好事近.风定落花深 原作：【宋】李清照 英译：闵晓红 风定落花深， 帘外拥红堆雪。 长记海棠开后， 正是伤春时节。 酒阑歌罢玉尊空， 青缸暗明灭。 魂梦不堪幽怨， 更一声啼鴂。 The Wind Stops to Mock the Fallen Crimsons - to the tune of Haoshijin translated by Julia X. Min The wind stops and mock the fallen crimsons now piled like snow outside my windows. I’m bound to memories of spring blossoms like the fragrance to the bare crabapples. After all the cheers over wine and songs, only the swaying lamps now stay to mourn, until swallowed by gloom and doom, until cuckoo birds wakes me before dawn. Other versions for your reference (茅于美 译): https://www.en84.com/dianji/ci/200912/00000886.html Appreciation: What’s unique about this poem lies in the choice of perspective and moment. Despite being a sentimental poem, it breaks away from the convention of traditional verse on windy description but a still moment after the wind, as if time is suspended for a clearer insight into her mind. Being an anchor poet in literature, she often takes readers’ breath away with originality and subtleness, such as the ci poem “A bit tipsy, I slept with make-up on” (to the tune of Suzhongqing) which chose a withered flower as the subject, as if she’s got the divine power to turn anything into gold. The relationship between dreamy world of the past and the reality is a popular topic during Southern Song Dynasty. Social conflicts in history seems to have initiated great literature without failure. This ci reminds me of Shakespeare’s play Love’s Labour’s Fantasy, a masterpiece on the fantasy of love and social success, and a hot theme throughout the Renaissance. Both the cuckoo bird and the crab-apple flower associate strong juxtaposition of spring joy and love with nostalgic sentiment, like rainbow and dark storm on the same stage, which ultimately lends to irony for a stronger artistic impact. The bird resonate with early spring, vitality, even pilgrimage spirit for a pure and ideal world, such as in To the Cuckoo by William Wordsworth (1770-1850, representative of British Romanticism).

The Fragrance of Pink Lotus Faded - to the Tune of Yijianmei Translated by Gordon Osing and Julia Min The fragrance of pink lotus faded, the bamboo mat chilled, slowly I undo my brocade, sighing, and step alone to my boat. The clouds were no letters wafted to me on silk, no swallows' letters mine; the moon's in the west porch, glows. Whatever bloomed and fallen, whatever flows still. In two sorrowful worlds, one heartsickness endures. Nothing can dull or drive away what and how we feel; what the brow loosens all the more the heart holds. Appreciation: According to Another Collection of Li Qing-zhao this ci was written in 1101, hen she had just married. Mingcheng was traveling quite far away and she is reputed to have sent him this poem painted on a silk handkerchief, a familiar gesture of special intimacy in those days. The ci is sometimes called, in fact, "Sorrow for Departure." It is remarkable for its openness and directness in expressing a lady's loneliness for her husband, a role somewhat precluded by custom in medieval,feudal China. The Source Text in Chinese: 一剪梅·红藕香残玉簟秋 作者：李清照 红藕香残玉簟秋。 轻解罗裳， 独上兰舟。 云中谁寄锦书来？ 雁字回时， 月满西楼。 花自飘零水自流。 一种相思， 两处闲愁。 此情无计可消除， 才下眉头， 却上心头。 Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: yī jiǎn méi – the musical tune hóng ǒu xiāng cán yù diàn qiū - pink lotus fragrance fade, bamboo mat autumn cold qīng jiě luó shang - slowly take off brocade dress, dú shàng lán zhōu - alone step on the boat. yún zhōng shuí jì jǐn shū lái - from the clouds who sends silk letter to me. yàn zì huí shí - swallow character return time, yuè mǎn xī lóu - moonlight fills the west balcony. huā zì piāo líng shuǐ zì liú - flower itself falls, water itself flows. yī zhǒng xiàng sī - one kind of lovesickness, liǎng chù xián chou - two places sorrow. cǐ qíng wú jì kě xiāo chú - this feeling no way to drive away. cái xià méi tóu - just down from the eyebrows, què shàng xīn tóu - but up to the heart. Notes: luo shang: dress made of brocade. yun zhong, etc.: a convention in classical imagery that flying geese are messengers. Lovers used to write / paint his message on a silk handkerchief. yan zi: the flying formation of the birds in the shape of 人 ( the Chinese character for man), a convention in love poems. yue man xi lou: The moon is in the west, i.e., it's after midnight, meaning she's been up all night. hua zi, etc.: the fallen flowers are youth's unanswered longings; the water flowing on is, as usual, time passing beyond recall. cai xia, etc.: When one stops frowning, the matter of the frown goes into the heart and becomes part of its burden.

