Chinese 323 Reflections on History (2)

 

Bo Juyi/Bai Juyi/Po Chü-yi (772-846)

"Song of Everlasting Sorrow"

 

The emperor prized beauty, and longed for a woman to topple a kingdom,

Through a reign of many years he searched without obtaining her.

There was a girl of the Yang family, just about grown,

Who had been reared in the inner chambers--no one knew of her yet,

She had beauty and charms granted by Heaven, difficult to conceal,

And so one day was chosen to be the concubine of her sovereign.

A glance exchanged, a single smile; she showed a hundred charms,

The painted beauties of his Six Palaces seemed to have no allure.

In the cold of early spring she bathed in the Flower-Clear Pool,

The warm spring's water polished her skin translucent white and glossy smooth.

A servant helped her up; she was graceful, so helplessly languid--

That was the first time the emperor bestowed his favor on her.

Her clouds of hair, her lovely face, her swaying, gold-shod steps,

Within hibiscus canopies they passed their spring nights in warmth.

The spring nights seemed very short, the sun would rise high;

But from that time His Majesty would not attend the early court.

They took their pleasure at feasts and entertainments without pause,

The spring came, and passed on a night followed night.

There were three thousand other beauties in the women's palace;

For him, all their three thousand charms were combined in one body.

In the golden room, her toilette complete, she seductively attended him all night,

In the jade tower, the feasting finished, she harmonized with spring delights.

Her sisters and brothers were all given rank and titles;

Lovable glory reflected on her family.

And so throughout the empire the hearts of mothers and fathers

Did not value the birth of a boy, but valued that of a girl.

In the upper stories of Li Palace, piercing the blue sky,

Fairy music wafted on the wind, to be heard everywhere,

Slow-paced songs and languorous dances were played by strings and flutes:

Though he gaze all day, His Majesty could not gaze on her enough.

Then the war-drums from the Yuyang camp, shaking the earth,

Abruptly breaking off the songs of the "Rainbow Skirt" and the "Robe of Feathers."

The Nine Rings of the Forbidden City threw up smoke and dust,

Thousands mounted, ten thousand in carts moved off to the southwest.

The Imperial banner fluttered, then its movement stopped

West of the city gates more than a hundred li.

There the Six Armies refused to budge, no matter what the cost,

Until he yielded his moth-browed beauty to die before the horses.

Hairpins like flowers flung to the ground, with no one to catch them,

A kingfisher crown, golden birds and hair tassels of jade.

The emperor could only cover his face; he was unable to save her.

Looking back, the blood and tears were flowing together.

The yellow dust dispersed, the wind blew cold,

The trail in the clouds twisted around to climb the Jian'ge Pass.

Under Emei Mountain a few people passed,

Without light, the day-bright colors of flags and pennants faded.

The water of the Shu River is green, Shu Mountain is blue:

The Emperor, day after day, night after night, grieved.

Pacing the palace, he looked at the moon, his wounded heart full of longing,

In the night rain he heard bells, but his feelings cut off their sounds.

Heaven and Earth swung 'round again, and the dragon-cart returned,

When they came to that spot he hesitated, and could not go on.

She was in the earth under the Mawei Slope,

He could not see her jade face--the place where she died was empty.

Lord and courtier, when they met, would soak their clothes with tears,

Looking east to the city gates, they trusted their horses to know their way back.

When they returned, the pools and parks were as in the olden days,

Hibiscus from Lake Taiyi, and Weiyang Palace willows.

The hibiscus were like her face, the willows like her brows,

So when he looked at them, how could he help but weep?

In the spring wind the peaches and plums blossomed with the days,

In the autumn rains the wutong trees shed their leaves in season.

The West Palace and the Southern Enclosure were full of autumn grasses,

Falling leaves covered the stairs with red, and were not swept away.

The attendants of the Pear Garden, their white hair was new,

The Pepper House eunuchs' young eyebrows began to show their age.

Fireflies flew in the evening halls; he thought quietly of her,

The wick in his lonely lamp burnt out, and yet he would not sleep.

Slowly, slowly, the bells and drums began each long night,

Brighter, brighter the Milky Way, urging the sky to dawn.

The roof-tile mandarin ducks were cold, the frost was bright and thick,

His kingfisher-feather covers were cold, for who was to be with him?

His thoughts were on the distance between life and death, year after year without end,

But her spirit would not return, or come to enter his dreams.

A Taoist adept of Lingjun was a voyager in the heavens

Able because of his devout conviction to contact spirits.

Moved by their sovereign's constant torment of longing,

Some sought out this adept to search diligently for her.

He marshaled the clouds and drove ether before him, quick as lightening,

Up in the sky, down into the earth, he looked for her everywhere.

He rose to the end of the jade-green sky, he plumbed the Yellow Springs,

In both places, look as he might, he did not see her.

Suddenly he heard of a mountain of immortals in the sea,

The mountain was in the misty realm of emptiness.

Splendid towers and gates rose up from the five-color clouds,

And in the midst of these delights there were many immortals.

Among them was one called "Most Genuine,"

With snowy skin, a flower face, who could be compared with her?

At the gold towers on the west side he knocked on the jade door,

And asked a little jade attendant to inform the one of the paired perfections.

When she heard the Chinese court had sent an envoy from the Emperor,

She was awakened from her dreams in her nine-flowered canopied bed.

Pushing aside her pillow, she dressed and rose like a flying swallow,

Rushed over to open the pearly door and the silver screen.

New-wakened from sleep, her cloud of hair tilted to one side,

Her flower cap was not set straight when she came down to the courtyard.

