Five Poems by Li Bai (701-762 AD)
Translated by Yun Wang
Li Bai (701–762 AD), or “Li Po”, known as the Exiled Immortal, is the most celebrated and beloved poet in Chinese history. These five poems are from Yun Wang’s poetry translation book manuscript, “The Moon Over Ten Thousand Valleys—Poems of Li Bai”. Three of the poems (#1, #2, and #5) have not appeared in English translation before.
1. 拟古 nǐ gǔ
长绳难系日 cháng shéng nán jì rì
自古共悲辛 zì gǔ gòng bēi xīn
黄金高北斗 huáng jīn gāo běi dǒu
不惜买阳春 bù xī mǎi yáng chūn
石火无留光 shí huǒ wú liú guāng
还如世中人 hái rú shì zhōng rén
即事已如梦 jí shì yǐ rú mèng
後来我谁身 hòu lái wǒ shéi shēn
提壶莫辞贫 tí hú mò cí pín
取酒会四邻 qǔ jiǔ huì sì lín
仙人殊恍惚 xiān rén shū huǎng hū
未若醉中真 wèi ruò zuì zhōng zhēn
1. After the Ancients
A long rope can’t stop the sun from setting
The bitter sorrow shared since antiquity
Enough gold to brim the Big Dipper
Is not too much to pay for springtime
The firestone can’t retain its light
Just like people in this world
Everything here resembles a dream
Who shall I be in reincarnation
Pick up the jug and don’t cry poor
Fetch wine to meet all the neighbors
Immortals have always been misted
Never so real as truth in intoxication
The fifth line alludes to an essay by Taoist Liu Zhou (514–565AD), in which he compared the ephemeralness of life to the light from a firestone.
2. 拟古 nǐ gǔ
清都绿玉树 qīng dōu lǜ yù shù
灼烁瑶台春 zhuó shuò yáo tái chūn
攀花弄秀色 pān huā nòng xi ùsè
远赠天仙人 yuǎn zèng tiān xiān rén
香风送紫蕊 xiāng fēng sòng zǐ ruǐ
直到扶桑津 zhí dào fú sāng jīn
取掇世上艳 qǔ duō shì shàng yàn
所贵心之珍 suǒ guì xīn zhī zhēn
相思传一笑 xiāng sī chuán yī xiào
聊欲示情亲 liáo yù shì qíng qīn
2. After the Ancients
Jade trees green a capital fit for gods
The celestial scene radiates spring glory
I pluck a sprig of blossoms to admire
To dedicate to the goddess faraway
Purple stamens send off a scented wind
All the way to the port of the Sunrise Tree
I present the splendor of this world
Made priceless by a true heart
If you miss me too send me a smile
A small sign of love requited
In the sixth line, the Sunrise Tree is fu sang, a mythical tree consisting of two joined giant mulberry trees, from where the Sun goddess Xi He’s chariot arises each morning, carrying the Sun.
3. 登金陵凤凰台 dēng jīn líng fèng huáng tái
凤凰台上凤凰游 fèng huáng tái shàng fèng huáng yóu
凤去台空江自流 fèng qù tái kōng jiāng zì liú
吴宫花草埋幽径 wú gōng huā cǎo mái yōu jìng
晋代衣冠成古丘 jìn dài yī guān chéng gǔ qiū
三山半落青天外 sān shān bàn luò qīng tiān wài
一水中分白鹭州 yī shuǐ zhōng fēn bái lù zhōu
总为浮云能蔽日 zǒng wèi fú yún néng bì rì
长安不见使人愁 cháng'ān bù jiàn shǐ rén chóu
3. Climbing Upon the Phoenix Terrace in Jinling
Phoenixes frolicked on the Phoenix Terrace
The terrace now empty as the Yangzi rushes on
The Wu palace flora overgrows deserted paths
Jin Dynasty elite long swallowed by ancient mounds
Three peaks half veiled merge with a blue sky
The river splits in two along Egret Isle
Even drifting clouds can hide the sun
Not seeing Chang’an brings me gloom
Li Bai likely wrote this poem in 747 AD, when he left Chang’an after the disappointing three-year stay at the imperial court, under-appreciated by the emperor and slandered by jealous courtiers. The Phoenix Terrace was on the Phoenix Mountain in Jinling (today’s Nanjing), built after three phoenix-like birds were seen flying in the mountain (which was renamed accordingly). Jinling was the capital of the Kingdom of Wu from the Three Kingdoms Period, as well as the East Jin Dynasty. The three peaks are by the Yangzi in the southwest of Jinling, rising shoulder to shoulder from south to north.
