Aug. 23rd, 2021 04:35 pm
Nineteen Old Poems: Week 2 of 2
* There were two votes in favour of East Asia Student's translations, so that's what I've gone with. If you prefer or would like to bring another translation into the discussion, please feel free.
* Chapter Five of How to Read Chinese Poetry is specifically about the Nineteen Old Poems.
* Every week I search the poems' English results to see if I can find any scholarship or neat bits and pop the results in Resources. Here is this week's collection.
* Remember you can also look at How to Read Chinese Poetry in Context, though it doesn't specifically treat this collection.
* IF YOU HAVE FRIENDS WHO MIGHT LIKE TO JOIN or have other ideas, please let me know on this post.
* Chapter Five of How to Read Chinese Poetry is specifically about the Nineteen Old Poems.
* Every week I search the poems' English results to see if I can find any scholarship or neat bits and pop the results in Resources. Here is this week's collection.
* Remember you can also look at How to Read Chinese Poetry in Context, though it doesn't specifically treat this collection.
* IF YOU HAVE FRIENDS WHO MIGHT LIKE TO JOIN or have other ideas, please let me know on this post.
* I found the best option for the weekly reminder emails, via Gmail. The external service options are more involved than our purposes require. Does anyone know anything about how to arrange an Apps Script? Basically all it has to do is tell ten people, on Saturdays, to come and get their juice/poems.
Until someone knows what to do there, I'll send out manual messages weekly. If you'd like to receive these and are not getting them, please let me know.
* Next batch of poems, the first half of Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute, MONDAY, AUGUST 30th.
Until someone knows what to do there, I'll send out manual messages weekly. If you'd like to receive these and are not getting them, please let me know.
* Next batch of poems, the first half of Eighteen Songs of a Nomad Flute, MONDAY, AUGUST 30th.
16. 凜凜歲云暮 – Bitterly Cold, the Year Ends
lǐn lǐn suì yún mù
[cold] [cold] [year] [cloud] [sunset]
Bitterly cold, the year ends;
螻蛄夕鳴悲
lóu gū xī míng bēi
[mole cricket][] [dusk] [call] [sorrow]
mole crickets chirp mournfully at dusk,
涼風率已厲
liáng fēng lǜ yǐ lì
[cold] [wind] [frequent] [already] [severe]
and cold winds are already frequent and severe.
遊子寒無衣
yóu zǐ hán wú yī
[wanderer][] [cold] [not have] [clothes]
The wanderer is cold and lacks clothing,
錦衾遺洛浦
jǐn qīn yí luò pǔ
[embroidered] [quilt] [leave behind] [_Luo_] [_Pu_]
his embroidered quilt left at Luopu.
同袍與我違
tóng páo yǔ wǒ wéi
[same] [gown] [from] [me] [separate]
Like that gown, I am separated from you,
獨宿累長夜
dú sù lèi cháng yè
[alone] [live] [tired] [long] [night]
living alone, weary in the long night.
夢想見容輝
mèng xiǎng jiàn róng huī
[dream] [think] [see] [countenance] [glorious]
I dream that I see your wonderful face,
良人惟古歡
liáng rén wéi gǔ huan
[good] [person] [only] [old] [joy]
but you are only a joy from the past.
枉駕惠前綏
wǎng jià huì qián suī
[in vain] [harness] [favour] [before] [pacify]
Vainly you bestowed upon me the reins of of a chariot,
願得常巧笑
yuàn de cháng qiǎo xiào
[hope] [get] [eternal] [opportunely] [smile]
hoping to see my every smile as it happened.
攜手同車歸
xié shǒu tóng chē guī
[hold] [hand] [same] [carriage] [return]
Hand in hand, we returned in the same carriage.
既來不須臾
jì lái bu xū yú
[already] [come] [not] [necessary] [little while]
Even then, you visited for barely a moment,
又不處重闈
yòu bù chù chóng wéi
[again] [not] [reside] [again] [door to woman's room]
and did not stay in my room again.
亮無晨風翼
liàng wú chén fēng yì
[light] [not have] [morning] [wind] [wing]
Without light, the morning wind glides;
焉能凌風飛
yān néng líng fēng fēi
[how] [can] [soar] [wind] [fly]
how can I soar in the wind in flight?
眄睞以適意
miǎn lài yǐ shì yì
[squint] [glance] [take] [fit] [desire]
I squint askance to see what I desire,
引領遙相睎
yǐn lǐng yáo xiāng xī
[stretch] [neck] [distant] [each other] [gaze]
and strain my neck as we distantly gaze at each other.
徒倚懷感傷
tú yǐ huái gǎn shāng
[disciple] [rely] [heart] [feel] [hurt]
Your reliant disciple feels injured at heart,
重涕沾雙扉
chóng tì zhān shuāng fēi
[again] [tears] [moisten] [double] [leaf door]
and again her tears wet the door.
Notes on this poem
Luopu (洛浦) is a town in Guangzhou, presumably where the speaker now lives alone.
The line 枉駕惠前綏, here translated as ‘Vainly you bestowed upon me the reins of of a chariot’ seems to refer to some sort of marriage custom where the couple rode in a carriage to be married.
The characters 雙扉 in the last line describe a traditional Chinese door with two sides, as illustrated in the character 門.
Re: 16. 凜凜歲云暮 – Bitterly Cold, the Year Ends
"hoping to see my every smile as it happened." this is a little awkward, what is this, quite?
'leaf door'? oh nm the notes got me, thanks notes
So he didn't really consummate the marriage, and didn't repeat the visit after?
'Without light, the morning wind glides;
how can I soar in the wind in flight?'
what does this part of the poem do?
Re: 16. 凜凜歲云暮 – Bitterly Cold, the Year Ends
Baike's gloss on the smile is 'a kind of attitude/gesture of woman's beauty, from the Shijing's Wei feng, Shuo Ren. here, indicates an intimate expression towards the husband'
Baike glosses 'light' with a word that means 'letter, to trust, to believe'. The morning wind is a type of bird that flies rapidly, that is repeatedly referenced in these poems. Baike's vernacular tl is straightforward: "I only regret that I don't have the wings of a bird of prey, and so cannot fly away to my husband's side'
Re: 16. 凜凜歲云暮 – Bitterly Cold, the Year Ends
Same gown = same quilt, an ancient way for spouses to refer to each other.
Apparently the use of dreams = romance in this poem influenced later literature.