#b:episodes

[any-which-way-poetry]

[Episode transcript here.]

苏轼 Su Shi (Su Dongpo) 江城子·乙卯正月二十日夜记梦 Dream, 20/1/1075

十年生死两茫茫， 不思量，自难忘。 千里孤坟， 无处话凄凉。 纵使相逢应不识， 尘满面，鬓如霜。

夜来幽梦忽还乡， 小轩窗，正梳妆。 相顾无言， 惟有泪千行。 料得年年肠断处， 明月夜，短松冈。

ten years -- the haze of distance between the living and the dead one doesn't think on it much one never forgets it

a thousand miles of lonely graves nowhere for my living voice to speak misery

even if we meet again, you would hardly know me a face full of dust white in my hair

with a strange dream at night i am suddenly back home that little window where you are getting ready

we look at each other, but words don't come only a thousand lines of tears

i will be waiting every year at the place of my heartbreak the bright moon at night a mound of short pines

Further reading:

#gushiwensday translation by garden-ghoul

Notes by Nina Du, Runqi Zhang, and Dante Zhu; translation by Quan Jia (Global Medieval Sourcebook)

[any-which-way-poetry]

[Episode transcript can be found here.]

早秋苦热堆案相仍 Awful heat in early autumn, piles of paperwork keep coming 杜甫 Du Fu

七月六日苦炎蒸，对食暂餐还不能。 常愁夜来皆是蝎，况乃秋后转多蝇。 束带发狂欲大叫，簿书何急来相仍。 南望青松架短壑，安得赤脚踏层冰。

august sixth. baking in this awful heat about time for a hasty meal? think again

I suffer. and when night comes, so do the scorpions – only to be replaced, come fall, by the flies

I’m going to go mad from my ties and belts. I want to scream ledgers and documents (cannot be urgent) keep coming. they keep coming

travelling in my mind to those green pines by the ravines south of here oh the satisfaction of bare feet breaking through a crust of ice

Further reading:

"a lot of people QTd this with stuff like "'twas ever thus" which is interesting…", @AsFarce (Twitter)

D. Young, Du Fu: A Life in Poetry (2008)

B. Watson, Selected Poems of Du Fu (2003)

[any-which-way-poetry]

[Episode transcript can be found here.]

寄扬州韩绰判官 Sent to Official Han Chuo in Yangzhou 杜牧 Du Mu

青山隐隐水迢迢， 秋尽江南草未凋。 二十四桥明月夜， 玉人何处教吹箫？

the mountains are as hazy as the river winding on autumn takes Jiangnan, still so lush and green

among the twenty-four bridges under moonlit night where is my dear virtuoso? teach me once more.

Further reading:

#gushiwensday translation by garden-ghoul

"Du Mu and the Making of a New Fengliu Ideal", by Y. Hong (2019)

[any-which-way-poetry]

[Episode transcript can be found here.]

国殇 Our Martyrs 屈原 Qu Yuan

(from the Nine Songs, Songs of Chu)

操吴戈兮被犀甲，车错毂兮短兵接。 旌蔽日兮敌若云，矢交坠兮士争先。 凌余阵兮躐余行，左骖殪兮右刃伤。 霾两轮兮絷四马，援玉枹兮击鸣鼓。 天时怼兮威灵怒，严杀尽兮弃原野。 出不入兮往不反，平原忽兮路超远。 带长剑兮挟秦弓，首身离兮心不惩。 诚既勇兮又以武，终刚强兮不可凌。 身既死兮神以灵，子魂魄兮为鬼雄！

grasping Wu pikes—wearing rhinoceros armour, chariot axles enmeshing—short-swords joining.

banners blotting the sun—foes like clouds, raining arrows twofold—men eager to be first.

my formation scattered—my line trampled, my left horses dead—my right sword-gashed.

a duststorm for two wheels—traces a team of four, “reinforcements!” the jade drumsticks—“attack!” the drums call.

the heavenly hour resents us—the mighty spirit rages, sternly slaying first to last—hometown fields abandoned.

going but not coming—departing but not returning, the plains untended—the roads unending.

bearing long swords—clutching Qin bows, heads and bodies parted—hearts still untried.

indeed both courageous—and accompanied by Wu, staunch to the end—broken by none.

bodies stopped in death—both spark and spirit, steadfast souls—heroes among ghosts.

Further reading: G. Sukhu, The Songs of Chu (2017)

[any-which-way-poetry]

[Episode transcript can be found here.]

无题 Untitled 李商隐 Li Shangyin

Guest episode from ghoul, my friend and frequent collaborator, presenting Li Shangyin's 无题·相见时难别亦难 "Untitled (finding time to meet is hard; parting is hard too)" in three interwoven translations.

相见时难别亦难，东风无力百花残。 春蚕到死丝方尽，蜡炬成灰泪始干。 晓镜但愁云鬓改，夜吟应觉月光寒。 蓬山此去无多路，青鸟殷勤为探看。

finding time to meet is hard; parting is hard too. the east wind brings in the new season gentle, but it withers the flowers all the same.

spring silkworms until they die spin out worries without rest; a candle burns down to ash and only then its tears begin to dry.

in the morning mirror you comb over and over your lovely hair. you recite verse instead of sleeping, in the cold light of the moon—

but there’s not much road between here and the queen mother’s mountain. she’s close; her green bird always comes to check on you.

---

we had a hard time meeting, I had a hard time leaving you the flowers wither when the spring wind's all blown through

the silkworm sits and spins her thoughts out till the very last the candle turns to ash and suddenly the tears are in your past

at sunrise check my mirror and my roots are showing through at moonrise stumbling over psalms while my lips turn blue

a mile or two on down the road is the immortal mountain queen mother's crow says girl stop sitting counting days without him

Further reading:

W. May, In the Same Light: 200 Tang Poems for Our Century (2022)

translator's notes

my Dessa pastiche translation