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.

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

4: Fourth Poem of Encountering, by Zhang Jiuling

A few changes to format here; I'll discuss them tomorrow. For now, enjoy my meager attempt at our last Zhang Jiuling poem for a little while!

004张九龄:感遇四首之四

江南有丹橘，經冬猶綠林。
豈伊地氣暖，自有歲寒心。
可以薦嘉客，奈何阻重深。
運命唯所遇，循環不可尋。
徒言樹桃李，此木豈無陰。

Zhang Jiuling: Four Poems of Encountering, Number Four

The Southlands have a red tangerine, that
endures the winter in still-green groves

In a realm of such mild weather
it has a heart to bear the cold.

You might give it to noble guests;
Why is it secluded so deep?

Fate and everything it meets: a
wheel whose end we cannot seek.

Someone says: tree, peaches, plums,
how can this wood not have shadows?


Jiāngnán yǒu dān jú, jīng dòng yóu lù lín.
River south has red tangerine, endure winter still green forest
qǐ yí dì qì nuǎn, zǐ yǒu suì hán xīn
how this place air warm, self have severe cold heart
kě yǐ jiàn jiā kè, nài hé zǔ zhòng shēn!
may be present good guest, nevertheless how kept heavy deep
yūn mìng wéi suǒ yù, xún huán bù kě xún.
luck / life (fate) think so encounter, cycle not can search
tú yán shù táo lǐ, cǐ mù qǐ wú yīn?
disciple say tree peaches plums, this wood how could not (shade, yin)?

1: An Lushan

I know I was going to write about Taoism today, but after mentioning Zhang Jiuling's biography two days ago and chatting about it with Matt, I realized that there's some more historical context to this poem (and to the Tang dynasty in general) that will help set the stage for the rest of the Tang poetry we'll encounter on this project.

The Tang, which lasted from 618 to 907 CE, was a Chinese cultural high point, a cosmopolitan and outward-facing dynasty which traded liberally with Central Asian and Turkic peoples. Innovations in art, design, architecture, technology, and cuisine rose out of these three hundred years of prosperity. The Tang reached its peak under Emperor Xuanzong in the 8th century CE, and then, toward the end of his life, started to fall apart.

Everything begins going south with the rise to power of a general named An Lushan, the half-Tujue, half-Turkic son of a sorceress (I swear) who rose to become a general of the Tang armies and rebelled against the dynasty, capturing the capital of Chang'an and setting off a chain of rebellion and riot that destabilized the dynasty and led to its fall in the next century. Many poets in the 300 Tang Poems were exiled or killed or scattered in An Lushan's wake.

Thing is, before An Lushan became a revolutionary, he was a military official, who failed to follow the orders of his superior in battle. Zhang Jiuling, who was the Emperor's counselor at the time, advised the Emperor to execute An Lushan.

Of course, the Emperor pardoned An instead, and listened to a number of pro-war advisors (including a guy named Li Linfu) who claimed An would be more useful alive and terrorizing the central steppe than dead. The rise of this military faction was Zhang Jiuling's undoing, and led to his exile into Hubei, where he ultimately died.

When An Lushan rebelled, captured the capital city, and nearly toppled the dynasty sixteen years later, I'm sure Li Linfu and all the rest involved in Zhang's exile were very pleased with themselves.

1: Zhang Jiuling - Four Poems of Encountering, No. 1

Let's start with the raw language at first: the poem in its original Chinese, followed by the pronunciation with a word-for-word dictionary translation. Then, I'll try my hand at a full English translation.

001张九龄:感遇四首之一

孤鸿海上来,池潢不敢顾。

侧见双翠鸟,巢在三珠树。

矫矫珍木巅,得无金丸惧。

美服患人指,高明逼神恶。

今我游冥冥,弋者何所慕。

Gū hóng hǎi shàng lái, chíhuáng bù gǎn gù.

Lone swan ocean on come, pool puddle not dare visit

Cē jiàn shuāng cuìniǎo, cháo zài sānzhūshù

side see pair kingfishers, nest at three pearl tree

Jiǎojiǎo zhēn mù diān, dé wú jīnwán jù.

arrogant / military(x2) treasure wood peak, how not gold pellet terror

měifù huàn rén zhǐ, gāo míng yù shén wù.

beautiful clothes worry men point, high shine meet god hate

jīn wǒ yóu míngmíng, yìzhě hé suǒ mù

now I swim / wander high and far, arrow -ingperson how where admire

Zhang Jiuling, Four Poems of Encountering - 1

Lone swan comes over ocean; pools and ponds it dare not visit.

Beside, see a pair of kingfishers, nesting in a triple pearl tree.

Mighty on their treasure-wood peak, how can they not fear a sling's gold stones?

Beautifully clothed, beware pointing fingers; greatness and glory bring spirits' wrath.

Now I ramble high and far; archers, what hope have they?