Larry's Pretty Good Poetry Journal

(A repost with significant revisions.)

Only we who are posted far from home
Are so surprised by these fresh signs of the season:
White clouds, red clouds—dawn sets out from the sea ...
Plum trees and willows—spring moves across the river ...
The lovely weather prompts the oriole ...
The clearing sunlight turns the duckweed green ...
Then suddenly I hear an old song’s tune
And think of home, wanting to dry my tears.

和晋陵路丞早春游望
独有宦游人，
偏惊物候新。
云霞出海曙，
梅柳渡江春。
淑气催黄鸟，
晴光转绿苹。
忽闻歌古调，
归思欲沾巾。

The “matching” game is replying to a previous poem using the same rhyme words (which, as a reminder, are all the even lines for this form), also sometimes called “harmonizing” with it. In this case, the first poem is lost. Written in the extreme south, while in exile-by-provincial-demotion in what’s now northern Vietnam. Idiom: dry my eyes is literally “wet a cloth.” (The poet, a founder of the Tang style as we know it, also happens to have been the grandfather of Du Fu.)

---L.

Yan grasses are like threads of jade,
Qin mulberries bend their branches green—
My lord now thinks of his day of return,
A time of heartbreak for this one.
Spring breeze, we do not know each other
So why blow into my gauze curtains?

春思
燕草如碧丝，
秦桑低绿枝；
当君怀归日，
是妾断肠时。
春风不相识，
何事入罗帏？

I wanted something short to prime my well—there’s a few more six-line poems left in case I need more. Yan is the frontier north and east of modern Beijing and Qin is the capital region of modern Shaanxi. The speaker uses a humble female first-person pronoun, and as much of the time where there’s any remotely erotic context, the operative connotation of spring is wanton.

---L.

Catch her shadow, hear her voice—you’re already charmed.
In the jade pool, the lotus leaves are laid out straight.
Unless you meet Xiaoshi, don’t turn your head around;
You cannot see Hongya again to tap his shoulder.
The violet phoenix is coquettish, pendant in beak;
The red fish-scales dance wildly, plucking zither strings.
Prince E was disappointed in his boat at night
And slept alone beneath embroidered quilts with incense.

二
对影闻声已可怜，
玉池荷叶正田田。
不逢萧史休回首，
莫见洪崖又拍肩。
紫凤放娇衔楚佩，
赤鳞狂舞拨湘弦。
鄂君怅望舟中夜，
绣被焚香独自眠。

The woman is in her bedroom with her lover—the phoenix (this time a female one) is her, the fish him. Xiaoshi and Hongya are historical references, both heroic comparisons to the lover, and the story about Prince E involves nostalgia for a past assignation.

---L.

A day's work gives a rough draft, but that's good enough to post here:


Sigh and sigh, and sigh again—
Mulan is weaving at the door.
You cannot hear the sound of the loom,
But only hear a woman sighing.
Ask the woman, Who do you think of?
Ask the woman, Who do you long for?
She's not thinking of anyone,
She's not longing for anyone.
"Last night I saw the conscription notice—
The Khan is mustering many troops.
There are twelve scrolls in the army rolls
And scroll after scroll has my father's name.
My father has no grown-up son
And Mulan has no older brother.
I want buy a saddle and horse
And henceforth serve in my father's place."

She bought a fine steed in the eastern market,
Bought saddle and tack in the western market,
Bought bridle and reins in the southern market,
And bought a long whip in the northern market.
Morning, it's farewell to father and mother—
Sunset, it's camp by the Yellow River.
She doesn't hear father and mother calling her name
But horses splashing in the flowing Yellow River.
Dawn, it's farewell to the Yellow River—
Sunset, arrive at the Black Mountain peaks.
She doesn't hear father and mother calling her name
But the sound of Hu mounts neighing from Yan Hills.

Thousands of miles, they go to war—
Forts and mountains, they pass as if flying.
The north air carries clangs of the watches,
The cold sun shines on iron armor.
A hundred battles, the general dead—
After ten years, the heroes return.

Returning, they meet the Son of Heaven,
The Son of Heaven in his Bright Hall.
The scrolls of merit unroll twelve times,
Rewards bestowed in hundreds and thousands.
The Khan asks her what she desires:
"Mulan doesn't need an official position,
Just desires a mount that can gallop a thousand miles
And take back this son to his hometown."

