Showing posts with label Li Bai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Li Bai. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

55: For a Jinling Tavern Farewell, Li Bai

55: For a Jinling Tavern Farewell


The wind blows the shop full of willow blossoms as

Mme. Wu shouts and pushes her wine on all to taste.


Sons and brothers of Jinling have come to see each other off;

Wishing to go, or not to go, each drains his cup.


I ask of you, please, which is greater: the loss of separation or

the water that flows down from the east?


Wednesday, January 12, 2011

41: Midnight Four Season Songs: Autumn, Li Bai

Chang'an is a slice of moon,

Countless houses pounding clothes.


The autumn wind blows without end,

always with the passions of the Jade Pass.


What day will see the Northern Savages pacified,

and good men quit their long campaign?



Wednesday, December 22, 2010

5: A Few Words on Li Bai

Li Bai holds one of the most august thrones in the history of Chinese poetry, as Matt mentioned in the introduction to Li Bai he published here back in November. Li Bai was also a man of his time - a man, that is, on the border of many worlds.

I mentioned during my translations of Zhang Jiuling that, while Westerners tend to think of Chinese history as largely separate from the larger world, the Tang Dynasty was defined by international trade, border wars, and multiculturalism. The Tang capital at Chang'an, which is known today as Xi'an, was the gateway to the Silk Road, an intersection between the Turkic peoples of Central Asia and the Han Chinese. The spices, cloth, poetry, and blood of many cultures flowed through Chang'an, and left a mark that can be seen to this day in the city's cuisine, architecture, and cosmopolitan attitude. Li Bai's life story shares something of this character.

He was born either in southern Gansu province, or (according to some soruces) even further out on the Silk Road, near the modern city of Tokmok, in Kyrgyzstan. Contemporary biographical sources are sparse, but he apparently grew up speaking Turkish as well as Chinese. His family moved to the more central province of Sichuan during his youth, and in his childhood he was captivated by Daoist mysticism and swordplay. He was a frequent and, apparently, enthusiastic duelist. After achieving initial success at court, he offended a chief Imperial eunuch, and found his hopes of advancement within the Tang bureaucracy blocked. During the chaos surrounding the An Lushan Rebellion, Li Bai joined a smaller rebel faction, and was exiled to Anhui province after the rebellion's failure.

Li Bai spoke the Turkish language and fought in a Turkish general's rebellion against the Tang emperor, and yet his poems are a wellspring of Chinese culture. In this nationalist age, it can be hard to imagine someone straddling worlds and lives to such an extent. Then again, that's what many of us try to do today, with travel, with translation, and with the internet: introduce one world to another, or live one life in the context of many others. In that case, maybe we should be looking at artists like Li Bai to help chart the way.

Monday, December 20, 2010

5: Sharing Wine and the Night with a Recluse Beneath Zhongnan Mountain, by Li Bai (part deux!)

The last month has been a bit hectic for both Matt and myself - sorry for the confused schedule! I took a week off in London and never quite recovered. In light of some great vocabulary notes I received for the Li Bai poem I posted toward the end of November, I've decided to offer a revised translation. Commentary to follow!

005李白:下终南山过斛斯山人宿置酒

暮從碧山下, 山月隨人歸,
卻顧所來徑, 蒼蒼橫翠微.
相攜及田家, 童稚開荊扉.
綠竹入幽徑, 青蘿拂行衣.
歡言得所憩, 美酒聊共揮.
長歌吟松風, 曲盡河星稀.
我醉君復樂, 陶然共忘機.

Twilight from a green mountain falls; the
mountain moon follows a man's return.

And yet he looks back up the path he came,
a gray, gray slash on a blue-green ridge.

Watch him led to the house in the fields: a
child opens the chaste-wood gate.

Green bamboo lines the quiet way;
green vines brush the gown.

With happy words, reach a place of rest.
This beautiful wine, we scatter together.

The pine-tree wind sings long songs,
melodies sparse as the Milky Way's stars.

I am drunk, and you are once more happy.
Joyous, carefree - all forgotten, the world's designs.

