauqing (“elegant clarity”) Palace (l.9) on Mt. Li (l.27), 15 miles east of Chang’an, was built as an imperial resort for the hotsprings there. The golden house (l.20) glances back to the purported ancient setting: Han Emperor Wu built one for Consort Jiao (literally “charm”). Throughout the passage before and after l.20, the operative overtone to “spring” is “wantonness.”
An Lushan was the military governor of Yuyang (l.31) on the northeast frontier (now part of Beijing) when he began his 755 rebellion. Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes (ll.32 & 98) was a dance number specifically associated with Xuanzong’s court, and it was rumored that he composed the music. The emperor’s traveling regalia (l.35) had bright kingfisher-feather decorations on the banners. In history, at Mawei Hill (not named till l.53) on the road 30 mi/50 km out of Chang’an heading toward Sichuan, the imperial guards, angry at not being paid or fed, killed the Prime Minister, who was Yang Guifei’s cousin, plus several other members of their family, and then forced Xuanzong to have her killed—all on the pretext that the Yangs had caused the current troubles. Unlike this Consort, however, she was not cut down in front of the horses (l.38) but rather strangled in a nearby Buddhist temple. The kingfisher-tail hair-stick and golden sparrow hair-pin (l.40) are kinds of hair ornaments.
Parts of the road (l.44) through Jianmen Pass (“sword-gate,” named for the surrounding sharp peaks) through the mountains between Shaanxi and Sichuan were until modern times wooden planks bracketed onto the steep cliffs. Mt. Emei (l.45) is on the southern border of Sichuan—not all that close to Chengdu where Xuanzong stayed, but it had a deep tradition of poetic inspiration. By the time Xuanzong was installed there, he had abdicated in favor of his son Suzong, but there’s no mention of the Emperor doing this. A jade face (l.54) is a beautiful one, but jade is also the literal meaning of the yu of Yang Yuhuan’s personal name, so the line can also be read as “he didn’t see Jade’s face.” Taiye and Weiyang (l.58) were both built northwest of Chang’an during the Han Dynasty, making them another gesture towards the nominal setting. In contrast, in l.63 the West Palace and South Park—alternate names for Taiji and Xingqing palaces, where Xuanzong and the Emperor initially stayed after returning to the capital—were both modern, peaking through gaps in the fig leaves. Pairs of mandarin ducks (l.71), a symbol of marital fidelity because they mate for life, were a common decoration for roof tiles, especially on residences.
Breath (l.79) is qi as in martial-arts-qi, which can also be understood as “air” or “wind” or “vital energy.” Yellow Springs (l.81) is the Chinese afterworld. The mountain of l.83 is identified in l.104 as Penglai, a legendary island of celestial beings in the eastern ocean. Great Purity (l.87) was Yang Guifei’s Daoist name (see Tang Shi #284). In Daoist lore, Xiaoyu (“little jade”) and Shuangcheng (“double success”) (l.90) are two female celestial beings repurposed here as attendants.
L.99 can also be read as “Jade’s countenance,” harkening to the historical name again. L.100 is the source of the idiom 梨花带雨, literally “pear blossom wearing rain” meaning “tear-stained face of a beauty.” Zhaoyang (“bright sun”) was originally the residence of Han Consort Zhao, and later became a general term for any imperial residence (l.103). The dust and mist (l.106) are sometimes understood as the result of war (compare l.33) and sometimes of just mortality in general. Longevity Hall (l.114) is in Hauqing Palace (l.9), circling us back to the beginning. The Double Seventh Festival (l.114), on the one day a year two separated immortal lovers can meet by a bridge of outstretched magpie wings over the river of the Milky Way, was and still is a couples day.
Idioms, for those who want some flavor of the original language: A devastating beauty (l.1) is literally “kingdom-wrecker.” Painted lady (l.8) is “face-paint eye-liner.” Smooth white skin (l.10) is “congealed fat,” which is a compliment. The hairpin in l.13 is a type with danglies on the end called a “walk-sway.” The musical instruments (l.29) are “silk (and) bamboo.” Palace (l.33) is “nine-layered walls.” A beauty (l.38) is “moth eyebrows.” Wept on their robes (l.55) is “soaked” their clothes. Withered (l.63) is “autumn”—an overtone as common to that season as wanton is to spring (alas that “autumnal” doesn’t really convey this sense). Azure Heavens (l.80) is “Azure Fall,” a Daoist term. The splendid (l.92) bed-curtains are “nine-splendor.” Headdress (l.96) is a “flower hat/cap/crown” thingy. Keepsakes (l.107) is “old things.”
