In ancient China, many poets expressed reflections on the past and often lamented the passage of time through their poetry. The four following poems span over nearly a thousand years, and all revolve around this central theme.
Painted Zither (锦瑟) 作者:李商隐 (Author: Li Shangying, 9th century) 锦瑟无端五十弦,Painted zither without reason 50 strings 一弦一柱思华年。one string one bridge feel flowering year 庄生晓梦迷蝴蝶,Master Zhuang dawn dream confuse butterfly 望帝春心托杜鹃。Emperor Wang spring heart entrust cuckoo 沧海月明珠有泪,Blue sea moon bright pearl has tears 蓝田日暖玉生烟。Indigo field sun warm jade emit smoke 此情可待成追忆,this feeling can wait become recall 只是当时已惘然。only is this time already lost
Translation: There’s no reason for me to have this painted zither, with all its fifty strings. And yet, each string, each post reminds me of my youth. Still dreaming in the morning, the Taoist thought he might be a butterfly. The ruined king gave his springtime heart away to a cuckoo bird. The moon shone on the dark blue sea, and mermaids’ tears turned into pearls. The sun warmed the blue-field mountain, and the jade gave rise to its misty spirit. One day all these feelings could turn into memories, But already I’m confused, lost in the passage of time.
遣怀 Dispelling Sorrow 杜牧 (Author: Du Mu, 9th century) 落魄江南载酒行, fall soul river south carry wine walk 楚腰肠断掌中轻。 Chu waist intestinal break palm inside light 十年一觉扬州梦, ten years one sleep Yangzhou dream 赢得青楼薄幸名。 win get blue building light favor reputation
Translation: I grew so downhearted in the Southern Land, Wandering with a bottle of wine And breaking my heart over those slim waisted Chu girls The ones who could dance in the palm of your hand Ten years later I wake from my dream of Yang Zhou And all I’ve won for myself is the reputation Of a man who can’t be trusted in Blue Buildings
木兰花 Magnolia Flower 晏殊 (Author: Yan Shu, 11th century) 燕鸿过后莺归去, swallow geese pass after orioles return go 细算浮生千万绪。 careful calculation uncertain life thousand ten thousand thread 长于春梦几多时? long compare spring dream several many time 散似秋云无觅处。 scatter similar to autumn wind no find place 闻琴解佩神仙侣, hear zither untie wear deity immortal couple 挽断罗衣留不住。 pull break silk clothes can’t stop leaving 劝君莫作独醒人, advise you not be along awake person 烂醉花间应有数。 exhausted drunk flower among should have count/number
Translation: The swallows and the geese have left, And now the orioles are gone too. It is so hard to understand this drifting life With its thousand, ten thousand threads of meaning. Was my past any longer than a spring-time dream? It scattered like the autumn clouds. No place to find it. Hear the zither, untie the goddess’ jewel. I could clutch her silk clothes until they tore But I still can’t stop time. I advise you not to be the only one awake. Join the rest of us ― and drink to oblivion among the flowers.
Accidental Sight (偶见) 作者:徐祯卿 (by Xu Zhenqing, 15th or 16th century) 深山曲路见桃花,Deep mountain twist road see peach blossom 马上匆匆日欲斜。horse up hurry, hurry, sun will slanting 可奈玉鞭留不住,however helpless jade whip stay not stop 又衔春恨到天涯 again carry spring sadness arrive sky edge
Translation: Deep in the mountain, the road bends ― I see peach blossoms. But the sun will soon set; I hurry my horse onward Oh, I would stop time if I could, with my jade-handled whip. Once again I carry the sadness of spring, all the way to the edge of the sky.
Translation notes:
The first poem was written by Li Shangyin, a poem living during the late Tang dynasty. The poem could potentially yield many different translations and interpretations. We chose to emphasize its personal nature by using the first person, particularly in the first two lines which many scholars believe refer to the death of the poet’s wife. If we adopt this interpretation, the final couplet of the poem unmistakably reflects the poet's sorrow over the passage of time, his reminiscences of his affection for his wife, and the ineffable nature of life.
By not explaining the stories behind many of the allusions, we also kept the focus on the poem’s mood. We did, however, substitute the general term “Taoist” for the specifically named Taoist “Master Zhuang Zhou” because we believed that this small change would be enough to remind most Western readers of the story of the monk who woke from a dream about being a butterfly. We also substituted “Ruined king” for Emperor Wang, again because we assumed that most Western readers would not know who Wang was but would get the idea being conveyed with the words “Ruined king.”
Choosing the word “ruined” meant that we chose what we thought was the legend that Li Shang-yin most likely wanted to associate with Wang. Wang was replaced by his prime minister, and some people believe the story that the throne was awarded to the prime minister in gratitude for his good works. The more probable and more widely believed version is that the king was overthrown and the usurper invented the face-saving story to cover his treason. Legend has it that the king transformed himself into a cuckoo bird at death and that he can still be heard calling. Since the cuckoo bird’s cries are associated with blood in a very negative metaphor, the reference to the cuckoo bird makes our negative interpretation of the reference to Wang more likely.