---

mù cóng bìshān xià, shān yuē suí rén guī,
Twilight from green mountain down, mountain moon follow person return
què gǔ suǒ lái jìng, cāngcāng héng cuìwēi.
however look back place where comes path, gray gray across blue green hillside
xiàng xié jí tiān jiā, tóng zhì kāi jīng fēi.
watch taken by the hand to the farmer's house; a child opens the chaste-tree gate
lǜ zhú rù yōu jìng, qīng luò fú xíng yī
Green bamboo enters the secluded path, Green radishes are brushed aside by the gown.
huān yán dé suǒ qì, měi jiǔ liáo gǒng huī.
Happy words receive this rest, beauty wine for a time share and scatter
cháng gē yín sōng fēng, qǔ jìn hē xīng xī.
Long songs hum pine wind, melodies all Milky Way sparse
wǒ zuì jūn fù lè, táo rán gǒng wàng jī
I drunk you again happy, happy and carefree all forgotten mechanism

Saturday, December 11, 2010

40: Midnight Four Season Song: Summer, Li Bai

Very sorry for the delay! Completely my fault, and so in recompense I'll offer another *bonus* translation tonight.



Midnight Four Season Song: Summer


On 300 li of Mirror Lake

young lotuses reveal flowers.


In the fifth month Xi Shi plucks,

others fill the shore watching.


Then, back to the boat without attending the moon,

returning to the House of the King of Yue.



Wednesday, November 24, 2010

5: Sharing Wine and the Night with a Recluse Beneath Zhongnan Mountain, by Li Bai

Apologies for a late post! In my defense, I've been in London the last four days, wandering about with friends and enjoying some pints -- a past-time which Li Bai, whose poems I turn to this week, would have respected. So, without further ado:

005李白:下终南山过斛斯山人宿置酒

暮從碧山下, 山月隨人歸,
卻顧所來徑, 蒼蒼橫翠微.
相攜及田家, 童稚開荊扉.
綠竹入幽徑, 青蘿拂行衣.
歡言得所憩, 美酒聊共揮.
長歌吟松風, 曲盡河星稀.
我醉君復樂, 陶然共忘機.

Twilight from a green mountain falls; the
mountain moon follows their return,

but lonely they walk upon the path, a
gray, gray slash on a blue-green ridge.

Watch her led to the house in the fields: a
child opens the chaste-wood gate.

Green bamboo lines the quiet way;
green vines brush the gown.

With happy words achieve at last this rest,
beauty and wine all shared and scattered.

The pine-tree wind sings long songs,
melodies exhausted by sparse river stars.

I am drunk, and you are once more happy,
joyful, all the seeds of care forgotten.

---

mù cóng bìshān xià, shān yuē suí rén guī,
Twilight from green mountain down, mountain moon follow person return
què gǔ suǒ lái jìng, cāngcāng héng cuìwēi.
however lonley which comes path, gray gray across blue green hillside
xiàng xié jí tiān jiā, tóng zhì kāi jīng fēi.
watch taken by the hand to the farmer's house; a child opens the chaste-tree gate
lǜ zhú rù yōu jìng, qīng luò fú xíng yī
Green bamboo enters the secluded path, Green radishes are brushed aside by the gown.
huān yán dé suǒ qì, měi jiǔ liáo gǒng huī.
Happy words receive this rest, beauty wine for a time share and scatter
cháng gē yín sōng fēng, qǔ jìn hē xīng xī.
Long songs hum pine wind, melodies all river star sparse
wǒ zuì jūn fù lè, táo rán gǒng wàng jī
I drunk you again happy, happy and carefree all forgotten (root cause, seed)

Monday, November 15, 2010

39: Midnight Four Season Songs: Spring, Li Bai

Taking a cue from Max's series of four Zhang Jiuling poems (starting here), I'm starting a series of four by Li Bai. There's a whole lot going on here, from big new themes like the Tang frontier and female-voice poems by men, to some fascinating references to folks like Xi Shi and Ziye (her original work here). Hopefully I'll also get into some of the settings of these as well, and describe places like Yumen Guan and Chang'an. Now, poetry:


Midnight Four Season Songs: Spring


In Qin the young girl Luofu

gathering mulberry at grassy water's edge.


White hands on dark green stalks,

Red ornaments flashing in the bright day.


The silkworms hunger, the lady yearning to go.

Of five horses departing, none will leave a trace.




子夜四時歌:春歌,李白


秦地羅敷女,採桑綠水邊。

素手青條上,紅妝白日鮮。

蠶飢妾欲去,五馬莫留連。


Qín dì luófū nǚ,cǎisāng lǜshuǐ biān.