Too Sad with Spring Passing to Braid and Comb - to the Tune of Huanxisha Translated by Gordon Osing and Julia Min Too sad with Spring passing to braid and comb, too quick the night wind blows the plum blossoms, too many the cloud wisps, blurring the dim moon. Neglected my jade incense burner, the duckling one, the fragrant heart and bed net lying in last night's ruins: a spell broken only by a gold rhinoceros' horn. Appreciation: The consensus is that this ci was composed sometime before 1107, based on its emotional urgencies. It is sometimes titled "Boudoir Sentiments". The original text describes the lady abandoning her own ennui for an outer world, which appears to mirror them in insoluble ways. Finally she says only the fabled rhino's magic horn could dispel the gloom. The western Freud would, perhaps, find a thing or two to speculate about in that. The Source Text in Chinese: 浣溪沙.髻子伤春慵更梳 作者：李清照 髻子伤春慵更梳， 晚风庭院落梅初。 淡云来往月疏疏。 玉鸭熏炉闲瑞脑， 朱樱斗帐掩流苏。 遗犀还解辟寒无？ Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: huàn xī shā – the musical tune; jì zǐ shāng chūn yōng gèng shū - hair coil sad for spring lazy to comb, wǎn fēng tíng yuàn luò méi chū - evening wind courtyard fall plum blossom begin. dàn yún lái wǎng yuè shū shū - thin clouds come go moon dim dim. yù yā xūn lú xián ruì nǎo - jade duck-shaped burner left aside/unused incense, zhū yīng dòu zhàng yǎn liú sū - red cherry mosquito net covers liusu. yí xī hái jiě pì hán wú - the rhinoceros could know drive away cold? Notes: zhu ying: red cherry, or heart-shaped pouch, used to hold fragrances, on hanging bed decorations. dou zhang: the bed netting, hung over the usual frame over the bed, inverted, resembling the shape "dou" (斗ㄩ), also a unit of measure. liu su: brocade covering, also hung over the bed frame to keep warmth in. yi xi: rhinoceros, horn, mythical, taken from an old story about Emperor Wen Di in the Sui Dynasty. When the Emperor received as a gift the golden horn of a rhino, his chambers immediately warmed and all expressed wonder. Later, the great scholar of Chinese medicine Li Shi-zhen propounded that the horn of a golden rhinoceros can drive away a chilly spell, meaning "Only in fable is there an end to this spell" .

Swinging, and Swinging Done - to the tune of Dianjiangchun Translated by Gordon Osing and Julia Min Swinging, and swinging done, too weary to rise and tidy-up even a maiden's hands. She can't notice either the thick dew appearing on the buds or the back of her dress' damp. Someone's coming! Sock-footed, golden clasp lost behind, she skips for her own rooms, halting at the door, of course not looking back for any reason more than to scent green-plums. Appreciation: There was a time when the critics refused to attribute this ci to Li Qing-zhao, because its subject tests the limits of polite subject matter, both in the imagery it employs and the frank， erotic boisterousness it suggests, certainly no lady of high breeding. It was often anthologized without an author mentioned, because editors couldn't believe she wrote it. Even the feudal boudoir was supposed to reflect Confucian judgement. This poem's personage is clearly a fresh, young girl, ready to linger for a glance of perhaps a gentleman she longs to see, and still almost a girl. Perhaps the guest in her garden is none other than Zhao Mingcheng, who will soon be her betrothed! The Source Text in Chinese: 点绛唇 · 蹴把秋千 作者：李清照 蹴罢秋千， 起来慵整纤纤手。 露浓花瘦， 薄汗轻衣透。 见有人来， 袜剗金钗溜。 和羞走， 倚门回首， 却把青梅嗅。 Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: diǎn jiàng chún – to the tune of Dianjiangchun cù bà qiū qiān – after playing on the swing, qǐ lái yōng zhěng xiān xiān shǒu – get up lazy to tidy up delicate hands. lù nóng huā shòu – the dews are heavy, flower buds tiny, báo hàn qīng yī tòu – steaming sweat light dress is wet through. jiàn yǒu rén lái – noticed someone coming, wà chǎn jīn chāi liū – walk on socks my gold hairpin slip off hé xiū zǒu - so shy, skip away. yǐ mén huí shǒu – leaning on the door, look back, què bǎ qīng méi xiù – but hold green plum to scent. Notes: lù nóng huā shòu – thick dews and tiny buds, the beginning of high spring; qīng yī – light dress made of brocade, gauze or very light fabric; yǐ mén huí shǒu – can’t resist the urge of looking back at the visitor, a naughty tongue-in-cheek, arch and even disproportionate for someone of her class.

