Xu Zihua on Qiu Jin
徐自華 Xu Zihua (1873-1935)
"Taking an Excursion at West Lake with Xuanqing [Qiu Jin], I am Moved to Write"
Like meteors for the moment we have a spring outing together,
Lake and hills coming into view - how they sadden our spirits.
After death my name will not be known in the highest ranks,
While alive good friends are not too many.
Wanting to ease your accumulated grief, you rely on wine,
Willing to make a sacrifice, do you ever think of yourself?
It pains us to look towards Phoenix Hill
Where the Song imperial tombs are sunk in barbarian dust.
"On the 26th of November, I Crossed the Yangzi During a Snow Storm to Take Care of Xuanqing's Burial; I Was Moved to Write"
I
This time I have been delayed by illness from crossing the River,
Wanting to visit your remains, I am undeterred by the cold.
Would I give up this aim because my daughter died?
You spoke for the public good; dare I speak of private feelings?
II
My tears had not yet dried from weeping for my daughter,
When I hurriedly embarked on the journey to seek your coffin.
Since hot-blooded zeal still fills your heart,
I am not afraid of the cold even if I have to face wind and frost.
III
Red clouds closing in on all sides as evening sorrow rises;
A lonely boat in a river full of wind and snow.
How I can I bear to walk the road to Shanyin today
Where no one but me comes to bury Autumn?
IV
To bury you I select a piece of land at Xiling.
When I die in the future, who will bury my bones?
This has stirred me to thoughts on life and death,
I hurriedly plan to arrange a tomb in death.
"After the Central Plain Was Recovered [from the Manchus], I Returned to Yue and Mourned Xuanqing" [from a series of four poems]
I
Every year in wind and rain I was accustomed to grieving for autumn,
This year the autumn wind scattered all grief away.
A cry from Wuchang summon a chorus from all the world:
At last we have recovered our ancient land.
II
In autumn wind and autumn rain, dust rises from battlefields,
Barbarian dust blow far, evil air swept away.
Such pity that on the day the revolution has succeeded
You are missing from the cavalry ranks by the hill of Wu.
III
I dread going to West Lake, it brings up my grief -
A scoop of barren earth, ashes after the disaster.
Crossing the river I don't feel the cold in my light fur;
Twice I've come to Shanyin in the wind and snow.
[Trans. Grace S. Fong]
I picked Xu a bit at random; as it turns out, she's actually the last poet in the Women Writer's anthology (then on to criticism). It seemed rather appropriate - she was 'perhaps best known as friend of the revolutionary martyr Qiu Jin, but she can stand on her own merits as a classical poet and progressive woman educator' (657). And, as I went back to find my entry on 秋瑾 Qiu Jin, I read the comments - it was the first time wunderbaum popped up in my journal.
What a good friend Xu was - after Qiu was executed, Xu really did go to collect the coffin to bring it back to West Lake, just as she wrote:
Xu was principal of the Xunxi School for Girls ... when she first met Qiu Jin, who had come to assume a teaching post at the school in 1906. The two women instantly struck up a strong friendship .... With similar interests and concerns, they discussed a range of subjects: poetry, education, women's issues, current affairs .... After Qiu Jin was beheaded for her part in [the anti-Manchu uprising of 1907], it was Xu Zihua who dared to come forward and make the wintry journey to collect her coffin for burial by West Lake .... (658).
I find the relationships formed by these sorts of talented women so inspiring (and oddly familiar): often brought together by happenstance, relationships built on mutual admiration and affection, as well as 'intellectual' stuff, often forced apart by life (or, as in this case, death). Too bad I don't write poetry well; if I did, I could fill a book with thoughts on my lovely and talented (and very far away) friends.
Xu's repetition of Qiu Jin's famous 'death line' of her 'confession' ('秋雨秋風愁殺人' - Autumn rains and autumn winds worry a person to death - Qiu's last name is 'Autumn') in the third piece is very poignant, as is her reference to 'burying Autumn' (what an image).
Xu went on to found a girl's school in Shanghai, named 'Jingxiong' after one of Qiu's style names (which means 'hero's revival'). She died at 63.