And now I get to sigh ...
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
Though it claims to be set the Han Dynasty, this is to avoid a politically sensitive contemporary topic—it actually is a highly romanticized tale of Emperor Xuanzong and legendary beauty Yang Yuhuan Guifei. As part of the figleafing, the Emperor and his Consort are never named (though see l.87 and note), and to keep fact and fiction clear I’ll use those titles to refer to the characters and the names for the historical figures. As part of the romanticization, the drama of the central event is shunted aside in favor of dwelling on the emotions of the title (of which, see the end-notes). In fact, it could be argued that (content warning) the Consort gets fridged.
But enough pre-judging—on with the show:
Song of Lasting Regret, Bai Juyi
Han’s Emperor prized looks, sought devastating beauty—
His household looked for years but couldn’t find him one.
The House of Yang had a daughter starting to mature
Raised in the women’s quarters—no one knew of her
But for beauties born by Heaven, hiding oneself is hard:
One day she was selected for the monarch’s side.
A glance back and a smile, a hundred charms were born—
The Six Palaces’s painted ladies were faces without looks.
One cold spring, she’d the honor of bathing at Huaqing.
The waters of the hot-spring slid off smooth white skin [10]
As servants helped her rise up, languid, without strength—
And it was then she first received his royal favor.
Cloud hair, a flower face, a golden hairpin swaying,
Within the warmth of lotus screens she passed spring nights—
Spring nights that were bitterly short: the sun rose high,
And then her lord did not attend his morning court.
She sought to please him, served at banquets, never idle:
In spring, she chased spring pleasures—nights, she took all night.
Rear Palace had its elegant beauties, three thousand of them—
The love of all three thousand he gave to just one. [20]
Gold house, her make-up done, her charm served him all night.
Jade tower, banquet over, drinking mingled with spring.
Her sisters, brothers, old, young, all enfeoffed with land—
Splendor to envy, giving them new family status,
Which caused the hearts of parents all throughout the land
To prize the birth of not their sons but only daughters.
They stayed in high Li Palace, entering azure clouds.
Winds bore immortal music heard both hither and yon—
Slow song and leisurely dance blended with instruments.
All day the monarch gazed, but could not get enough. [30]
Then Yuyang drums and scabbards shook the earth as they came—
Shock broke the song of Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes
As under palace towers smoke and dust were born:
Thousands of chariots, ten-thousand riders drove southwest.
Kingfisher banners shook as they fled then halted again
Out the capital’s western gate for more than a hundred li,
But then six armies stopped. He couldn’t do a thing:
Writhing in anguish, a beauty died before the horses.
Her flower hairpin fell down—no one picked it up,
Nor kingfisher tail, gold-sparrow pin, and jade hair-clasp. [40]
The monarch covered up his face, unable to save her,
Then glanced back: his tears flowed, an echo of her blood.
The yellow dust dispersed, the wind sighed bleak and dreary.
The plank path through the clouds coiled up to Jian pavilions
And there were few who traveled under Mt. Emei.
His feathered banners weren’t bright, the sun looked thin,
Though Sichuan streams were green and Sichuan mountains blue.
The ruler brooded dawn after dawn, dusk after dusk—
The moon in his makeshift palace showed his broken heart,
A bell chime on a rainy night deepened his feelings. [50]
Days turned and seasons passed: his dragon carriage returned,
But at that place, he faltered, unable to go on:
Upon the muddy earth beneath the slopes of Mawei
He saw no jade face, just the empty place she died.
Both ruler and officials looked, wept on their robes,
Gazed toward the capital, and let their horses return—
Return to pools and gardens all as they were before—
The lotus of Taiye Pools and willows of Weiyang Palace—
Lotuses like her face and willows like her brows—
And in response, who wouldn’t have their tears stream down? [60]
Spring winds removed at night the blossoms of plums and peaches,
The autumn rains scattered in season the wutong leaves—
West Palace and South Park had many withered plants,
Palace leaves filled up the stairs with unswept red—
Imperial opera singers now had hair gone white,
The empress’s attendants’ youthful looks were aged.