The title of this poem is more commonly translated as “The Brocade Zither,” which is an equally valid translation, indicating that the zither is painted so that it resembles brocade. John Turner translates the 4th line as “The king that sighed his soul into a bird.” We think that "sighed his soul” captures the idea of “entrusted his springtime heart,” but we believe that it is important to use words like “ruined” and “cuckoo” to reference the legend. We also think that it is better to use the active form of the verb both to make the line parallel to the previous one and to give the line greater immediacy. It is likely that Turner chose “The king that sighed” so that he could translate the poem into iambic pentameter, thus suggesting, somewhat, the rhythm of the original, which we have not done.
The final couplet seems to be the one that is translated in the greatest variety of ways. Stephen Johnson writes, “Such thoughts are cherished with remembering/though at the time they had me most perplexed.” Johnson’s version is more hopeful than ours, implying that the poet has now come to a more mature understanding of the feelings that confused him in his youth and is able to value them. In the workbook for How to Read Chinese Poetry, the lines are translated as “This feeling, one can wait for it to become a recollection/only at the time it was already bewildering.” We like the hesitancy implied in “This feeling, one can wait . . .” which reinforces the dream-like nature of the poem. This translation clearly delineates past and future as does Johnson’s version, while our version remains firmly rooted in the present with only the hope of a different future. The differences in our translations speak to a very important characteristic of classical Chinese poems: there is often little, if any, indication of whether they should be read in the past/present/future tense. This ambiguity can be used to deliberately create a sense of timelessness, and it can also be a way to allow the reader to participate more fully in the poem by giving him the opportunity to view the events in more than one way. The way we have chosen emphasizes the ongoing confusion and despair of a man whose wife has passed away, but our translation is not more “correct” than these other translations. In reading this poem, it would be very worthwhile to consider what you think is meant by the final two lines.
Both the second and third poems incorporate the theme of "dream" and link it to lamenting the passage of time. In the second poem, Du Mu regards his time in Yangzhou as resembling a "dream," while in the third poem, Yan Shu views his past as nothing more than a "spring-time dream." The readers can distinctly feel the regret expressed in the poems, the lamentation regarding the swift passage of time and the perceived meaninglessness of the poets' lives.
The author of the second poem, Du Mu, was born into an elite family, and held various provincial posts in different locales over his career. However, he never achieved a high-ranking position in court, and this poem is considered one of those which he implicitly showed his disappointment over his government career. The first line of the poem implies a dark note of despair as Du Mu clearly indicates that his soul “falls down” when he was at the South of the River. The second line refers to two Chinese legends. One is about the King of Chu favoring girls of slim waists. In elite circles, slender female bodies were so admired that some palace girls even starved to death when trying to lose weight. The second one is about Zhao Feiyan, a famous beauty who was so slim that she could dance on a man’s palm. These legends were used to demonstrate the beauty and slenderness of the prostitutes in the blue buildings in Yangzhou with whom Du Mu has spent time. However, when Du Mu looked back, he was regretful of his time spent in Yangzhou, which is reflected by the third and fourth line of the poem.
Yan Shu, the author of the third poem, was a poet and politician during the Northern Song Dynasty. He was a child prodigy, and passed the imperial exam when he was only 14. He rose to high-ranking posts at the court and once served as prime minister to Emperor Renzong. The content of this poem seems to suggest that the poet is lamenting the inevitable parting of lovers. However, this poem was written during a time when the emperor, who was not decisive in character, took advice from Yan Shu’s political rivals, and banished a couple of Yan Shu’s political allies. Considering the time when this poem was written, it is probably a reflection of Yan’s disappointment over the political environment at that time.
The fifth line refers to two Chinese legends. One is about Zhuo Wenjun, a female poet who lived in the Han Dynasty. She heard Sima Xiangru playing the zither when he was a guest at her parents’ home, and she eloped with him afterwards. The second one is about a man who encountered two female deities who untied their jewels and gave them to the man, only to find that both the jewels and the deities disappeared afterwards. In the sixth line, the poem is not specific as to what the poet wishes to stop, but in the context of the first four lines, we thought that “time” probably best expressed his intent.
The fourth and last poem in this article was written by Xu Zhenqing, a famous writer in the Ming Dynasty and one of the four great talents in the South of the Ming Dynasty during that time. He is also renowned for his achievements in calligraphy. The first two lines are translated in a deliberately choppy manner to reflect the suddenness of the peach blossoms, the poet’s hesitation, and then his onward rush. The words in the second line, “sun will slanting,” tell us that the sun is going down and that it’s near enough to the horizon to send slanting rays. The poem is not specific as to what the poet wishes to stop, but in the context of the setting sun and the sadness of spring, we thought that “time” best expressed his intent.