On 21 July, 2021, it was sunny with a couple of showers when I was having my early morning walk while listening to the news about Covic-19 and trade conflicts between China and Australia. Rhyming lines stream in like a well never dry. So here they are: Winter in July By J. Min It’s sunny and rainy at the same time, not divided in the sky. The clear blue behind some ink clouds all on the East side. The Moon, dimming, holds no opinion on Down Under or Middle Kingdom. It’s summer and winter at the same time, Feeling divided by the equator line. Rain and Apollo blessing both seasons, Wrong or right, they never define On the dragons awakened Or the kangaroos, or kiwi island. Notes: 1. Seasons in the southern hemisphere is opposite to the northern hemisphere. But the rain season comes at the same time of the year. 2. 'Down Under': slang word for Australia and New Zealand; 3. ' Middle Kingdom': ancient name for China; JM: Your thoughts? Leave a comment and let me know :)

A Cold Sun Climbs Up My Crafted Window - to the Tune of Zhegutian Translated by Julia Min A cold sun climbs up my crafted window Thro’ Phoenix trees robbed bare by frost night. A bit tipsy, I prefer the tea ball’s bitter taste； For the broken dream I deem Dragon’s Delight. Why the day feels long but short thro’ the night? Zhongxuan’s poem only makes nostalgia right. Easy friend, easy aye, waste not the nice wine. On yellow chrysanths Tao’s insight enlights. Appreciation: This ci poem marks the theme mood of her later life after the fall of Northern Song Dynasty. It was most likely written after her husband’s death, in my opinion, though thought by others to be the year 1128 when her husband was appointed by the Emperor as the Mayor of Jiangling ( later changed to ‘Jiankang’ by the Emperer; today’s Nanjing City). Chrysanthemum is the flower in her late years. She has kind of monopolized it with unparallel verse that it seems to belong to her though she refers to Tao Yuanming here. Others would feel hard pressed whenever writing about the flower as it would seem better to quote her phrase than create a new one. An obvious shift could be sensed between the first couplet and the second couplet in each of the stanzas. It’s an uplift in spirit brought by a new broad-minded tolerance, at least some active effort, towards the sufferings. A precision of emotion with pointy language is empowered through the contrast of‘xiāo xiāo’ and ‘ hèn’ with ‘xǐ’and ‘yí’, ‘rì yóu chǎng’with‘bú rú suí fèn’and‘mò fù dōng lí’. Emily Dickinson might come to your mind. Such transcendence didn’t come easy considering her carefree childhood and a happy marriage suddenly shocked by the Jin’s invasion followed by their ten households of literary collections burned, and ultimately her husband’s death. Alone in a strange land in her fifties, Qingzhao had every reason to feel pessimistic and doomed. However, here in this poem she seems to have learned ways to calm down, to accept and live with miseries for a new balance, the kind of seclusive and vigorous temperament we would expect to see in gentlemen’s society, such as Su Dongpo, and Tao Yuanming. Miseries do make people stronger. we could see our lady now settled in peacefully for a life in seclusion with a much smaller circle of friends, a grace not lost in defeat during her remaining years. The song ‘Let It Be’ comes to my ear. The Source Ci in Chinese: 鹧鸪天·寒日萧萧上锁窗 作者：李清照 寒日萧萧上锁窗， 梧桐应恨夜来霜。 酒阑更喜团茶苦， 梦断偏宜瑞脑香。 秋已尽，日犹长， 仲宣怀远更凄凉。 不如随分尊前醉， 莫负东篱菊蕊黄。 Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: zhè gū tiān – Zhegutian, the musical tune for this song，which also defines the rhyming scheme and number of words used for this ci poem; hán rì xiāo xiāo shàng suǒ chuāng – The bleak and cold sun beams slowly climb up my windows carved with entangled designs; wú tóng yīng hèn yè lái shuāng – The parasol trees must hate the cold frost of last night; jiǔ lán gèng xǐ tuán chá kǔ – After drowsy drinking I favour the bitter taste of black tea made of brick-tea balls; mèng duàn piān yí ruì nǎo xiāng – When my dream is interrupted the aroma of Ruinao incense serves best calming me down; qiū yǐ jìn，rì yóu