partridge sky
this winter sun—dreary so dreary—climbs past my locked window:
parasol trees must hate frosty nights returning—
wine’s all gone, better savor bitter tea instead;
& my dream’s cut short: borneol’s insistent, aromatic—
autumn’s already used up
but the days remain long:
like Zong Xuan’s homesick heart, but colder, more bitter—
it’s not as if happiness follows the intoxicating cup: don’t
forget yellow chrysanthemums budding by the eastern hedge
Jack Hayes
© 2016
based on Li Qingzhaho: 鷓鴣天
zhègū tiān
Notes:
Partridge Sky: This ci poem is set to an existing tune, which is "Partridge Sky".
Borneol: "Borneol is easily oxidized to the ketone (camphor). One historical name for borneol is Borneo camphor which explains the name.... Borneol is used in traditional Chinese medicine as moxa."
Zong Xuan: Also known as Wang Can, a Han Dynasty poet, who composed 七哀诗 qī āi shī, usually translated as "The Song of Seven Sorrows". In addition, the final line alludes to some famous lines by Six Dynasties poet, Tao Yuanming, here in Arthur Waley's translation:
I pluck chrysanthemums under the eastern hedge,
Then gaze long at the distant summer hills.
The mountain air is fresh at the dusk of day:
The flying birds two by two return.
In these things there lies a deep meaning;
Yet when we would express it, words suddenly fail us.
The poem is posted today to mark the 重陽節 Chóng yáng jié or Double Ninth Festival; this falls on the ninth day of the ninth month of the lunar calendar, & is also known as the 菊節 Jú jié or Chrysanthemum Festival.
Thanks as always to my partner Sheila Graham-Smith for her invaluable research & editorial work.
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
Chrysanthemums: Xue Wu, 17th century, ink and gold on paper, Honolulu Museum of Art, accession 2312.1
Public domain
late spring
to the tune “silk-washing sandy brook”
in the small courtyard, idling at the window
among spring’s lush colors,
the heavy curtains not yet rolled up, the shadows deep,
leaning on the railing, indifferent to the jade qin—
the distant peaks send forth clouds to hasten dim evening;
a trifling breeze blows rain, toys with soft darkness:
the pear blossoms’ urge to wither—I fear
there’s no way to forbid it
Jack Hayes
© 2016
based on Li Qingzhao: 浣溪沙
wăn xī shā
Note: Sheila's research elucidated the "jade qin" line, which reads 倚楼无语理瑶琴 (yǐ lóu wú yǔ lǐ yáo qín). A character by character translation would lead to a literal reading along these lines: "lean on building no words reason jade qin"; however, there are two idioms at play here. 倚楼 means "to lean against a railing", & Sheila discovered that this was a common trope indicating a melancholy state. In addition the negative 无 wú changes the meaning of the following characters to "indifferent to/weary of".
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
Pear Blossoms: Qian Xuan, ca. 1280
Public domain
wind on the lake
(to the tune of “complaint against the prince”)
wind descends on the lake: waves swell into the distance;
autumn, & already dusk:
vermilion is rare & but a few fragrances—
the vivid water, the mountains’ color, like someone dear to me:
there are no words for it
this endless fondness
lotus seed cups already ripe: lotus leaves wither,
purified with clear dew—
duckweed swirls: rushes skirt the shoal;
dozing on sand the gulls & herons don’t even turn their heads—
it seems they too feel bitter about
the one who departed so early
Jack Hayes
© 2016
based on Li Qingzhao: 怨王孙
yuàn wáng sūn
For more information on Li Qingzhao (Wade-Giles: Li Ch'ing-Chao), see brittanica.com, Wikipedia, & stanford.edu
Image links to its source on Wiki Commons:
“Rinse Jade Spring beside Li Qingzhao Memorial in Jinan”: Photo by Wiki Media user Gisling, who makes it available under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license.