4. 金乡送韦八之西京 jīn xiāng sòng wéi bā zhī xī jīng
客自长安来 kè zì cháng ān lái
还归长安去 hái guī cháng ān qù
狂风吹我心 kuáng fēng chuī wǒ xīn
西挂咸阳树 xī guà xián yáng shù
此情不可道 cǐ qíng bù kě dào
此别何时遇 cǐ bié hé shí yù
望望不见君 wàng wàng bù jiàn jūn
连山起烟雾 lián shān qǐ yān wù
4. In Jinxiang, Seeing Off Wei Eight to the West Capital
My guest came from Chang’an
Must now return to Chang’an
A gust of wind blows away my heart
Hangs it west on a tree in that sunward city
Such feeling can’t be rendered in words
When shall we meet again after this parting
I gaze till there is no trace of you
A mist rises to obscure the mountains
Li Bai wrote this poem in 749 AD, when he met an old friend Wei Eight, the eighth son of the Wei Clan, in Jinxiang while both were traveling. Chang’an was renamed West Capital in 742 AD when the emperor reset the dynastic calendar. “That sunward city” is Xianyang, which encompasses Chang’an; it was the capital during the Qin Dynasty, when China became a unified empire. The name “Xianyang” (“all sun”) denotes the geographical characteristic of the vast ancient city: it was located south of Jiuzong Mountain, and north of the Wei River, both considered sunward.
5. 赠别王山人归布山 zèng bié wáng shān rén guī bù shān
王子析道论 wáng zǐ xī dào lùn
微言破秋毫 wēi yán pò qiū háo
还归布山隐 hái guī bù shān yǐn
兴入天云高 xìng rù tiān yún gāo
尔去安可迟 ěr qù ān kě chí
瑶草恐衰歇 yáo cǎo kǒng shuāi xiē
我心亦怀归 wǒ xīn yì huái guī
屡梦松上月 lǚ mèng sōng shàng yuè
傲然遂独往 ào rán suì dú wǎng
长啸开岩扉 cháng xiào kāi yán fēi
林壑久已芜 lín hè jiǔyǐ wú
石道生蔷薇 shí dào shēng qiáng wēi
愿言弄笙鹤 yuàn yán nòng shēng hè
岁晚来相依 suì wǎn lái xiāng yī
5. Farewell Poem for Hermit Wang Returning to Bu Mountain
A Wang progeny expounding Taoist theory
Your words illuminate the minutest details
Returning to seclusion in Bu Mountain
You intend to ascend sky-high into clouds
I’d ask you to delay your departure awhile
Yet you worry about rare herbs’ withering
My heart harbors the desire to return also
I often dream of the moon above tall pines
Upright and proud you shall go alone
Drone before opening a rock abode’s door
Weeds overgrow the forested valley
Rambler roses bloom by the stone path
I could play the sheng to dance cranes
We’ll lean on each other later in the year
Li Bai wrote this poem in 740 AD in Anlu, where his first wife died that year. Hermit Wang might have come for a visit of condolence. The first and penultimate lines allude to Wang Zi-Qiao (~567 BC – 547 BC), the crown prince Ji Jin during the Zhou Dynasty. Being extremely gifted, learned, and wise, he was punished for frank assessments and inconvenient advices to the king, and became a commoner, and the original ancestor of people with the family name “Wang” (meaning “royal”). He was fond of playing the sheng, a mouth-blown free reed instrument consisting of vertical pipes, and said to have ascended to Heaven riding a white crane.
Yun Wang is author of The Book of Mirrors (White Pine Press Poetry Prize 2020, forthcoming 2021), The Book of Totality (Salmon Poetry Press, 2015), and The Book of Jade (Winner of the 15th Nicholas Roerich Poetry Prize, Story Line Press, 2002). Her book of poetry translations, Dreaming of Fallen Blossoms: Tune Poems of Su Dong-Po, was published by White Pine Press in 2019. She also authored two poetry chapbooks: Horse by the Mountain Stream (Word Palace Press, 2016), and The Carp (Bull Thistle Press, 1994). Her poems have been published in numerous literary journals, including The Kenyon Review, Prairie Schooner, Cimarron Review, Salamander Magazine, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Green Mountains Review, and International Quarterly. Her translations of classical Chinese poetry have been published in The Kenyon Review Online, Salamander Magazine, Poetry Canada Review, Willow Springs, Kyoto Journal, Bat City Review, Xavier Review, Connotation Press, Better Than Starbucks, Abstract Magazine TV, and elsewhere.