"Reply to My Daughters ..." and "Yi Qin E: Remembering ..."
王鳳嫻 Wang Fengxian (fl. early 17th century)
"Reply to My Daughters, Yinyuan and Yinqing, on an Autumn Evening, Using Their Rhymes"
In the frosty cold crows and magpies huddle together on the southern branches.
How can a lonely traveler bear to hear the late-night sounds of the water clock?
Our grief, divided among three places, rests on the same dream.
A heart full of sorrows causes my eyebrows to droop down.
Song Yu composed a rhapsody when saddened by autumn.
Xiangru neglected his lute when afflicted with rain.
The yellow leaves rapping on the window compound my sleeplessness.
The sinking moon by the beam keeps my distant thoughts company.
"Yi Qin E: Remembering My Deceased Daughter Yinqing on a Moonlit Night"
I
I tugged at her robe at parting,
About to leave, she stopped again, my heart was broken,
Quite broken.
Our silk sleeves soaked with tears,
Our hearts pounding with blood.
I leaned against the door till she disappeared in the distance,
Then our correspondence came to an abrupt end.
I was shocked to hear that she had chased the waves and floated with the moon,
With the moon.
In vain I mourn for my aging self,
Snow hanging from my locks.
II
The long song chokes,
The fragrant soul no longer returns, I mourn and grieve in vain.
Quite in vain.
Cold mists, somber trees,
Serve to congeal my sorrow.
Perching crows caws, gone is the human voice.
An expanse of sadness fills up, the moon in the middle of the sky,
In the middle of the sky,
Sadly, still shines
On her old dressing case in the empty chamber.
[trans. Yenna Wu]
Will post biographical note/explanation at a later date; for now, I just loved the second poem (I think it's one of the saddest mother-daughter poems I've ever read, really cutting to the heart of the separation matter - can you imagine having to find out your daughter was dead a while after the fact?) and the first sort of captures the melancholy that is pervading autumn these days. I've found myself falling more in love with poems that are arranged in song patterns; I'm particularly fond of shuilong yin (which forms the basis of perhaps my FAVORITE Chinese poem, Xu Yan's) and this yi qin e.
[292-301]
"Reply to My Daughters, Yinyuan and Yinqing, on an Autumn Evening, Using Their Rhymes"
In the frosty cold crows and magpies huddle together on the southern branches.
How can a lonely traveler bear to hear the late-night sounds of the water clock?
Our grief, divided among three places, rests on the same dream.
A heart full of sorrows causes my eyebrows to droop down.
Song Yu composed a rhapsody when saddened by autumn.
Xiangru neglected his lute when afflicted with rain.
The yellow leaves rapping on the window compound my sleeplessness.
The sinking moon by the beam keeps my distant thoughts company.
"Yi Qin E: Remembering My Deceased Daughter Yinqing on a Moonlit Night"
I
I tugged at her robe at parting,
About to leave, she stopped again, my heart was broken,
Quite broken.
Our silk sleeves soaked with tears,
Our hearts pounding with blood.
I leaned against the door till she disappeared in the distance,
Then our correspondence came to an abrupt end.
I was shocked to hear that she had chased the waves and floated with the moon,
With the moon.
In vain I mourn for my aging self,
Snow hanging from my locks.
II
The long song chokes,
The fragrant soul no longer returns, I mourn and grieve in vain.
Quite in vain.
Cold mists, somber trees,
Serve to congeal my sorrow.
Perching crows caws, gone is the human voice.
An expanse of sadness fills up, the moon in the middle of the sky,
In the middle of the sky,
Sadly, still shines
On her old dressing case in the empty chamber.
[trans. Yenna Wu]
Will post biographical note/explanation at a later date; for now, I just loved the second poem (I think it's one of the saddest mother-daughter poems I've ever read, really cutting to the heart of the separation matter - can you imagine having to find out your daughter was dead a while after the fact?) and the first sort of captures the melancholy that is pervading autumn these days. I've found myself falling more in love with poems that are arranged in song patterns; I'm particularly fond of shuilong yin (which forms the basis of perhaps my FAVORITE Chinese poem, Xu Yan's) and this yi qin e.
[292-301]