Yuchao Wang
on translating Li Yu
As one can see, this translation is in no way faithful to the form of the original. The original was created under a set pattern (ci pai, 詞牌) that predetermined the number of characters in every line as well as their tones and rhyme scheme. By compromising on word-for-word fidelity, rhyme, and original imagery, among other things, however, this expansion into a narrative prose has the advantage of integrating background information with the scene and emotion of the poem by using Li’s dream, which is purely imagined. I borrowed ideas from the original in recreating this scene. For example, flowers, which indicate the advent of spring, are engraved on the windows. Another important feature is that Li does not speak a word in this entire narrative, nor does he show any emotion. This reservedness and the guard’s disrespect towards Li imply his miserable current situation, as he lives under the mercy of the new ruler, and help to tangibly illustrate the sorrow beyond words. Li’s personal reflections (dead elder brother, love for Buddhism, execution of loyal officials, passion for music and dance) are historically true.
about the author
Li Yu (李煜, 937–978 CE) was the third and the last ruler of the Southern Tang regime during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period (907–960 CE). Li was not interested in politics, but rather indulged himself with the arts and sensual pleasures. He surrendered the capital to the ruler of the Song regime and lived under what we today may call home custody, though he did not live in his former home, the palace. This drastic change in his life circumstances resulted in a huge shift in the tone and content of his poems. Li switched from flowery descriptions of sensual pleasures to a more colloquial vocabulary and wrote laments about larger and heavier topics such as regime changes and the vicissitudes of life. His laments pioneered ci, a form of Chinese poetry. The stark contrast between his political incapability and his artistic genius makes Li a famous exemplar of the power of fate; people ponder the irony of the tragic destiny that turned him into one of the greatest Chinese poets of all time.
This poem was written during the period of Li’s home custody, and it was speculated that the grief and lament in this poem contributed to the new ruler’s decision to poison Li.
about the translator
Yuchao Wang is a sophomore at Haverford College intending to major in cognitive science. Aside from amusing himself with imagination (like he has done here), he loves classical music, plays classical guitar, and also studies classics. How they all contain some form of “classic” is a completely irrelevant coincidence.
photo by Jasmine Phun