The wind sighed in her immortal sleeves and raised them up in dancing,

As if this were the dance of the "Rainbow" and the "Robe of Feathers."

On her jade face from loneliness the tears trickled down,

Like pear blossoms on a branch when the spring brings down the rain.

She restrained her emotions, calmed her eyes and thanked the emperor:

"Since we parted your voice and face are both dim,

Cut off was our happy love in the Court of the Bright Sun,

And the long days and nights in Penglai Palace.

But when I turn my head to gaze down at the mortal world,

I can never see Chang'an, but only fog and dust."

She gave the envoy the old things that were pledges of their love,

A golden hairpin in its case she gave him to take away;

But of the hairpin she kept one branch, of the box she kept one half,

Breaking the hairpin's yellow gold and the hinges of the box.

"Tell him our love should be as whole as this hairpin and its case--

In heaven or in the world of men we will meet again."

About to part, she charged him further to take these words,

In these words was meaning only their two hearts knew:

"On the seventh day of the seventh month, in the Palace of Long Life,

At midnight, with no one else there, we exchanged our vow:

That in the heavens we wished to fly, two birds with joined wings,

And on earth we wished to grow, two trees with branches entwined."

Heaven endures, earth's span is long, but sometimes both will end--

This sorrow everlasting will go on forever.\

 

Zhu Yizun/Chu Yi-tsun (1629-1709)

"Crossing Dayu Mountain Ridge"

 

Straight up against the clouds above the ridge, stands the awesome pass alone;

Along the post road, plum blossoms tell of months and years long gone.

A temple to the Prime Minister keeps company with solitude;

The palace of the King of Yue is forever rank with weeds.

From days of yore, no wild geese from the north ever come here;

From this time forth, flying south, only the cuckoo birds.

I turn away in sorrow from a second look at my native land;

Jumbled hills and a setting sun obscure my long way home.

 

*Located on the border between Jiangxi and Guangdong, proverbially the demarcation line between the Central Plain and the South, said to be unreachable by the migrating wild geese. Dayu ridge was named after the Han general Yu Sheng who conquered Nan Yue, and the mountain was best known for its many flowering plum trees.

Line 3: Built in memory of the Tang poet Zhang Jiuling/Chang Chiu-ling (673-740), the leading poet in the Kaiyuan era, who served as prime minister.

Line 6: The bird's cry sounds like bu ru gui qu, which translates "Why not go home."

 

 

Wang Shizhen/Wang Shih-chen (1634-1711)

"Crossing the River at Guanyin Gate* after Rain"

 

Light sails set and swelling breach the clearing evening sky;

The cold river is dim and still; the ebbing tide is calm.

Shrouded in rain, the hills of Wu vanish here and there;

Along the stream, the fires of Chu are lit up one by one.

Famous men are still remembered by Feather Fan Crossing;

In stepping songs is ever lamented the fall of Stone Wall Fort.

Of Southern courts there are heartbreaking histories beyond all count;

Sad and mournful, the sound of jade flutes over the Qinhuai.

 

*North of Jiangning, Jiangsu province, an important garrison town.

Line 5: Referring to the victory of the Qin dynasty general Gu Rung who used a fan made of feathers to direct his troops.

Line 8: The present-day Nanjing was the capital of many dynasties, such as the Kingdom of Wu (222-80), Eastern Jin (317-420), Liu Song (420-477), Southern Qi (477-502), Liang (502-557), and Chen (557-581). The river Qinhuai flows by this city to join the Yangzi, and the area along both banks of this tributary was famous in the old days as a bustling entertainment district.

 

 

Zhao Yi/Chao Yi (1727-1814)

"The Red Cliff"

 

Even today this natural barrier commands the Jingxiang region;

Before Red Cliff Mountain, ancient ramparts stretch on and on.

But where "the magpie flies south" is no longer the land of Wei;

And where "the Great River flows east we think of the young Lord Zhou--

A man for a thousand ages, from a tripartite kingdom;

An expanse of hills and rivers, the field of a hundred battles.

Now, passing by, we see only the vestiges of the past;

Under a bright moon, a fisherman sings the song "Blue Waves."

 

*Chibi, the Red Cliff, situated along the middle reaches of the Yangtze in modern Hubei province, was commonly believed to be the scene of a decisive battle fought in the winter of A.D. 208. At this battle, the power of Cao Cao in the north was crushed by the naval forces of Wu under the command of Zhou Yu, a young aristocrat related by marriage to the ruling house of Wu. The first half of line 3 is a direct quote from a poem by Cao Cao, "A Short Song" (Duange xing), and line 4 contains a quotation from a famous lyric by the Song poet Su Shi on the subject.

Line 8: The song of the "Blue Waves" (Canglang) identifies an ancient folk song quoted both in Mencius and in the "Fisherman" poem in the Chuci, or Songs of the South. The text reads:

When the waters of the Canglang are clear, I wash my tassels in them;

When the waters of the Canglang are muddy, I wash my feet in them.

 

 

Kang Yuwei/K'ang Yu-wei (1858-1927)

"Visiting Mount Vernon and Paying Homage at George Washington's Burial Vault"

 

Swiftly flows the emerald Potomac River;

In front of Mount Vernon, lush grass and fragrant trees.

Fondling his sword and clothing, I admire this sage-hero;

From these lovely hills and streams, earth sprouts a young culture.

His modest cottage recalls for me the steps before the grave of Yao;

The clouds from the Cave of Yu hover over the grave where he rests.

Declining to be a monarch, he made known his abundant virtue;

Democracy for myriad ages will celebrate these Three Sacred Mounds.