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larryhammerGlancing through chapter 878 of Complete Tang Poems, devoted to 谣 (yáo), popular rhymes, I noticed some are called 童谣 (tóngyáo), literally “children’s rhymes,” modern meaning “nursery rhymes.” So I’m, like, duh Imma sample them —ancient lullabies FTW!
Well, not so much. This was an object lesson in language drift and being careful with idioms—these aren’t songs from the nursery but chants from the playground.
Which, yes, were collected and preserved. There’s a long tradition of collecting folksongs: scholar-officials were interested because they believed, following Confucius, folksongs measured the mood of the common people and so the health of the realm. The Han Dynasty had an imperial department devoted to collecting adult folksongs, in the style that came to be called yuefu (“music bureau”) after the department. I didn’t figure out these were more of the same till I’d already picked four at random and started translating them.
These all have a historical moment attached by the editors or their sources, so I’ll put them in chronological order.
Children’s Rhyme of 682
Fresh rice did not go in the basket,
Fresh wheat did not go on the floor—
And when the Eighth and Ninth Months came
The dog barked in the empty yard.
永淳中童谣
〈永淳元年七月，东都大雨，人多殍殕，先是童谣曰。〉
新禾不入箱，
新麦不入场。
迨及八九月，
狗吠空垣墙。
As nicely gruesome as anything from Mother Goose. Lost in translation: the “floor” is specifically the threshing floor.
Children’s Rhyme of the Time of Empress Wu
A long skirt layered red and green—
A thousand li, ten-thousand li, it still smells sweet.
武后时童谣
红绿复裙长，
千里万里犹香。
Wu Zetian controlled the reins of government from 665 to 690 as empress consort then empress dowager before taking the throne herself as empress regnant 690-705. I suspect the poem refers to public events or gossip I’m ignorant of.
Both Ends Vermilion Children’s Rhyme
It’s just one chopstick,
Both ends vermilion—
In five or six months,
It’s worn smooth.
两头朱童谣
一只箸，
两头朱，
五六月
化为胆。
〈此为朱泚谣也，后果于六月兵败而死〉
This has a double-meaning, thanks to puns. Zhu Ci, whose surname (朱) literally means vermilion, was a general in charge of the Chang’an defenses who was implicated by the rebellion of his brother Zhu Tao and in self-defense declared himself emperor, with his brother as crown prince. His pretendership was defeated in the Sixth Month of 784. The original meaning, as in back in Old Chinese, of 胆 was “smooth” (it’s used in that sense in Classic of Rites), but by the Han Dynasty its primary meaning had shifted to the modern one of “gallbladder” and thence “gall” itself, in both the literal and metaphoric senses gall has in English. With that reading, we get the alternate version:
It’s just one chopstick,
Two heads Zhu—
In Fifth and Sixth Month,
They’ve got gall.
Very schoolyard to pun like this.
Children’s Rhyme of 866
The grasses green, so green,
Covered with heavy frost—
The magpie who was nesting
Keeps looking all around distraught.
咸通七年童谣
草青青，
被严霜。
鹊始巢，
复看颠狂。
Another where I’ve no idea of the historical context—an editorial note would be nice. Potential double-meaning: 青青 “green-green” can describe someone as fresh-faced and/or very young, and a heavy frost can refer to stern parental authority. No clue about the magpie, though.
That was interesting, and I hope somewhere out there social historians are mining this stuff. But honestly, despite my interest in schoolyard lore (glances at his collection of Opie) this is a bit far out of my wheelhouse. Especially when there’s poems by ghosts, specters, fairies, and other supernaturals to work on, not to mention courtesans. And, yanno, the rest of 3TP.
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
Subject quote from Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Pink Floyd.
Well, not so much. This was an object lesson in language drift and being careful with idioms—these aren’t songs from the nursery but chants from the playground.
Which, yes, were collected and preserved. There’s a long tradition of collecting folksongs: scholar-officials were interested because they believed, following Confucius, folksongs measured the mood of the common people and so the health of the realm. The Han Dynasty had an imperial department devoted to collecting adult folksongs, in the style that came to be called yuefu (“music bureau”) after the department. I didn’t figure out these were more of the same till I’d already picked four at random and started translating them.
These all have a historical moment attached by the editors or their sources, so I’ll put them in chronological order.
Children’s Rhyme of 682
In the Seventh Month of 682, there was heavy rainfall in Luoyang and many people starved to death. At this time, a children’s rhyme went:
Fresh rice did not go in the basket,
Fresh wheat did not go on the floor—
And when the Eighth and Ninth Months came
The dog barked in the empty yard.
永淳中童谣
〈永淳元年七月，东都大雨，人多殍殕，先是童谣曰。〉
新禾不入箱，
新麦不入场。
迨及八九月，
狗吠空垣墙。
As nicely gruesome as anything from Mother Goose. Lost in translation: the “floor” is specifically the threshing floor.
Children’s Rhyme of the Time of Empress Wu
A long skirt layered red and green—
A thousand li, ten-thousand li, it still smells sweet.
武后时童谣
红绿复裙长，
千里万里犹香。
Wu Zetian controlled the reins of government from 665 to 690 as empress consort then empress dowager before taking the throne herself as empress regnant 690-705. I suspect the poem refers to public events or gossip I’m ignorant of.
Both Ends Vermilion Children’s Rhyme
It’s just one chopstick,
Both ends vermilion—
In five or six months,
It’s worn smooth.
This is a ballad of Zhu Ci, in the aftermath of his defeat and death in the Sixth Month (of 784).
两头朱童谣
一只箸，
两头朱，
五六月
化为胆。
〈此为朱泚谣也，后果于六月兵败而死〉
This has a double-meaning, thanks to puns. Zhu Ci, whose surname (朱) literally means vermilion, was a general in charge of the Chang’an defenses who was implicated by the rebellion of his brother Zhu Tao and in self-defense declared himself emperor, with his brother as crown prince. His pretendership was defeated in the Sixth Month of 784. The original meaning, as in back in Old Chinese, of 胆 was “smooth” (it’s used in that sense in Classic of Rites), but by the Han Dynasty its primary meaning had shifted to the modern one of “gallbladder” and thence “gall” itself, in both the literal and metaphoric senses gall has in English. With that reading, we get the alternate version:
It’s just one chopstick,
Two heads Zhu—
In Fifth and Sixth Month,
They’ve got gall.
Very schoolyard to pun like this.
Children’s Rhyme of 866
The grasses green, so green,
Covered with heavy frost—
The magpie who was nesting
Keeps looking all around distraught.
咸通七年童谣
草青青，
被严霜。
鹊始巢，
复看颠狂。
Another where I’ve no idea of the historical context—an editorial note would be nice. Potential double-meaning: 青青 “green-green” can describe someone as fresh-faced and/or very young, and a heavy frost can refer to stern parental authority. No clue about the magpie, though.
That was interesting, and I hope somewhere out there social historians are mining this stuff. But honestly, despite my interest in schoolyard lore (glances at his collection of Opie) this is a bit far out of my wheelhouse. Especially when there’s poems by ghosts, specters, fairies, and other supernaturals to work on, not to mention courtesans. And, yanno, the rest of 3TP.
---L.
Index of Chinese translations
Subject quote from Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Pink Floyd.
no subject
Date: 31 May 2023 12:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 31 May 2023 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 31 May 2023 04:08 am (UTC)Which I learned from my Mom.