Sùshǒu qīng tiáo shàng,hóngzhuāng báirì xiān

Cán jī qiè yù qù,wǔ mǎ mò liúlián.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

6: The Poet Transcendent, Banished from Heaven

In the middle of his life, the poet Li Bai, also known in the West as Li Po or Li Bo (both inexact reproductions of an 'old style' Mandarin) and to sinologists as Lǐ Bhæk (a reconstruction of the actual contemporary pronunciation of his name), met the famous elder poet He Zhizhang in the Daoist Temple of the Violet Pole, in modern-day Shandong. Learning that such a literary eminence was present, Li Bai introduced himself and presented several of his latest poems. He Zhizhang read at first slowly, then eyes sliding down the paper, then looked up in wonderment. “Can you be the Jin Star Taibai(1), descended from Heaven?" Thus did Li Bai become known as "the banished immortal" (谪仙), and later, the "Poet Transcendent" (诗仙).


Likely born in modern-day Kyrgyzstan, in a town then known as Suiye and within the sphere of influence of the Tang Empire, Li Bai grew up in the Sichuan town of Qinglian and read widely as a child, including many Daoist and astrological texts of a mystical bent. His association with the hermetic intellectual tradition, in particular its Daoist elements, prompted him to choose for his own "pseudonym" the name "Retired Scholar of Qinglian" (青莲居士), after the town where he grew up. As a boy and young man, he is said to have practiced martial arts, and bragged of his skill with a sword. In later years, after traveling the length and breadth of the empire, his wandering and youthful combats earned him the name "the Poet Knight-errant" (诗侠).


In casual description of Tang poetry, or of Chinese poetry generally, Li Bai and Du Fu are known as the greatest Chinese poets of any era, most commonly called the Poets Transcendent and Sage, respectively (诗仙 and 诗圣). Though the trajectories of their careers were quite different, they met twice and thought highly of each other, the younger Du Fu especially thinking enormously of Li Bai. In one poem, Du Fu placed Li Bai among other great poets of the age as one of the "Eight Immortals of the Wine Cup" (饮中八仙).


During the Tang, as for much of Chinese history, an educated man possessed many names beyond his surname. He was born with a "milk name" (乳名) given by his parents, acquired nicknames from his friends, was given a "courtesy name" (字) upon maturity, chose for himself a "pseudonym" (号) and possibly also a pen name, and if he had particular status, may have been given one or more additional nicknames and or posthumous names. Li Bai had more names than even the average Tang gentleman, but as he has faded into history they have only grown in number.




(1) The Jin Star (金星), also called Taibai (太白), refers to Venus. He Zhizhang's comment makes even more sense given that Li Bai's courtesy name was Taibai, chosen presumably for its connection with the same star.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

6 - Li Bai, Drinking Alone Under the Moon

Terribly sorry for the delay! Here then, we have one of the most famous poems in the whole Chinese canon, or at least the first verse. Like many poems in the 300 Poems of the Tang (including Zhang Jiuling's Poems of Encountering) it was anthologized only in part, and I imagine there are many who never come across the other verses. This verse, however, stands alone quite well -- enjoy!


月下独酌


花间一壶酒,独酌无相亲。

举杯邀明月,对影成三人。

月既不解饮,影徒随我身。

暂伴月将影,行乐须及春。

我歌月徘徊,我舞影零乱。

醒时同交欢,醉后各分散。

永结无情游,相期邈云汉。


under moon alone drink


flower middle one pot wine, alone drink no mutual dear-friend

raise glass invite bright moon, face shadow become three people

moon since not understanding to-drink, shadow follows follows my body

temporary companion moon and shadow, make merry must up-to spring

I sing moon wavers/moves-back-and-forth, I dance shadow disordered chaotic

sober time with share joy, drunk after each separate scatter

forever bound-together not-limited sentiment wander, together meet far-away Milky Way

_____



Drinking Alone Under the Moon



Among the flowers my jug of wine,

I drink alone without companion


I raise my glass to the bright moon,

facing my shadow we are three


Moon knows not of drink, and

Shadow merely follows my body.


These temporary fellows, Moon and Shadow,

this happiness is made to end like the spring


I sing and Moon wanders

I dance and Shadow shakes


Still sober we are merry together,

though after we have drunk we will separate


Would that I were with you forever, no pain of parting,

together among the faraway stars