zhǎng – Autumn is now ended. Somehow the day feels longer; zhòng xuān huái yuǎn gèng qī liáng – Even Zhongxuan’s nostalgia for his homeland is not as miserable as mine; bú rú suí fèn zūn qián zuì – How about we forget the past, and drink up the wine of the banquet; mò fù dōng lí jú ruǐ huáng – Better not let down the golden chrysanthemum in full bloom by the East Fence; Notes: wú tóng –Chinese parasol tree, often used in Chinese literature symbolizing descent and pure love in spring and summer, while cold, bleak and lonely sentiments after the leaves fallen; tuán chá – hard-pressed brick-tea, in the shape of one-serve small ball or of pan-cake, which people of Song would first crumble into tea powder before serving. Premium quality brick teas are usually in the name of Dragon or Phoenix. ruì nǎo xiāng – Ambergris, a top quality incense, called Longxian Incense in China; zhòng xuān -- A prodigy in the late Han dynasty ( around 200 BC), the best of The Seven Gentlemen of Jian’an. Here our lady poet must refers to his most famous work “ Up the Castle”, a piece in perfect rhythm and rhetoric to express his intense nostalgia for homeland. dōng lí – from a famous poem by Tao Yuanming (365 – 427 AC), one of the best known poets of the Six Dynasties period. “ Picking chrysanthemum flowers by the east fence, my carefree mind sees only the Blue Mountain.”(translated by Julia Min). Chrysanthemum is highly regarded as one of the Four Gentlemen in plants, bearing the symbolic meaning of bravery spirit against frost and snow even though so tender and slim，a moral quality not lost in harsh times. Interesting to know that in English, a yellow chrysanthemum blossom in English signifies neglected love or sorrow.

All Spring Wavers this Cold Food Festival - to the tune of Huanxisha Translated by Gordon Osing and Julia Min All Spring wavers this Cold Food Festival! Over the jade burner the last smoke of incense curls and starting from dreams, from the pillow hiding flowered jewels. I find no swallows returned, so dou-cao with the girls. Withered are the wild river-plums, the willows cattails. By evening my swing hangs wet and empty in a dull drizzle. Appreciation: This remarkable ci appears to present the poet's consciousness of the moments in which her girlhood was ending and womanhood beginning. One notes her sense of urgency in this ci, her passion for getting everything out of life. She is in her latest teens or early twenties here, in girlhood dreaming, with a woman's jewelled earrings out of sight behind the ceramic pillow. The Source Text in Chinese: 浣溪沙·淡荡春光寒食天 作者：李清照 淡荡春光寒食天， 玉炉沉水袅残烟。 梦回山枕隐花钿。 海燕未来人斗草， 江梅已过柳生棉。 黄昏疏雨湿秋千。 Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: huàn xī shā – the musical tune dàn dàng chūn guāng hán shí tiān - swaying spring the Fire Forbidden Festival, yù lú chén shuǐ niǎo cán yān - jade burner incense curling upward last smoke. mèng huí shān zhěn yǐn huā diàn - dream wake up hill pillow hide flower ornament/ jewelry. hǎi yàn wèi lái rén dòu cǎo - sea swallows not yet come/return people Doucao Game, jiāng méi yǐ guò liǔ shēng mián - river plums (season) have passed willows grow catkin. huáng hūn shū yǔ shī qiū qiān - by dusk sparse rain wet the swing. Notes: han shi: Cold Food Festival, two days before Qing Ming Festival (April 5th in the Western calendar). Cold Food Festival is also called the Festival of Forbidden Fires, and commemorates an episode in Chinese history. It seems Emperor Wen Gong burned the entire mountain to flush out his general Zi-tui, who had chosen to die there rather than be an afterthought in the emperor's reward after a victorious battle. Remembering honor is the original sense of the festival. yu lu: Not necessarily jade, of course. They were also of metal and other stones. Jade, as is so often the case, denotes wonderful or harmonizing associations. shan zhen: hill-pillow, the ceramic, concave headrest ancient Chinese people slept on. hai yan: Chinese ancients believed swallows came from the sea. dou-cao: a card game played especially in the Spring and especially by young ladies and older girls. jiang mei: a wild river-plum tree.

