A Self-narrative
By Du Xunhe

Wine, qins and books–my frail body’s company.
With current happenings, I gladly live in poverty.
I’d rather walk the universe as an idle poet
than be a wage-stealing thief in authority.

I haven’t forgotten–poetry’s purpose is salvation,
yet the truth has no place in this troubled nation.
A lifetime of heartfelt words and nowhere to speak,
in my country I am but a white-haired hermit.

Note: The “idle poet” line came to me as a complete coincidence. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t personally like it, but I do believe it is the most suitable translation, and an accurate one. I also arranged this poem after the one I posted yesterday to show a contrast in the poets’ attitudes. (Yang Jiong was born about two hundred years earlier than Du Xunhe, around the beginning of the Tang Dynasty.) The social and political situations the two poems based themselves on were vastly different. In Yang’s poem yesterday, the army were fighting against the Xiongnu in combats. The speaker is quite enthusiastic about serving the country.  On the other hand, the speaker of this poem refers to the corruption within the nation. He is an old person who was never given a chance to serve the people and he has lost hope.  

Poem in original language:

自敘　　杜荀鶴

酒甕琴書伴病身，
熟諳時事樂於貧。
寧為宇宙閑吟客，
怕作乾坤竊祿人。
詩旨未能亡救物，
世情奈值不容真。
平生肺腑無言處，
白髮吾唐一逸人。

Form: Lüshi, seven words/syllables per line, four couplets
Rhyme scheme: aabacada in Cantonese and abcadaea in Mandarin

Literal translation:

Self narration

Wine urns qin books accompany sick body,
Familiar with current affairs happy to be poor.
Rather be in universe an idle travelling singing guest,
afraid to be in heaven and earth stealing salary person.
Poetry’s purpose can’t forget to save things,
World situation however not allow truth.
All life heartfelt words no speaking place,
white hair my Tang one recluse.

Ballad of Departure with the Army
By Yang Jiong

Beacon fire casts flares on the capital
as my heart burns, unsettled.
The general bids farewell to royal palaces,
cavalrymen surround enemy grounds.

Falling snow blurs the sight of flags,
howling wind pierces the sounds of drums.
Better be leader of a hundred men
than one scholar on his own.

Note: The original title “從軍行” is a reference to a ballad in the Han Dynasty. ‘West capital’ (see literal translation) refers to Chang’an (known as Xi’an today), the capital of Tang at the time. “牙璋” (Yazhang) in line 3 of the original poem means a type of military tally used by generals and emperors in ancient China to pass down military commands and strategies, for a picture see this link.

Poem in original language:

從軍行　　楊炯

烽火照西京，
心中自不平。
牙璋辭鳳闕，
鐵騎繞龍城。
雪暗凋旗畫，
風多雜鼓聲。
寧爲百夫長，
勝作一書生。

Form: Lüshi, five words/syllables per line, four couplets
Rhyme scheme: aabacade in Cantonese and aabcdced in Mandarin

Literal translation:

Journey with the army

War flames shine on west capital,
In heart I feel uncalm.
Yazhang leaves phoenix palace,
cavalry winds around dragon city.
Snow dims and withers flag paintings,
Wind much mixes with drum sounds.
Rather be hundred men’s captain,
beats being one book scholar.

Lament II
By Yuan Zhen

We used to joke about what’d happen after we died
now the memories rush back before my eyes.

I’ve given away almost all of your clothes,
but can’t bear to touch the needlework you sewed.

In reminiscence, I treat our servants with pity.
I’ve also dreamt of you and sent you money.

I know such anguish is all too rife–
especially sad it is for poor husband and wife.

Poem in original language:

遣悲懷‧其二　　元稹

昔日戲言身後意，
今朝都到眼前來。
衣裳已施行看盡，
針線猶存未忍開。
尚思舊情憐婢僕，
也曾因夢送錢財。
誠知此恨人人有，
貧賤夫妻百事哀。

Form: Lüshi, seven words/syllables per line, four couplets
Rhyme scheme: abcbdbeb in Cantonese and Mandarin

Literal translation:

Express sad emotions two

Past days joked about afterlife,
this morning comes in front of eyes.
Clothes have been given almost all,
needles and threads still kept not bear to open.
Still miss old love pity maids and servants,
also gave money because of dreams.
Know everyone has this regret,
Poor couples everything sad.

Lodging on New Year’s Eve
By Dai Shulun

In this inn, who’d ask how I am
but me, the only one by a cold lamp?
The year will end tonight,
home is ten thousand miles out of sight.

Remembering the past in sadness,
I laugh at my body’s weakness.
Grey temples with a face in sorrow,
the cycle will start again tomorrow.

Note: Shitouyi, the place name found in the original title, has been eliminated for two reasons – 1. the poem communicates the idea of being away from home effectively on its own and so a reference to a particular place is not as crucial; 2. Shitouyi does not exist as a town at present so the meaning of the reference, especially when translated, would be lost.

Poem in original language:

除夕夜宿石頭驛　　戴叔倫

旅館誰相問，
寒燈獨可親?
一年將盡夜，
萬里未歸人。
寥落悲前事，
支離笑此身。
愁顏與衰鬢，
明日又逢春。

Form: Lüshi, five words/syllables per line, four couplets
Rhyme scheme:aabacaad in Cantonese, abcadabe in Mandarin

Literal translation:

New Year’s Eve Overnight Shitouyi

In the inn who would ask,
cold lamp alone to amiable.
One year’s ending night,
ten thousand miles no return man.
Sparse sad preceding things,
fragmented laughing at this body.
Sorrow face with declined temples,
tomorrow again meet spring.

Thoughts
By Du Mu

Shut out and down, I wandered around
drinking, watching slender waists dance.
Ten years past, I awoke from the Yangzhou dream–
Nothing but a heartless name in brothels I’ve gained.

The title literally means ‘expressing feelings’, which I interpreted as a thought put on paper, hence the translated title (I’m still on the fence about it). I was unable to re-construct the poem with ending rhymes so there are some attempts in internal rhymes.

Poem in original language:

遣懷　　杜牧

落魄江湖載酒行，
楚腰纖細掌中輕。
十年一覺揚州夢，
贏得青樓薄倖名。

Form: Four lines (jueju), seven words/syllables
Rhyme scheme: abcb in Cantonese, aaba in Mandarin

Literal translation:

Expressing feelings

Dire straits in rivers and lakes walk with wine,
Chu waists delicate and small light in hands.
Ten years woke up from Yangzhou dream,
won in brothel heartless name.