When father and mother hear daughter is coming
They leave the town walls holding hands.
When older sister hears sister is coming
She stands by the door adjusting red clothes.
When younger brother hears sister is coming
He quickly sharpens the knife for the pigs and sheep.
"I open the gate of my eastern chamber,
I sit inside my western bedroom,
Then I remove my battle gown
And I put on my former skirt."
She tidies her cloud-hair by the window,
She puts on makeup facing the mirror,
Then leaves the door to see her comrades.
Her comrades all are completely surprised.
"We traveled together for twelve long years
But never knew Mulan was a young woman."

The male hare has a fluffy paw,
The female has a narrow eye:
When two run close upon the earth
Who can tell which one is male or female?

木兰辞
唧唧复唧唧，
木兰当户织。
不闻机杼声，
惟闻女叹息。
问女何所思？
问女何所忆？
女亦无所思，
女亦无所忆。
昨夜见军帖，
可汗大点兵。
军书十二卷，
卷卷有爷名。
阿爷无大儿，
木兰无长兄。
愿为市鞍马，
从此替爷征。

东市买骏马，
西市买鞍鞯。
南市买辔头，
北市买长鞭。
朝辞爷娘去，
暮宿黄河边。
不闻爷娘唤女声，
但闻黄河流水鸣溅溅。
旦辞黄河去，
暮至黑山头。
不闻爷娘唤女声，
但闻燕山胡骑声啾啾。

万里赴戎机，
关山度若飞。
朔气传金柝，
寒光照铁衣。
将军百战死，
壮士十年归。

归来见天子，
天子坐明堂。
策勋十二转，
赏赐百千强。
可汗问所欲，
木兰不用尚书郎。
愿驰千里足，
送儿还故乡。

爷娘闻女来，
出郭相扶将。
阿姊闻妹来，
当户理红妆。
小弟闻姊来，
磨刀霍霍向猪羊。
开我东阁门，
坐我西间床。
脱我战时袍，
着我旧时裳。
当窗理云鬓，
对镜贴花黄。
出门看伙伴，
伙伴皆惊惶：
同行十二年，
不知木兰是女郎。

雄兔脚扑朔，
雌兔眼迷离。
两兔傍地走，
安能辨我是雄雌？

First recorded as circulating in the 6th century, during the Northern & Southern Dynasties period, with earliest texts set down in the Tang. The setting is the Northern Wei kingdom (a historical twelve-year campaign starting in 429 is one common guess, but the 12s and 10s tossed about seem echoes for effect rather than precise numbers), which was ruled by a Tuoba clan who were originally nomads from the steppes of Mongolia-and-vicinity (thus the title 可汗 "khan"). The title is given as both 木兰诗 "Poem of Mulan" and 木兰辞 "Ballad of Mulan," and while the former seems to be more common, it feels so so much like an oral ballad. The Black and Yan mountains are in Inner Mongolia and Mongolia proper, respectively.

(Like all oral recensions, there are many variant readings, but I'm not up for any textual analysis so picked a base text and ran with it.)

---L.

But kept one tine of the hairpin and one side of the box—
Breaking the hairpin’s gold, splitting the box’s inlay.
So long as he made his heart as strong as gold and inlay,
In heavens above or human realms, they’ll meet again.
As the time to part approached, she sent another message,
A message with an oath known only in their hearts:
“Upon a Double Seventh in Longevity Hall,
At midnight one time, no one else was there, we whispered,
‘Just as there is in the sky the longed-for bridge of birds,
There is on earth the longed-for trees grown both together.’
Heaven is lasting. Earth endures. Time has no limit.
This regret goes on and on without an end.”

钗留一股合一扇，
钗擘黄金合分钿。
但教心似金钿坚，
天上人间会相见。
临别殷勤重寄词，
词中有誓两心知。
七月七日长生殿，
夜半无人私语时。
在天愿作比翼鸟，
在地愿为连理枝。
天长地久有时尽，
此恨绵绵无绝期。

This time, I think it’s a direct quote, but I’m guessing where exactly it starts and ends. (There are no quotation markers in classical Chinese.) Especially open to interpretation is whether the last two lines are still her talking or the narrator—which makes as big a difference in interpretation as to whether Keats’s Grecian urn says just “Truth is beauty, beauty truth” (as first printed) or the rest of the last lines (as in his manuscript). If she says those lines, the regret is that she cannot fulfil that promise. If the narrator, the regret is probably best understood as sorrow, their joint grieving at their lives together being cut off. Given her apparent distant attitude of the several lines before and the fact that she is now immortal, I’m inclined to the former, even though this means not circling back to the emperor and closing off that thread (or even leaving it open).