[657-666]
"Taking an Excursion at West Lake with Xuanqing [Qiu Jin], I am Moved to Write"
Like meteors for the moment we have a spring outing together,
Lake and hills coming into view - how they sadden our spirits.
After death my name will not be known in the highest ranks,
While alive good friends are not too many.
Wanting to ease your accumulated grief, you rely on wine,
Willing to make a sacrifice, do you ever think of yourself?
It pains us to look towards Phoenix Hill
Where the Song imperial tombs are sunk in barbarian dust.
"On the 26th of November, I Crossed the Yangzi During a Snow Storm to Take Care of Xuanqing's Burial; I Was Moved to Write"
I
This time I have been delayed by illness from crossing the River,
Wanting to visit your remains, I am undeterred by the cold.
Would I give up this aim because my daughter died?
You spoke for the public good; dare I speak of private feelings?
II
My tears had not yet dried from weeping for my daughter,
When I hurriedly embarked on the journey to seek your coffin.
Since hot-blooded zeal still fills your heart,
I am not afraid of the cold even if I have to face wind and frost.
III
Red clouds closing in on all sides as evening sorrow rises;
A lonely boat in a river full of wind and snow.
How I can I bear to walk the road to Shanyin today
Where no one but me comes to bury Autumn?
IV
To bury you I select a piece of land at Xiling.
When I die in the future, who will bury my bones?
This has stirred me to thoughts on life and death,
I hurriedly plan to arrange a tomb in death.
"After the Central Plain Was Recovered [from the Manchus], I Returned to Yue and Mourned Xuanqing" [from a series of four poems]
I
Every year in wind and rain I was accustomed to grieving for autumn,
This year the autumn wind scattered all grief away.
A cry from Wuchang summon a chorus from all the world:
At last we have recovered our ancient land.
II
In autumn wind and autumn rain, dust rises from battlefields,
Barbarian dust blow far, evil air swept away.
Such pity that on the day the revolution has succeeded
You are missing from the cavalry ranks by the hill of Wu.
III
I dread going to West Lake, it brings up my grief -
A scoop of barren earth, ashes after the disaster.
Crossing the river I don't feel the cold in my light fur;
Twice I've come to Shanyin in the wind and snow.
[Trans. Grace S. Fong]
I picked Xu a bit at random; as it turns out, she's actually the last poet in the Women Writer's anthology (then on to criticism). It seemed rather appropriate - she was 'perhaps best known as friend of the revolutionary martyr Qiu Jin, but she can stand on her own merits as a classical poet and progressive woman educator' (657). And, as I went back to find my entry on 秋瑾 Qiu Jin, I read the comments - it was the first time wunderbaum popped up in my journal.
What a good friend Xu was - after Qiu was executed, Xu really did go to collect the coffin to bring it back to West Lake, just as she wrote:
Xu was principal of the Xunxi School for Girls ... when she first met Qiu Jin, who had come to assume a teaching post at the school in 1906. The two women instantly struck up a strong friendship .... With similar interests and concerns, they discussed a range of subjects: poetry, education, women's issues, current affairs .... After Qiu Jin was beheaded for her part in [the anti-Manchu uprising of 1907], it was Xu Zihua who dared to come forward and make the wintry journey to collect her coffin for burial by West Lake .... (658).
I find the relationships formed by these sorts of talented women so inspiring (and oddly familiar): often brought together by happenstance, relationships built on mutual admiration and affection, as well as 'intellectual' stuff, often forced apart by life (or, as in this case, death). Too bad I don't write poetry well; if I did, I could fill a book with thoughts on my lovely and talented (and very far away) friends.
Xu's repetition of Qiu Jin's famous 'death line' of her 'confession' ('秋雨秋風愁殺人' - Autumn rains and autumn winds worry a person to death - Qiu's last name is 'Autumn') in the third piece is very poignant, as is her reference to 'burying Autumn' (what an image).
Xu went on to found a girl's school in Shanghai, named 'Jingxiong' after one of Qiu's style names (which means 'hero's revival'). She died at 63.
[657-666]