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This week we start working with Li Qingzhao’s ci poetry. As usual, the book is freely available via De Gruyter's Library of Chinese Humanities in Mandarin and English and via several publication formats, including two open access options (the pdf appears to be better formatted than the ebook). We're reading the poems 3.1 through 3.8 inclusive.
This collection uses footnotes and endnotes to explicate the work. There are three endnotes for this week’s group of poems, but these aren’t very rich in exegesis.
CLP has an episode on Li Qingzhao you might find relevant.
3.1
天上星河轉
人間簾幕垂。
涼生枕簟淚痕滋。
起解羅衣 聊問夜何其。
翠貼蓮蓬小
金銷藕葉稀。 舊時天氣舊時衣。
只有情懷 不似舊家時。
To the tune “Southern Song”
The River of Stars pivots in the sky, blinds and curtains hang down in the mortal world. Pillow and mat are chilly, the tear stains still moist.
I arise and untie my silken robe to ask about the progress of the night.
Turquoise stitching on lotus pods is fine,
gold outline on lotus leaves is delicate. The weather is of years gone by, even the clothes of years gone by.
It’s just that my feelings do not resemble those of years gone by back home.
Re: 3.1
“Turquoise stitching on lotus pods is fine,
gold outline on lotus leaves is delicate.” Is this a description of how these things look in nature? (Rather than some practice of stitching on the pods or gilding the leaves.)
Mm the ending of this does hit
Re: 3.1
oh wow her life is so sad ;^;
天上星河轉
人間簾幕垂。is such a gorgeous thing to say though
Re: 3.1
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From:3.2
芳草池塘
綠陰庭院
晚晴寒透窗紗。
玉鈎金鎖 管是客來唦。 寂寞尊前席上 惟愁海角天涯。
能留否 酴醾落盡 猶賴有梨花。
當年 曾勝賞
生香熏袖
活火分茶。
儘如龍驕馬
流水輕車。 不怕風狂雨驟 恰才稱 煮酒牋花。
如今也 不成懷抱
得似舊時那。
To the tune “Fragrance Fills the Courtyard, Modulated Version”
A pond amid fragrant grasses, courtyard shaded in green, on a clear evening, coolness enters the window gauze.
Jade hook and golden lock— surely the guests have arrived! But lonely before wine cup and banquet setting, aware only of sadness at the sky’s edge and end of the sea.
Will they be willing to stay for long? The thornberry flowers have all fallen, at least the pear blossoms remain.
In former years, we had the grandest pleasures.
Honey-bush incense perfumed our sleeves, cakes of tea were broken over live coals. Prancing steeds like sleek dragons
drew fluttering carriages swift as rushing waters. What did we care about blustery winds or driving rains? All the better for warming wine and inscribing flowery paper.
But as for today— no feeling at all forms in the heart,
how could we ever be like that again?
Re: 3.2
“cakes of tea were broken over live coals.” Er, why?
The vibes on this are really resonant, tho I’m not sure exactly what it’s about
Re: 3.2
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Baike's annotation on the 'jade hook', which is found only in that third version, is that it doesn't have much connection to the next line, so is an error or later addition.
Baike notes that the last character of line 5 is not recorded in the book, but should be read with this sound as an auxiliary word according to the rhythm. (Perhaps it's not recorded because it's assumed to be present along with the tune? Interesting.)
Baike also says the later filling in of the 'pear blossom' is inappropriate, as there is an inconsistency in meaning with the previous sentence. Pear blossoms bloom /before/ thornberries, so it is seasonally inappropriate.
And there were a handful of other additions that Baike comments on, but didn't have much to say.
Baike is also very insistent on interpreting this through the lens of LQZ and her history.
Re: 3.2
From:3.3
天接雲濤連曉霧。
星河欲轉千帆舞。
彷彿夢魂歸帝所
聞天語。 殷勤問我歸何處。
我報路長嗟日暮。
學詩謾有驚人句。
九萬里風鵬正舉。
風休住。
蓬舟吹取三山去。
To the tune “The Fisherman Is Proud”
The sky joins billowing cloud-waves to morning mists. The River of Stars begins to turn, a thousand sails dance. My dreaming soul seems to have gone to the Lord of Heaven’s place,
where I hear Heaven speak. What is your final destination, it asks, showing real concern.