It’s an Early Spring Day - to the Tune of Pusaman Translated by Julia Min With gentle breeze comes early spring, Sunny mood cheered by lighter trim. Then the morning chill sobers me like thorn, The plum petals on my hair dry and drawn. Where’s my dear homeland in my dream? Drinking seems the only hope to that realm. The burning incense felt cosy before sleep. The scent no more just a lonely soul at sea. Appreciation: Li Qingzhao wrote this in Ling’an after the long escape following Song’s Court from the fallen capital in the north. This ci poem is structured in couplets with the first two lines in seven characters, and the rest all in five, denoting a shifting of emotion from sunny mood to a growing sentiment evoked by the sight of the withered plum blossom and her drawn face in the mirror. The next stanza explains why she can’t feel happy even though the day is nice now after the long winter. The fate of the plum flower associates with her youth and the good life in her own homeland which is now just stories. Hence she is drawn to rice wine which helps her dreaming away, back to cosy home where her husband was still alive and they were so happy in a peaceful world. Such drinking habit and drunk state, often written in Chinese literature, especially in poetry, resonates intellectual sentiments rather than the vulgar out-of-control indulgence sensed by western readers. This poem is regarded as a strong intellectual criticism against the weak response of the Southern Song Court at the invasion of the barbarians from Jin State. Though a lady, Qingzhao had a braveheart as she had written many heritage poems in support of warriors fighting for the lost homeland. The Source Text in Chinese: 菩萨蛮·风柔日薄春犹早 作者：李清照 风柔日薄春犹早， 夹衫乍著心情好。 睡起觉微寒， 梅花鬓上残。 故乡何处是， 忘了除非醉。 沉水卧时烧， 香消酒未消。 Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: pú sà mán—Pusaman, the musical tune for this song; fēng róu rì bó chūn yóu zǎo -- wind soft sunlight thin spring still early; jiá shān zhà zhuó xīn qíng hǎo – spring dress and vest wearing feeling better; shuì qǐ jué wēi hán – wake up feeling a bit chilly; méi huā bìn shàng cán – the plum flower in my hair is withered; gù xiāng hé chù shì – homeland where is; wàng liǎo chú fēi zuì – forget only when drunk; chén shuǐ wò shí shāo – the chenxiang incense was lit at bedtime; xiāng xiāo jiǔ wèi xiāo – the aroma from the incense disappeared wine smell still lingers; Notes: rì bó -- sunlight cozy; zhà zhuó – wear / put on; bìn shàng -- on her hairdo near her forehead side; gù xiāng – her native place in Shandong and Song’s capital where she met her husband were all lost to the Jin invaders from the North; She is now in a strange place in the south, called Ling’an. chén shuǐ -- an incense made from a scented wood, often referred to as chenxiang today;

Warm Wind Sends Rain Melting the Ice - to the Tune of Dielianhua Translated by Julia Min Warm wind sends rain melting the ice. Green willow shoots by red plum blooms, like a maiden’s blush with glowing eyes. With whom shall I share this poem with wine? In tears my makeup washed is now dry. The new vest gown looks nice in golden lines. My phoenix pin broke as I lean on my side. The pretty hairdo feels heavy not sure why. Ah, where’s my dream of butterflies? Alone, I muddle wicks into sullied night. Appreciation: Most likely written in her thirties when her husband was away after being assigned to a new post. The legendary idioms ‘nuǎn yǔ qíng fēng’ and ‘ liǔ yǎn méi sāi’ originate from here and have been quoted or used by poets and writers since then. Chinese literature has always shown tremendous favor for plum blossoms, a jady flower that braves the frost and snow but also a strong message of early spring. Budding in pair on the