行香子·北望平川To the wild north we go

行香子·北望平川 

(与泗守过南山晚归作)

原作: 苏轼（字子瞻, 号东坡居士; 11世纪北宋）

英译及赏析: 闵晓红(2026)

北望平川，野水荒湾。共寻春、飞步孱颜。

和风弄袖，香雾萦鬟。正酒酣时，人语笑，白云间。

飞鸿落照，相将归去。淡娟娟、玉宇清闲。

何人无事，宴坐空山。望长桥上，灯火乱，使君还。

To the wild north we go

(Upon returning late from Mt South with Governor Liu)

 --to the tune of Xingxiangzi

Chinese original by Su Shi (11th Century)

English version by Julia Min (Mar. 2026)

To the wild north we go,

Galloping where shallow waters flow.

Across the plain on winding streams,

We chase spring and all her new dreams.

With wine comes many a toast.

To the clouds, cheers and laughter float—

In the soft breeze dance the long sleeves,

On the curled tresses swirls a scent sweet.

The wild geese fade into the sunset’s pale glow.

The crystal heaven falls into serene repose.

Homeward we go, but one sits on the hill at ease,

Drinking the view of us crossing a floodlit stream.

For Appreciation:

December 7, 1084. Su Shi and Prefect Liu Shiyan of Sizhou had spent the day roaming Mount South in Xuyi. As twilight fell, this poem came—spontaneous as laughter, light as the breeze that opens it.

The first lines gallop. We are instantly swept into the joy of a spring outing: ponds and streams, ripples and views. Two friends searching for beauty together, the suburban water landscape glistening around them.

Up on the mountain, a pavilion welcomed them. Wine flowed. Sleeves danced. Entertainers added music and swirling fragrance. Laughter echoed through white clouds. Nature and humanity, perfectly at ease.

Then comes the evening. Geese winged in the sunset glow. The sky reclaims its serenity. Time to go home.

The lasting power lies in the unnamed "one." While the governor's retinue crosses the lit bridge in a clamour of lanterns towards town, an unknown figure remains behind—seated alone in the mountain stillness—apart yet alert, unseen yet seeing. Never explained, never justified, this watcher embodies the Daoist and Chan ideal of effortless presence: being without striving, abiding without clinging, at ease with the world's passage. In that silent observer, we catch a rare glimpse of Su Shi's inner weather—a mind that, even amid official burdens and political storms, repeatedly turns toward stillness, watchfulness, and the deep accord of things as they are.

It is a mood that would find an echo centuries later in Wordsworth's "bliss of solitude," when joy, once lived, "flashes upon that inward eye." The watcher on South Mountain is not sad, nor nostalgic. He simply remains present, letting the day's happiness settle into contemplation as the lantern lights drift homeward through the dusk.

Reference:

1. baike.baidu.com

2. picture from google

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