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larryhammerOnce upon a time around 400CE, during the extended strife of the Six Dynasties era, the poet Tao Qian wrote a utopian fantasy story about a fisherman finding a hidden valley populated by refugees from the civil wars of the transition between Qin and Han dynasties, around 200 BCE. 300 years later, five years into what would become the golden age of Xuanzong’s reign, a teenage Wang Wei retold the story as a folk-song-style poem with a focus not on the refuge, but on the spiritual states of the residents and the fisherman.
Ballad of Peach-Blossom Spring, Wang Wei
A fisher sailed upstream, charmed by the mountain spring—
Peach blossoms on both banks, an old ford in between.
Entranced by red, red trees, he didn’t note how long
And reached the blue creek’s end, not meeting anyone.
He entered the hidden outlet folded in the cliffs
And when the mountain opened, beheld a wide, flat plain.
He saw far off a place where mingled clouds and trees—
Up close, a thousand homes beneath bamboo and flowers.
Woodcutters gave names that were passed down from the time of Han—
These men outside the world wore clothes unchanged since Qin.
These men outside the world lived at the Wuling’s source,
Away from the world beyond, tending their fields and gardens—
When moon’s bright on the pines, each shuttered house was hushed,
When day broke through the clouds, the cocks and dogs were noisy.
So startled by this worldly guest, they gathered round:
All sought to be his host, and asked about his home.
At dawn, they swept the petals from the hamlet’s lanes;
At dusk, fishers and cutters came in by cart and water.
Back then, to flee the world, they left the realm of men—
They here became immortals so had not returned.
Within this valley, no one knew the deeds of men—
Out in the world, all saw just empty clouds and mountains.
Not guessing that this spirit land was hard to find,
With worldly dust in his heart, his thoughts returned to home:
He left the cave, not noting the hills and streams he passed.
Time passes: he leaves his family, planning an easy trip,
Thinking he did it once and will not get confused.
Who knew that peaks and gorges could utterly change?
He knows just that he once went deep into the mountains
By twists of that blue creek, then found the cloudy forest.
Now spring is gone—and those peach blossoms scattered wide.
Immortal Source unsensed, how can he seek that place?
桃源行
渔舟逐水爱山春，
两岸桃花夹古津。
坐看红树不知远，
行尽青溪不见人。
山口潜行始隈隩，
山开旷望旋平陆。
遥看一处攒云树，
近入千家散花竹。
樵客初传汉姓名，
居人未改秦衣服。
居人共住武陵源，
还从物外起田园。
月明松下房栊静，
日出云中鸡犬喧。
惊闻俗客争来集，
竞引还家问都邑。
平明闾巷扫花开，
薄暮渔樵乘水入。
初因避地去人间，
及至成仙遂不还。
峡里谁知有人事，
世中遥望空云山。
不疑灵境难闻见，
尘心未尽思乡县。
出洞无论隔山水，
辞家终拟长游衍。
自谓经过旧不迷，
安知峰壑今来变。
当时只记入山深，
青溪几曲到云林？
春来遍是桃花水，
不辨仙源何处寻？
Although Tao Qian was careful to not place his fantasy in a specific location, Wang Wei follows local legends by setting it near the headwaters of the Wuling River, in the mountains near Changde, Hunan. (Per those legends, the fisherman was from Duyi, a village now part of Changde.)
“Ballad” seems the best translation of the “old verse form” sense of 行, as it’s often used for pathetic narratives. My first draft translation was in ballad measure, which was unsatisfying. I did experiment with replicating the original rhyme scheme (even lines rhymed), and while it was easy to pull off in ballad-form, that just made the voice even worse. So I revised it to more polished 6-beat lines. I also experimented with first-person narration—the original is ambiguous—but the narrator’s mocking tone convinced me to keep it in third person.
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
Ballad of Peach-Blossom Spring, Wang Wei
A fisher sailed upstream, charmed by the mountain spring—
Peach blossoms on both banks, an old ford in between.
Entranced by red, red trees, he didn’t note how long
And reached the blue creek’s end, not meeting anyone.
He entered the hidden outlet folded in the cliffs
And when the mountain opened, beheld a wide, flat plain.
He saw far off a place where mingled clouds and trees—
Up close, a thousand homes beneath bamboo and flowers.
Woodcutters gave names that were passed down from the time of Han—
These men outside the world wore clothes unchanged since Qin.
These men outside the world lived at the Wuling’s source,
Away from the world beyond, tending their fields and gardens—
When moon’s bright on the pines, each shuttered house was hushed,
When day broke through the clouds, the cocks and dogs were noisy.
So startled by this worldly guest, they gathered round:
All sought to be his host, and asked about his home.
At dawn, they swept the petals from the hamlet’s lanes;
At dusk, fishers and cutters came in by cart and water.
Back then, to flee the world, they left the realm of men—
They here became immortals so had not returned.
Within this valley, no one knew the deeds of men—
Out in the world, all saw just empty clouds and mountains.
Not guessing that this spirit land was hard to find,
With worldly dust in his heart, his thoughts returned to home:
He left the cave, not noting the hills and streams he passed.
Time passes: he leaves his family, planning an easy trip,
Thinking he did it once and will not get confused.
Who knew that peaks and gorges could utterly change?
He knows just that he once went deep into the mountains
By twists of that blue creek, then found the cloudy forest.
Now spring is gone—and those peach blossoms scattered wide.
Immortal Source unsensed, how can he seek that place?
桃源行
渔舟逐水爱山春，
两岸桃花夹古津。
坐看红树不知远，
行尽青溪不见人。
山口潜行始隈隩，
山开旷望旋平陆。
遥看一处攒云树，
近入千家散花竹。
樵客初传汉姓名，
居人未改秦衣服。
居人共住武陵源，
还从物外起田园。
月明松下房栊静，
日出云中鸡犬喧。
惊闻俗客争来集，
竞引还家问都邑。
平明闾巷扫花开，
薄暮渔樵乘水入。
初因避地去人间，
及至成仙遂不还。
峡里谁知有人事，
世中遥望空云山。
不疑灵境难闻见，
尘心未尽思乡县。
出洞无论隔山水，
辞家终拟长游衍。
自谓经过旧不迷，
安知峰壑今来变。
当时只记入山深，
青溪几曲到云林？
春来遍是桃花水，
不辨仙源何处寻？
Although Tao Qian was careful to not place his fantasy in a specific location, Wang Wei follows local legends by setting it near the headwaters of the Wuling River, in the mountains near Changde, Hunan. (Per those legends, the fisherman was from Duyi, a village now part of Changde.)
“Ballad” seems the best translation of the “old verse form” sense of 行, as it’s often used for pathetic narratives. My first draft translation was in ballad measure, which was unsatisfying. I did experiment with replicating the original rhyme scheme (even lines rhymed), and while it was easy to pull off in ballad-form, that just made the voice even worse. So I revised it to more polished 6-beat lines. I also experimented with first-person narration—the original is ambiguous—but the narrator’s mocking tone convinced me to keep it in third person.
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
no subject
Date: 12 July 2022 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 12 July 2022 06:14 pm (UTC)Not surprisingly, the morning/night lines have the most specific (and original) details.
no subject
Date: 12 July 2022 06:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 12 July 2022 08:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 14 July 2022 04:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 14 July 2022 04:06 pm (UTC)If I were telling this story myself, I'd reorder some of the lines in the middle, but a linear narrative is not prioritized in Chinese narrative poetry, and this poem highlights this in particularly clear ways precisely because the imagery is woven so well. And Wang was 18 (!) when he wrote it.