branch, the icy jade petals, white or pink or red, represent pure young love, like pink rose in English literature. Willow has been another traditional subject, a symbol for the graceful young girl’s figure. The flower floating in the air is often used to hint an unsettled life experience. To associate willow shoots to a beauty’s eye appeared first in Su Dongpo’s ci poem “ In reply to Zhang Zhifu’s 'Ode on Catkin Willows'” ("Their twining flowers wound a heart whose tender eyes/Are trying to open, but close upon a dream ten thousand miles/Away, seeking her husband where he’s gone. Then oriole wakens!" – from our book Blooming Alone in Winter) As we all know our poet had a profound interest in Dongpo’s work. What refreshes creative minds here is that she was able to infuse the image with only two simple words, literally, ' willow eye'. In the two short stanzas, Yi’an leads the readers into her scene, a vivid visionary artistic stage which begins with a romantic spring view contrasting her sentiments in the following lines. The volta or the turn of this poem stays on the couplet at the end of each stanza, the first one concluding her weary state during the day, followed by the return of a dreary night in the second couplet. The structure moves from outward sight to inward sentiment in the form of a monologue. The last two lines strikes me with an image so vivid that I could hear her sigh while cutting the wicks, an image born only after one’s life experience. The Source Text in Chinese: 蝶恋花·暖雨晴风初破冻 作者：李清照 暖雨晴风初破冻， 柳眼梅腮， 已觉春心动。 酒意诗情谁与共？ 泪融残粉花钿重。 乍试夹衫金缕缝， 山枕斜欹， 枕损钗头凤。 独抱浓愁无好梦， 夜阑犹剪灯花弄。 Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: dié liàn huā – to the tune of Dielianhua nuǎn yǔ qíng fēng chū pò dòng – warm rain cosy wind start breaking the ice liǔ yǎn méi sāi - willow-shaped eye, plum budding cheeks yǐ juē chūn xīn dòng – already feel spring sensations jiǔ yì shī qíng shuí yǔ gòng – this romantic poem and wine who can I share with lèi róng cán fěn huā diàn zhòng - tears melted make-up, hair ornaments feel heavy zhà shì jiá shān jīn lǚ féng – first try on vest gown made with golden threads shān zhěn xiá yī – against hill-shaped pillow I leaned on my side zhěn sǔn chāi tóu fèng – the pillow damaged my phoenix hairpin dú bào nóng chóu wú hǎo mèng -alone in deep sorrow I have no good dream yè lán yóu jiǎn dēng huā nòng – late at night I cut candles wicks as if playing Notes: wú tóng –Chinese parasol tree, often used in Chinese literature symbolizing descent and pure love in spring and summer, while cold, bleak and lonely sentiments after the leaves fallen; tuán chá – hard-pressed brick-tea, in the shape of one-serve small ball or of pan-cake, which people of Song would first crumble into tea powder before serving. Premium quality brick teas are usually in the name of Dragon or Phoenix. ruì nǎo xiāng – Ambergris, a top quality incense, called Longxian Incense in China; zhòng xuān -- A prodigy in the late Han dynasty ( around 200 BC), the best of The Seven Gentlemen of Jian’an. Here our lady poet must refers to his most famous work “ Up the Castle”, a piece in perfect rhythm and rhetoric to express his intense nostalgia for homeland. dōng lí – from a famous poem by Tao Yuanming (365 – 427 AC), one of the best known poets of the Six Dynasties period. “ Picking chrysanthemum flowers by the east fence, my carefree mind sees only the Blue Mountain.”(translated by Julia Min). Chrysanthemum is highly regarded as one of the Four Gentlemen in plants, bearing the symbolic meaning of bravery spirit against frost and snow even though so tender and slim，a moral quality not lost in harsh times. Interesting to know that in English, a yellow chrysanthemum blossom in English signifies neglected love or sorrow.

