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lnhammerWith berries red as well as green,
Like flowers blossoming again.
Should a guest stop within the mountains,
I could use these dogwood cups.
The scent of the wind a confusion of spices,
Cloth leaves in gaps between the hardwoods.
Overcast—though the light will return,
The forest sinks as if naturally cold.
茱萸沜
结实红且绿，
复如花更开。
山中傥留客，
置此茱萸杯。
飘香乱椒桂，
布叶间檀栾。
云日虽回照，
森沈犹自寒。
The dogwood 茱萸 is specifically Chinese cornel dogwood (Cornus officinalis), and Pei plays with this by deliberately confusing it with 椒桂, which apparently is a kind of pepper-tree (specifically, an ailanthus-like prickly ash, Zanthoxylum ailanthoides) more commonly known as 食茱萸, literally “edible dogwood” because of its similar berries. Because Pei further plays with tree names (椒桂 can also be read as “pepper and cassia,” set as a direct parallel to 檀栾, the same “sandalwood and goldenrain” hardwoods of Wang’s #4) I duck the issue in his poem with “spices.” This is the first pair where Pei’s poem was harder to grasp and render than Wang’s. It’s also the first where Pei’s is the more pessimistic. Hmm.
(In Wang’s line 4, my base text has 芙蓉 hibiscus or lotus, which makes No Sense In Context, but records 茱萸 dogwood as an alternate reading that I am gratefully accepting.)
---L.
Like flowers blossoming again.
Should a guest stop within the mountains,
I could use these dogwood cups.
The scent of the wind a confusion of spices,
Cloth leaves in gaps between the hardwoods.
Overcast—though the light will return,
The forest sinks as if naturally cold.
茱萸沜
结实红且绿，
复如花更开。
山中傥留客，
置此茱萸杯。
飘香乱椒桂，
布叶间檀栾。
云日虽回照，
森沈犹自寒。
The dogwood 茱萸 is specifically Chinese cornel dogwood (Cornus officinalis), and Pei plays with this by deliberately confusing it with 椒桂, which apparently is a kind of pepper-tree (specifically, an ailanthus-like prickly ash, Zanthoxylum ailanthoides) more commonly known as 食茱萸, literally “edible dogwood” because of its similar berries. Because Pei further plays with tree names (椒桂 can also be read as “pepper and cassia,” set as a direct parallel to 檀栾, the same “sandalwood and goldenrain” hardwoods of Wang’s #4) I duck the issue in his poem with “spices.” This is the first pair where Pei’s poem was harder to grasp and render than Wang’s. It’s also the first where Pei’s is the more pessimistic. Hmm.
(In Wang’s line 4, my base text has 芙蓉 hibiscus or lotus, which makes No Sense In Context, but records 茱萸 dogwood as an alternate reading that I am gratefully accepting.)
---L.