The road is long, I say, and the day already late.
I write poetry, but my startling lines are produced in vain. A wind blows thousands of miles, the giant phoenix will soon take
flight. Oh wind, do not slacken! Blow my little boat to the distant Isles of Immortals.
Re: 3.3
“where I hear Heaven speak. What is your final destination, it asks” like, the disembodied place asks her? Or the court?
Re: 3.3
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The 'thousands of miles' are glossed a Zhuangzi reference where it is said the Dapeng (bird of legend) flew 90000 miles.
3.4
常記溪亭日暮。
沈醉不知歸路。
興盡晚回舟
誤入藕花深處。 爭渡。
爭渡。 驚起一灘鷗鷺。
To the tune “As If in a Dream”
I often recall one sunset in a riverside pavilion. Having drunk too much, I forgot the way home. Knowing it was late, I started back in my boat at dusk
but paddled by mistake into a thick patch of lotuses. Struggling to get out, struggling to get out, I startled a whole sandbar of egrets into flight.
Re: 3.4
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*That would be xian (仙), for survivors of the Great Xian Debate of 2021.
**Of course it would be Su Shi.
On a more related note: 'lost myself in the depths of the lotuses' is so evocative, and of course lends itself well to CQL fic.
Re: 3.4
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Re: 3.4
From:3.5
昨夜雨疏風驟。
濃睡不消殘酒。
試問捲簾人
却道海棠依舊。 知否。
知否。 應是綠肥紅瘦。
To the tune “As If in a Dream”
Last night the rain was intermittent, the wind blustery. Deep sleep did not dispel the lingering wine. I tried asking the maid raising the blinds,
who said the crab-apple blossoms were as before. “Don’t you know? Don’t you know? The greens must be plump and the reds spindly.”
Re: 3.5
“who said the crab-apple blossoms were as before. “Don’t you know? Don’t you know? The greens must be plump and the reds spindly.”” I don’t get any of this part
Re: 3.5
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Here's an adorable pair of girls singing it.
I wonder at which point in her life did she write this and if she is the speaker. Is this a little sketch of what happened one morning, or a something from her imagination...?
It has very /youth/ vibes if that makes sense. Mood being influenced that the time has passed for the blooming flowers and being sad that the season is over.
Love how she describes the crabapple blossoms as 'reds' supposed to be thinning (the literal word is thin! What's this 'spindly' nonsense?), and the green leaves 'fattening' i.e. growing dense. It's such a fresh and slightly playful turn of phrase. Oh - and I just looked up images of crabapple trees, and in spring aka flowering season, they are absolutely COVERED in red or pink blossoms. You can hardly see any green. It's very pretty.
Also this whole little scene - it made me laugh!
Can you imagine someone maybe upset and drinking the night away while the wind is whooooooooooooing outside, and drizzling raindrops tap-tapping on the roof. Then they fall asleep and wake up still sort of drunk, feeling all melancholy about like, the going away of beautiful things. (/o\ I'm not going to look out the window!) When the maid comes in all matter-of-factly rolling up the blinds, they mock-casually ask, "hey would you just take a look and tell me how are the flowers today?"
The maid is like ???? "Nothing's changed, miss? They're all still out there." If she's ever been upset about fallen blossoms, it's probably when thinking about how much there is to sweep.
And the person is so exasperated like aaaaaaa she doesn't get it! 'Don't you know? Don't you know?! It's time for them to all be falling!"
EXACTLY like when I was trying to tell my dad about how it feels to sit on the work bus with a childhood friend when we used to take the morning school bus together, and he DIDN'T get it until I came right out to say "Ah, time passes fast!"