One dusk with fireflies, he brooded silently:
The lonely lamp went out but he was not asleep—
The watch’s drum struck late, beginning the long night—
The Milky Way shone brightly as he longed for dawn— [70]
The mandarin duck roof-tiles were cold with heavy frost,
The kingfisher quilt was chilly—who would share it with him?
Living and dead were distant, parted by passing years,
And yet her soul had never come to him in dreams.
A Linqiong Daoist priest, a guest in the capital,
Could use his true sincerity to summon spirits.
He was moved that the monarch tossed and turned with yearning
And finally the shaman searched for her in earnest.
Riding his breath, he flew through the air, rushing like lightning,
Climbing the sky, delving the earth, seeking her everywhere— [80]
Up to the Azure Heavens, down to the Yellow Springs,
But didn’t spot her anywhere in either vastness.
He heard then of an immortal mountain on the sea,
A mountain in a space of misty nothingness
Where a gorgeous pavilion rose up through five clouds
Within which there were many charming celestials,
Among them someone who was styled Great Purity
With snow-white skin and flower face—it seemed like her.
He knocked on the jade door of the west wing’s golden tower
And begged Xiaoyu to announce him to Shaungcheng. [90]
Hearing there was an envoy from Han’s Son of Heaven,
She started awake from dreams inside her splendid curtains,
Grabbed robes, pushed off her pillow, rose and paced about,
Then left her pearl bead-curtain and silver folding-screen.
Cloud hair all half-askew because she just woke up
And headdress crooked, she descended to the hall.
Winds blew immortal sleeves whirling and swirling up
As if she danced to Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes.
Her jade-like countenance was gloomy, crossed with tears—
A spray of pear blossoms that’s wearing the spring rain. [100]
Full of emotion, she fixed her gaze and told the monarch
That since parting, his voice and features were far away—
Their love and passion within Zhaoyang Hall was gone—
The days and months inside of Penglai Palace are long.
Turning her head to look down at the human realm,
She doesn’t see Chang’an, but only dust and mist.
To show her affection she could only offer keepsakes,
Sending to him an inlaid box and golden hairpin
But kept one tine of the hairpin and one side of the box—
Breaking the hairpin’s gold, splitting the box’s inlay. [110]
So long as he made his heart as strong as gold and inlay,
In heaven above or human realms, they’ll meet again.
As the time to part approached, she sent another message,
A message with an oath known only in their hearts:
“Upon a Double Seventh in Longevity Hall,
At midnight one time no one else was there, we whispered,
‘Just as in heaven there’s the longed-for bridge of birds,
We are on earth the longed-for trees grown both together.’
Heaven is lasting. Earth endures. Time has no limit.
This regret goes on and on without an end.” [120]
長恨歌
汉皇重色思倾国，
御宇多年求不得。
杨家有女初长成，
养在深闺人未识。
天生丽质难自弃，
一朝选在君王侧；
回眸一笑百媚生，
六宫粉黛无颜色。
春寒赐浴华清池，
温泉水滑洗凝脂。
侍儿扶起娇无力，
始是新承恩泽时。
云鬓花颜金步摇，
芙蓉帐暖度春宵。
春宵苦短日高起，
从此君王不早朝。
承欢侍宴无闲暇，
春从春游夜专夜。
