Li Shangyin, poet of  late Tang Dynasty

lishangyinxiang

1. Introduction

The late Tang Dynasty poet Li Shangyin (812-858) wrote some of the most lyrical verses known in Chinese poetry, in particular poems about unconsummated love. His use of words with deep meanings, usually linked to some well known ancient lore, but sometimes purely by his clever choice of the right words, resulted in short but densely poetical rhymes that evoke strong sympathies in the reader, in a truly timeless fashion that is as effective today as in his own time.

Not least among the appeal of Li’s poems is their ambiguity: are the love poems just about love, or do they have philosophical or political overtones? Was unrequited love symbolic of his failure to find favour at court among the high officials, and his lamentations about public, rather than just personal, misery? I shall discuss this in a later article. In the mean time, a few translated poems to illustrate his style

登乐游
向晚意不适,驱车登古原, 夕阳无限好,只是近黄昏。
The Leyou Plateau (which overlooks Imperial Tombs)
With the gloom of evening hour
I drive up the ancient heights
The setting sun is glorious to see
Pity it’s so close to the night


本以高难饱,徒劳恨费声。五更疏欲断,一树碧无情。
薄宦梗犹泛,故园芜已平。烦君最相警,我亦举家清。

To the Cicada
Up in the air it’s hard to feed your fill
And complaining would get you nowhere
By dawn your voice is about to break
But the tree is still green and severe
To my lowly jobs I drift like the woodman
While my farm is overgrown with thorn
Do keep watch over me, my friend
My home, too, is clean and forlorn.

无题
昨夜星辰昨夜风;画楼西畔桂堂东。
身无彩凤双飞翼,心有灵犀一点通。
隔座送钩春酒暖,分曹射覆蜡灯红。
嗟余听鼓应官去,走马兰台类转蓬。
Untitled
Last night’s bright stars; last night’s breeze;
West of the painted tower, east of bay tree hall;
No phoenix wings on my body, to fly away with you;
But our thoughts link, by the rhinestone’s magic.
Across tables we “passed the hook” with spring wines warm;
Our teams played “guess what” under candle lamps bright.
Pity I hear the dawn drum calling me to duty;
To ride between lofty offices like a floating reed

锦瑟
锦瑟无端五十弦,一弦一柱思华年。
庄生晓梦迷蝴蝶,望帝春心托杜鹃。
沧海月明珠有泪,蓝田日暖玉生烟。
此情可待成追忆,只是当时已惘然。
The Harp
Why must the silky harp have fifty strings?
Each reminds me of one of life’s springs.
In his dream Zhuangzi couldnt tell if he was a butterfly;
Longings of Wangdi live on in the cuckoo bird’s cry.
By the Lost Sea moonlight, pearls have mermaids’ tears;
Under the Blue Field warm sun, smoke rises from jade.
Can feelings be saved for later remembrance?
No, even then everything was but a haze.