A Chill Wind Woke Me Before Dawn - to the Tune of Langtaosha Translated by Julia Min A chill wind woke me before dawn; Away my rosy dream was blown. My feet find the drawing room upstairs, A glimpse of you in every texture there. The incense burner is empty and cold, Tho’ my hairpin recalls poking for sweet smoke. In the distance, a thick mist enfolds Mt Purple Gold in spring drizzle. The tears on my dress are hard to hold Like a river awoke to a growing flow. Could this tippler send across this poem By the messenger geese flying in rows? Appreciation: It’s still arguable if this poem was written by Li Qingzhao or Ou Yangxiu as historical records remain insufficient to settle the matter. Contemporary anthologies tend to put it under our lady poet maybe because Mount Purple Gold, the drawing room, hairpin, flooding tears and the general artistic tone associate to a female. Such discussions have probably made this poem even more recognized among other mourning poems. This ci poem is like a monologue describing a solitary moment of her life. The scene streams in from her bedroom where her good dream is disrupted by chilly wind just before dawn. Filled with grief, she steps upstairs chasing her unfinished dream in the drawing room where she and her love spent so many happy moments together writing poems, playing literary games, enjoying tea and wine. The incense burner used to fill the room with sweet aroma. Happy hours went quickly and often she used her hairpin to poke the incense covered with ash. Now the place is nothing but fresh memory. The second stanza brings the reader to the moment, to the distant view from the window. Nothing seems changed in the natural world. Mount Purple Gold is still mysteriously beautiful with a misty cloud crown. At the bottom the river, awoke from winter, is now full of vitality. Mother Nature is just happy carrying on with routine, ignoring her loss and the turmoil of the human society during a war between the Song and the Jin. So she turns to the sky where a row of wild geese are flying by. Perhaps she could talk to them for a favor sending this poem to her love now in heaven. Grief is a part of life, and the most persistent one. In literature, tragedies tend to have a stronger and longer impact on readers than comedies. Emily Dickinson comes to my mind with her famous lines: “Grief is a Mouse—/And chooses Wainscot in the Breast.” And the best poets were often born during dramatic periods of natural disasters or social conflicts. Such, was Li Qingzhao. The Source Text in Chinese: 浪淘沙·帘外五更风 作者：李清照 帘外五更风， 吹梦无踪。 画楼重上与谁同？ 记得玉钗斜拨火， 宝篆成空。 回首紫金峰， 雨润烟浓。 一江春浪醉醒中。 留得罗襟前日泪， 弹与征鸿。 Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: làng táo shā – the musical tune for this ci poem / song; lián wài wǔ gèng fēng – wind blows in through the curtain before dawn chuī mèng wú zōng – blowing away my dream without a trace huà lóu zhòng shàng yǔ shuí tóng – again I step upstairs to my drawing room jì dé yù chāi xié bō huǒ – I remember I used my jade hairpin to poke the burning incense bǎo zhuàn chéng kōng – now Baozhuan Incense is no longer found in the empty burner huí shǒu zǐ jīn fēng – looking back, I can see Mount Purple Gold from here yǔ rùn yān nóng – nourished in misty rain and thick fog yī jiāng chūn làng zuì xǐng zhōng – the river with spring waves is awake from dormant winter like a tippler just awake from a dream; liú dé luó jīn qián rì lèi – still wet is my dress from tears of the day before tàn yǔ zhēng hóng – if I could play this song to the flying geese in the sky

乌江绝句 （又题：夏日绝句） 作者：李清照 生当作人杰， 死亦当鬼雄。 至今思项羽， 不肯过江东。 By the River of Wujiang Translated by Julia Min Alive I’d be a hero for the people; dead, a paragon of ghosts in Hell. Beyond time still shines Xiangyu the General, who’d die to live than homeland to the foe. Appreciation: It was during the early years of Southern Song dynasty when the Royal Court and high officials were fleeing for life to the south, a hot period in history of “To Be or Not to Be”. The style of this poem manifests such heroic momentum, so powerful that you might doubt if it were her creation. Yes it is, and she wrote some more which were so popular that some lines were frequently quoted by other writers of her time. Every word sounds like the swing of a sword, that could only be compared by lyrics like “By the River of Babylon”. The world image of a sentimental lady from crafted boudoir seems now blended with new significance, --- a heroic writer whose sense and sensibility not only rhymed the pretty and witty, subtle and graceful qualities of a gentle class, but also witnessed courage and sharp criticism against the weakness of the Song Court, or perhaps also referring to her husband’s midnight escape for his own life leaving the city to the mercy of the Jin when he was the mayor. Irony is strongly felt with the reference to General Xiangyu, a loud call for heroic devotion to the homeland north of the River. I’d say, the bold language fleshes out a relentless warrior image that could match Joan of Arc, so impressive and influential that the gentlemen’s society must have felt even more shameful for their escape. Notes: 1. This poem has a different title in some publications --- “A Summer Day in the South”. 