后宫佳丽三千人，
三千宠爱在一身。
金屋妆成娇侍夜，
玉楼宴罢醉和春。
姊妹弟兄皆列土，
可怜光彩生门户。
遂令天下父母心，
不重生男重生女。
骊宫高处入青云，
仙乐风飘处处闻。
缓歌慢舞凝丝竹，
尽日君王看不足。
渔阳鞞鼓动地来，
惊破霓裳羽衣曲。
九重城阙烟尘生，
千乘万骑西南行。
翠华摇摇行复止，
西出都门百馀里。
六军不发无奈何，
宛转蛾眉马前死。
花钿委地无人收，
翠翘金雀玉搔头。
君王掩面救不得，
回看血泪相和流。
黄埃散漫风萧索，
云栈萦纡登剑阁。
峨嵋山下少人行，
旌旗无光日色薄。
蜀江水碧蜀山青，
圣主朝朝暮暮情。
行宫见月伤心色，
夜雨闻铃肠断声。
天旋日转回龙驭，
到此踌躇不能去。
马嵬坡下泥土中，
不见玉颜空死处。
君臣相顾尽沾衣，
东望都门信马归。
归来池苑皆依旧，
太液芙蓉未央柳。
芙蓉如面柳如眉，
对此如何不泪垂。
春风桃李花开夜，
秋雨梧桐叶落时。
西宫南苑多秋草，
宫叶满阶红不扫。
梨园弟子白发新，
椒房阿监青娥老。
夕殿萤飞思悄然，
孤灯挑尽未成眠。
迟迟钟鼓初长夜，
耿耿星河欲曙天。
鸳鸯瓦冷霜华重，
翡翠衾寒谁与共。
悠悠生死别经年，
魂魄不曾来入梦。
临邛道士鸿都客，
能以精诚致魂魄。
为感君王辗转思，
遂教方士殷勤觅。
排空驭气奔如电，
升天入地求之遍。
上穷碧落下黄泉，
两处茫茫皆不见。
忽闻海上有仙山，
山在虚无缥缈间。
楼阁玲珑五云起，
其中绰约多仙子。
中有一人字太真，
雪肤花貌参差是。
金阙西厢叩玉扃，
转教小玉报双成。
闻道汉家天子使，
九华帐里梦魂惊。
揽衣推枕起裴回，
珠箔银屏逦迤开。
云鬓半偏新睡觉，
花冠不整下堂来。
风吹仙袂飘颻举，
犹似霓裳羽衣舞。
玉容寂寞泪阑干，
梨花一枝春带雨。
含情凝睇谢君王，
一别音容两渺茫。
昭阳殿里恩爱绝，
蓬莱宫中日月长。
回头下望人寰处，
不见长安见尘雾。
唯将旧物表深情，
钿合金钗寄将去。
钗留一股合一扇，
钗擘黄金合分钿。
但教心似金钿坚，
天上人间会相见。
临别殷勤重寄词，
词中有誓两心知。
七月七日长生殿，
夜半无人私语时。
在天愿作比翼鸟，
在地愿为连理枝。
天长地久有时尽，
此恨绵绵无绝期。
Two intertangled issues of interpretation, by way of fair warning:
For years my preferred translation of the title was Song of Everlasting Regret, and indeed when referring to duration, 長 (“long”) can imply a not just indefinitely long but infinitely long time—but the latter is not the only meaning and lasting has the same ambiguities. Also, it’s possible to understand 恨 as either sorrow—which certainly is what the emperor feels—or regret, and if there was an equivalently ambiguous English word I’d use it in a heartbeat. But given where the ending lands, regret feels more accurate.
Complicating that, in the conclusion the Consort gives three speeches, the first two of which (l.102ff and 111-112) seem to be given indirectly while the last (l.115ff) is more clearly direct quotation. But even the latter has questions—the biggest being whether the final two lines are still her speaking or the narrator. (There are no quotation marks in classical Chinese beyond starting with an “X said” speech tag.) If her, the titular regret is that she cannot fulfil that promise—if the narrator, it’s probably better understood as sorrow, her and the Emperor’s joint grieving at their lives together being cut off. Given her message’s distant attitude, her immortality, and the irony of being able to easily break the tokens of endurance, I’m inclined to the former, even though this means not circling back and closing off the Emperor’s thread (or even leaving it open).
Specific notes: Calling the Consort hidden (l.5) ignores in the name of romance that Yang Guifei was for a few years a concubine of one of Xuanzong’s sons before Xuanzong married her himself (via a brief investiture as a Doaost nun) shortly after his previous consort died. The Six Palaces (l.8) a.k.a. the Rear Palace (l.19) were the quarters of the imperial harem. Hauqing (“elegant clarity”) Palace (l.9) on Mt. Li (l.27), 15 miles east of Chang’an, was built as an imperial resort for the hotsprings there. The golden house (l.20) glances back to the purported ancient setting: Han Emperor Wu built one for Consort Jiao (literally “charm”). Throughout the passage before and after l.20, the operative overtone to “spring” is “wantonness.”