Re: 3.5
From:3.6 咏白菊 On the White Chrysanthemum
小樓寒
夜長簾幕低垂。
恨蕭蕭
無情風雨 夜來揉損瓊肌。 也不似 貴妃醉臉
也不似 孫壽愁眉。 韓令偷香 徐娘傅粉
莫將比擬未新奇。 細看取
屈平陶令
風韻正相宜。 16 微風起
清芬醞藉 不減酴醾。
漸秋闌 雪清玉瘦
向人無限依依。
似愁凝
漢皋解佩
似淚灑 紈扇題詩。 明月清風 濃煙暗雨
天教憔悴度芳姿。 縱愛惜
不知從此
留得幾多時。
人情好
何須更憶 澤畔東籬。
To the tune “Gorgeous”
On the White Chrysanthemum
The low tower was cold, the night long, blinds and curtains hung down. How unwelcome, soughing on and on,
the uncaring wind and rain that bruised their jadelike skin. They do not resemble Guifei’s face flushed with wine,
nor do they resemble Sun Shou’s sorrowful eyebrows. The perfume that Director Han stole, the powder that Lady Xu wore,
were not nearly so fresh and marvelous.
When we look closely it is Qu Yuan and Tao Qian Whose graceful bearing befits theirs.
16 As a slight breeze stirs, their pure fragrance and refinement equal those of the briar rose.
As autumn reaches its end, 20 their spotless snow and slender jade
gaze with endless longing toward us. They seem filled with sorrow: the pearl pendants untied on Han’gao Mountain.
They appear to be shedding tears, the white silk fan inscribed with a poem.
In bright moonlight and chill winds heavy mists and dark rains,
Heaven makes their fragrant beauty look haggard. No matter how much we cherish them it’s impossible to know, from this moment on, how much longer they will last.
If a person truly cares for them, why must one always think back to Qu Yuan’s marsh and Tao Qian’s eastern hedge?
Re: 3.6 咏白菊 On the White Chrysanthemum
Interesting to see associations for chrysanthemums that AREN’T queer.
“If a person truly cares for them, why must one always think back to Qu Yuan’s marsh and Tao Qian’s eastern hedge?” This seems like the clincher, and we have no further information.
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Also an expression of how LQZ feels that a poem must have allusion to have deeper meanings. I guess with the footnotes and Baike gloss the references are there, but it's not quite as expressive as it could be otherwise.
3.7
風柔日薄春猶早。
夾衫乍著心情好。
睡起覺微寒。
梅花鬢上殘。
故鄉何處是。
忘了除非醉。
沉水臥時燒。
香消酒未消。
To the tune “Bodhisattva Barbarian”
The wind delicate, the sun pale—it’s still early spring. I wore a lined jacket, my heart at ease. Now arising from sleep, I feel a chill in the air.
The plum blossom in my hair has withered.
My homeland, where is it? I can’t forget unless I’ve been drinking. Aloeswood incense smoldered as I lay down.
The fragrance has dissipated, the wine has not.
Re: 3.7
“Aloeswood incense” do people make incense out of aloe tree wood?
“the wine has not.” Always with the drinking until you’re still drunk when you wake up, how strong was this shit?
Re: 3.7
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Baike says some say the plum blossom could also be the plum blossom makeup, but its first gloss of 'spring plums inserted at the temples' seems more logical. Though I guess either technically works, since the makeup could also be ruined.
3.8
歸鴻聲斷殘雲碧。
背窗雪落爐煙直。
燭底鳳釵明。
釵頭人勝輕。
角聲催曉漏。
曙色回牛斗。
春意看花難。
西風留舊寒。
To the tune “Boddhisattva Barbarian”
Migrating geese can no longer be heard, past broken clouds of cyan-green.
Snow falls outside the darkened window, the censer’s smoke rises straight.
A phoenix hairpin reflects the candle’s flame. Cutout figures weigh nothing, inserted beside the pin.
A garrison horn hurries the water-clock at dawn. The day’s first light comes to Dipper and Ox.
Eager for signs of spring, it’s hard to look for blossoms 8 when the west wind retains winter’s chill.
Re: 3.8
She’s very good at evocative sensory description in a way I think previous poet’s haven’t really been
Re: 3.8
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Baike specifies that these cutouts would have been made of gold foil.