2. “xia ri”: summer season; Chinese culture sees the Five Elements (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water ) associated with different aspect of nature, such as direction, season, color, shape, etc. These are the fundamentals of universal rules governing all changes. The four seasons resonate the four directions. Here, summer is associated with south and fire, an ironic reference to Song’s flee to the south when the country is in war with invaders from the North. 3. “WuJiang”: a branch of the Yangtze River； 4. “Xiangyu”: (232 – 202 BC) a military general, a politician from a noble family of the Chu State（703-223BC）. He was granted “ Duke of Lu” in 208 BC . The peak of his life saw a 25 year-old leader of 50 thousand warriors perform a miraculous win over Qin State of 400 thousand soldiers. Next, he crowned himself the “Hegemon-King of Western Chu” in his capital Pengcheng，governing vast land from central to the east. Today he is regarded as “the Bravest of the Bravest” by Chinese historians, like the Braveheart of Scotland. It was recorded that he never lost a single battle except the last one by the River of Wujiang where Xiangyu chose death than stepping on the boat for River East. Yet he lives in people’s mind as one of the most referred figure in literature throughout history.

如梦令 - 昨夜雨疏风骤 作者：李清照 昨夜雨疏风骤， 浓睡不消残酒。 试问卷帘人， 却道海棠依旧。 知否？知否？ 应是绿肥红瘦。 Last Night Fierce Gusts of Autumn Rain - To the Tune of Rumengling Translated by Gordon Osing and Julia Min Last night fierce gusts of Autumn rain lashed where I slumbered through wine dreams. I started and my girl at the morning screen answered, "Ah, the blooming crabapple's just the same…" She won't see……she can't…… the green now darkens, the crimson withering. Appreciation: It is again late Spring, which is to say nearly early Autumn, when the trees and bushes lose their blooms. The large, scattered raindrops are also metonymical of Fall, a familiar motif in Chinese poetry. The Tang Dynasty poet Meng Haoran wrote, " I heard last night's wind and rain. / who knows how many flowers have fallen?" This motif corresponds to the "snow and roses of yesterday" in Western poetry. This ci is usually placed in the early years of Li Qingzhao's married life, before 1107, when her husband was frequently away on official duties. She was in her twenties, and confesses painful loneliness, erotic, too, it seems, for her absent husband. Night storms and lonely drinking leave the familiar crabapple outside her bedroom to be faced in the morning, its blossoms, if not ravaged by the rains, losing their vitality to the change of seasons anyway. The motif is a sigh over youthful days going away so quickly. Pinying and Word -For-Word Translation: rú mèng lìng - to the tune of Rumengling zuó yè yǔ shū fēng zhòu - last night rain sparse wind sudden/violate； nóng shuì bú xiāo cán jiǔ – deep sleep can't waken drunkenness； shì wèn juàn lián rén - try to ask roll up curtain person； què dào hǎi táng yī jiù - but replied " the flowering crabapple is still the same." zhī fǒu ？zhī fǒu ？- "Dont you know? Don't you know? yīng shì lǜ féi hóng shòu - It should be green fat red thin." Notes: 1. "yu shu": big raindrops, often referring to autumn rain. 2. "feng zhou": wind driven, or chased. 3. "juan lian ren": roll screen girl, i.e. her maid. 4. "que dao": reply instead, a phrasing which simply omits the lady's question: What is the condition of the flowering crabapple? Apparently she hardly needed to ask. Her maid knows her mind. 5. "zhi fou": denies the maid her matter-of-fact second guessing of her mistress. There is in this language not a little disdain for the maid's commonplace unawareness of the lady's passionate regard for her own aristocratic sensuality. 6. "lu fei hong shou": literally, blossoms drawn against big green leaves, meaning the lady's look is Monet-like, intimate with the altered shape and color with which she identifies her most private feelings.