An Lushan was the military governor of Yuyang (l.31) on the northeast frontier (now part of Beijing) when he began his 755 rebellion. Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes (ll.32 & 98) was a dance number specifically associated with Xuanzong’s court, and it was rumored that he composed the music. The emperor’s traveling regalia (l.35) had bright kingfisher-feather decorations on the banners. In history, at Mawei Hill (not named till l.53) on the road 30 mi/50 km out of Chang’an heading toward Sichuan, the imperial guards, angry at not being paid or fed, killed the Prime Minister, who was Yang Guifei’s cousin, plus several other members of their family, and then forced Xuanzong to have her killed—all on the pretext that the Yangs had caused the current troubles. Unlike this Consort, however, she was not cut down in front of the horses (l.38) but rather strangled in a nearby Buddhist temple. The kingfisher-tail hair-stick and golden sparrow hair-pin (l.40) are kinds of hair ornaments.
Parts of the road (l.44) through Jianmen Pass (“sword-gate,” named for the surrounding sharp peaks) through the mountains between Shaanxi and Sichuan were until modern times wooden planks bracketed onto the steep cliffs. Mt. Emei (l.45) is on the southern border of Sichuan—not all that close to Chengdu where Xuanzong stayed, but it had a deep tradition of poetic inspiration. By the time Xuanzong was installed there, he had abdicated in favor of his son Suzong, but there’s no mention of the Emperor doing this. A jade face (l.54) is a beautiful one, but jade is also the literal meaning of the yu of Yang Yuhuan’s personal name, so the line can also be read as “he didn’t see Jade’s face.” Taiye and Weiyang (l.58) were both built northwest of Chang’an during the Han Dynasty, making them another gesture towards the nominal setting. In contrast, in l.63 the West Palace and South Park—alternate names for Taiji and Xingqing palaces, where Xuanzong and the Emperor initially stayed after returning to the capital—were both modern, peaking through gaps in the fig leaves. Pairs of mandarin ducks (l.71), a symbol of marital fidelity because they mate for life, were a common decoration for roof tiles, especially on residences.
Breath (l.79) is qi as in martial-arts-qi, which can also be understood as “air” or “wind” or “vital energy.” Yellow Springs (l.81) is the Chinese afterworld. The mountain of l.83 is identified in l.104 as Penglai, a legendary island of celestial beings in the eastern ocean. Great Purity (l.87) was Yang Guifei’s Daoist name (see Tang Shi #284). In Daoist lore, Xiaoyu (“little jade”) and Shuangcheng (“double success”) (l.90) are two female celestial beings repurposed here as attendants.
L.99 can also be read as “Jade’s countenance,” harkening to the historical name again. L.100 is the source of the idiom 梨花带雨, literally “pear blossom wearing rain” meaning “tear-stained face of a beauty.” Zhaoyang (“bright sun”) was originally the residence of Han Consort Zhao, and later became a general term for any imperial residence (l.103). The dust and mist (l.106) are sometimes understood as the result of war (compare l.33) and sometimes of just mortality in general. Longevity Hall (l.114) is in Hauqing Palace (l.9), circling us back to the beginning. The Double Seventh Festival (l.114), on the one day a year two separated immortal lovers can meet by a bridge of outstretched magpie wings over the river of the Milky Way, was and still is a couples day.
Idioms, for those who want some flavor of the original language: A devastating beauty (l.1) is literally “kingdom-wrecker.” Painted lady (l.8) is “face-paint eye-liner.” Smooth white skin (l.10) is “congealed fat,” which is a compliment. The hairpin in l.13 is a type with danglies on the end called a “walk-sway.” The musical instruments (l.29) are “silk (and) bamboo.” Palace (l.33) is “nine-layered walls.” A beauty (l.38) is “moth eyebrows.” Wept on their robes (l.55) is “soaked” their clothes. Withered (l.63) is “autumn”—an overtone as common to that season as wanton is to spring (alas that “autumnal” doesn’t really convey this sense). Azure Heavens (l.80) is “Azure Fall,” a Daoist term. The splendid (l.92) bed-curtains are “nine-splendor.” Headdress (l.96) is a “flower hat/cap/crown” thingy. Keepsakes (l.107) is “old things.”
And now I get to sigh ...
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
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Date: 5 June 2020 04:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 5 June 2020 05:47 pm (UTC)I suppose “creamy” or “butter-smooth” skin might be an equivalent in English, though I don’t suppose the Han Dynasty was much into dairy products.
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Date: 5 June 2020 06:49 pm (UTC)Nor modern China, aside from yogurts. But "creamy" has possibilities regardless.
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Date: 5 June 2020 08:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 5 June 2020 10:44 pm (UTC):nodnodnod: You can watch it build its effects.