![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(Before diving into Meng Haoran, a break for one more by Wang Wei: a narrative that’s always struck my fancy—when I first read this anthology in translation, this was, after Song of Lasting Regret, the poem that stuck with me most. It’s easier to understand than SLR, not to mention only a quarter its length, so I’ll drop it here entire instead of in installments.)
A fishing boat sailed up the water, charmed by the mountain spring—
The peaches blooming on both banks, an old ford in between.
Entranced by seeing red, red trees, he didn’t note how far
And traveled to the green creek’s end, not seeing anyone.
He went into a hidden gap that’s folded in the cliff,
And when the mountain opened wide, he saw a long, flat plain.
Far off he saw there was a place where mingled clouds and trees—
Up close he found a thousand homes, spread through bamboo and flowers.
A woodcutter told the visitor they still had Han-style names—
These men outside the world wore clothes unchanged in cut since Qin.
These men outside the world resided at the Wuling’s source,
Together away from the world beyond, tending their fields and gardens—
Where when the moon was bright on the pines, each shuttered house was hushed,
And when day broke amid the clouds, chickens and dogs were noisy.
Startled to hear of a worldly guest, they gathered all around:
Each sought to draw him to their home, and asked about his town.
At daybreak, in the hamlet’s lanes, they swept the fallen flowers;
At dusk, woodcutters and fishers came in, riding upon the stream.
In order to escape the world, they left the realm of men—
They then became immortals here, so hadn’t yet returned.
Within this valley, no one knew about the deeds of men—
Out in the world, who looked from far saw empty clouds and peaks.
Not guessing that this spirit land was hard to see or hear,
With worldly dust still in his heart, his thoughts returned to home:
He left by the cave, not noticing the hills and streams he passed.
Eventually he left his home, planning a leisurely trip:
He told himself he’d gone before and would not be confused.
Who knew that now the peaks and gorges utterly had changed?
He only recalled that at that time he entered deep in the mountains
By many twists of that green creek, then found the cloudy forest.
Spring had come, and those peach blossoms scattered on the waters.
He could not find the immortal source—how could 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？
This is a verse retelling of a utopian fantasy story by Tao Qian, a Six-Dynasties-period poet that Wang Wei namechecked in #115. Knowledge of the original is needed for understanding Wang’s title, as it’s literally “peach spring ballad” without the “-blossom” of the source. It was a famous and popular tale, though, and I’ve already translated two poems (#229 and #262) that reference it. According to local legends, this took place near the headwaters of the Wuling River, not far from Changde, Hunan.
Timeline: The implication is the people came to the valley to escape the civil wars during the transition between the Qin and Han dynasties, around 200 BCE. Tao Qian wrote his story c. 400 CE, during a time of extended strife. Wang Wei wrote this version in the first half of the 8th century, during the peaceful golden age of Xuanzong’s reign, focusing not on the refuge but the spiritual states of the hidden people and the fisherman.
I’m not sure ballad is the best translation of the “old verse form” sense of 行, but this is from the section of “folk-song-style” poems and the term seems to be typically used for pathetic narratives. In any case, the language is not particularly dense, as befits a folk-song, so I went with a 7-beat line with a 4+3 ballad rhythm. [tries to not think about singing it to “The Ballad of Gilligan’s Isle”] [fails] [flails] It’d not be hard to make this version rhyme (in the original, it’s the even lines in pairs), but my first attempts sounded like cod-balladry so I dropped it for now. Regardless, it could use some polishing, but not bad for a first draft. Maybe I’ll try revising it to 6-beat lines.
---L.
A fishing boat sailed up the water, charmed by the mountain spring—
The peaches blooming on both banks, an old ford in between.
Entranced by seeing red, red trees, he didn’t note how far
And traveled to the green creek’s end, not seeing anyone.
He went into a hidden gap that’s folded in the cliff,
And when the mountain opened wide, he saw a long, flat plain.
Far off he saw there was a place where mingled clouds and trees—
Up close he found a thousand homes, spread through bamboo and flowers.
A woodcutter told the visitor they still had Han-style names—
These men outside the world wore clothes unchanged in cut since Qin.
These men outside the world resided at the Wuling’s source,
Together away from the world beyond, tending their fields and gardens—
Where when the moon was bright on the pines, each shuttered house was hushed,
And when day broke amid the clouds, chickens and dogs were noisy.
Startled to hear of a worldly guest, they gathered all around:
Each sought to draw him to their home, and asked about his town.
At daybreak, in the hamlet’s lanes, they swept the fallen flowers;
At dusk, woodcutters and fishers came in, riding upon the stream.
In order to escape the world, they left the realm of men—
They then became immortals here, so hadn’t yet returned.
Within this valley, no one knew about the deeds of men—
Out in the world, who looked from far saw empty clouds and peaks.
Not guessing that this spirit land was hard to see or hear,
With worldly dust still in his heart, his thoughts returned to home:
He left by the cave, not noticing the hills and streams he passed.
Eventually he left his home, planning a leisurely trip:
He told himself he’d gone before and would not be confused.
Who knew that now the peaks and gorges utterly had changed?
He only recalled that at that time he entered deep in the mountains
By many twists of that green creek, then found the cloudy forest.
Spring had come, and those peach blossoms scattered on the waters.
He could not find the immortal source—how could 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？
This is a verse retelling of a utopian fantasy story by Tao Qian, a Six-Dynasties-period poet that Wang Wei namechecked in #115. Knowledge of the original is needed for understanding Wang’s title, as it’s literally “peach spring ballad” without the “-blossom” of the source. It was a famous and popular tale, though, and I’ve already translated two poems (#229 and #262) that reference it. According to local legends, this took place near the headwaters of the Wuling River, not far from Changde, Hunan.
Timeline: The implication is the people came to the valley to escape the civil wars during the transition between the Qin and Han dynasties, around 200 BCE. Tao Qian wrote his story c. 400 CE, during a time of extended strife. Wang Wei wrote this version in the first half of the 8th century, during the peaceful golden age of Xuanzong’s reign, focusing not on the refuge but the spiritual states of the hidden people and the fisherman.
I’m not sure ballad is the best translation of the “old verse form” sense of 行, but this is from the section of “folk-song-style” poems and the term seems to be typically used for pathetic narratives. In any case, the language is not particularly dense, as befits a folk-song, so I went with a 7-beat line with a 4+3 ballad rhythm. [tries to not think about singing it to “The Ballad of Gilligan’s Isle”] [fails] [flails] It’d not be hard to make this version rhyme (in the original, it’s the even lines in pairs), but my first attempts sounded like cod-balladry so I dropped it for now. Regardless, it could use some polishing, but not bad for a first draft. Maybe I’ll try revising it to 6-beat lines.
---L.