Longevity Hall (l.114) is in Hauqing Palace (l.9), which actually does circle us back to the beginning. The Double Seventh Festival (l.114), on the day two separated immortal lovers can meet by a bridge of magpie wings over the river of the Milky Way, was and still is a couples day. If not clear from context, two trees growing together (l.118) so that their branches graft is a symbol of marital fidelity.

And that’s a complete draft. W00t!

---L.

Winds blew immortal sleeves whirling and swirling up
As if she danced to Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes.
Her jade countenance was gloomy, crossed with tears—
A spray of pear blossoms wearing the spring rain.
Full of emotion, she fixed her gaze and told the monarch
That since parting their looks and voices were far apart—

风吹仙袂飘颻举，
犹似霓裳羽衣舞。
玉容寂寞泪阑干，
梨花一枝春带雨。
含情凝睇谢君王，
一别音容两渺茫。

The sleeves do the same dance interrupted by rebellion back in l.32. L.100 is the source of the idiom 梨花帶雨, literally “pear blossoms wearing rain” meaning “tear-stained face of a beauty.” My best reading, this uses indirect quotation for the speech (continued in the next chunk) to be relayed by the shaman, but I'm far from certain about this.

(Man that forth line clunks … but time to set it aside and move on.)

---L.

Where a gorgeous pavilion rose up through five clouds
Within which there were many graceful, charming fairies,
Among them someone who was styled Great Purity
With snowy skin and flower face—it seemed like her.
He knocked upon its west wing’s golden watchtower,
Imploring Xiaoyu to announce him to Shaungcheng.

楼阁玲珑五云起，
其中绰约多仙子。
中有一人字太真，
雪肤花貌参差是。
金阙西厢叩玉扃，
转教小玉报双成。

Yang Guifei’s Daoist name Great Purity came up in #284. In Daoist lore, Xiaoyu (“small jade”) and Shuangcheng (“twice complete”) are two celestial beings (translated here as fairies, with some hesitation—it is a traditional rendering but only a rough correspondence) being repurposed as attendants.

(Three-quarters done.)

---L.

Living and dead were distant, parted by passing years,
And yet her soul had never come to him in dreams.
A Linqiong Daoist priest, a guest in the capital,
Could use his true sincerity to summon spirits.
He was moved that the monarch tossed and turned with yearning
And finally the shaman searched for her in earnest.

悠悠生死别经年，
魂魄不曾来入梦。
临邛道士鸿都客，
能以精诚致魂魄。
为感君王辗转思，
遂教方士殷勤觅。

I’m hesitant about using shaman in l.78: the original has 方士, which can currently mean necromancer as summoner of the dead, but the episode that follows is distinctly shamanistic. I also don’t know what the connotations are of being a Daoist from Sichuan (specifically, near Chengdu). I can’t help thinking it wasn’t so much sympathy as sycophanty that made him undertake the ritual.

—L.

Spring winds removed at night the blossoms of plums and peaches,
The autumn rains scattered in season the wutong leaves—
West Palace and South Park had many withered plants,
Palace leaves filled up the stairs with unswept red—
Imperial opera singers now had hair gone white,
The empress’s attendants’ youthful looks were aged.

春风桃李花开夜，
秋雨梧桐叶落时。
西宫南苑多秋草，
宫叶满阶红不扫。
梨园弟子白发新，
椒房阿监青娥老。

Onward. West Palace and South Park are Taiji and Xingqing palaces, just outside Chang’an, where Xuanzong (in history, now retired after abdicating in favor of his son Suzong) initially stayed after the court returned to the capital. (They were both recently built, making them gaps in the Han Dynasty fig-leafing.) Idiom: withered (l.63) is literally “autumn”—an overtone as common to that season as wanton is to “spring” (for ex, in the lines around l.20). (Alas that “autumnal” doesn’t quite convey that sense.) Lost in translation: the opera singers are identified by their troupe name, the Pear Park Students, and the attendants are literally those of Pepper Hall, part of the empress consort’s quarters.

---L.

The moon in his makeshift palace showed his broken heart,
A bell chime on a rainy night deepened his feelings.
Days turned and seasons whirled: his dragon carriage returned,
But at that place, he faltered, unable to go on:
Upon the muddy earth beneath the slopes of Mawei
He saw no jade face, just the empty place she died.

行宫见月伤心色，
夜雨闻铃肠断声。
天旋日转回龙驭，
到此踌躇不能去。
马嵬坡下泥土中，
不见玉颜空死处。

Next installment, as the emperor mourns. This time around, Mawei gets named. Mistranslation: more literally, it’s seeing the moon and hearing the bell.

---L.