A Message to Meng Haoran – Li Bai

li-bai

Li Bai

Message to Meng Haoran by Li Bai (李白)

Master Meng, my heart hails you
Your fame rises to the heavens
You, with youth’s impudence, renounced the emperor’s kind hand
Choosing piney woods and clouds; and now, white-haired
Moon drunk, flower-bewitched, a sage of dreams
But deaf to the the Emperor’s ear
How I long to be with you, high in the mountains
To breathe in your sweetness, even here

French Translation – Message à maitre Meng

Maître Meng, salue de mon cœur
Dans les cieux votre renommée s’élève
Vous, qui, dans l’impudence de la jeunesse, ont renoncé au service de l’empereur
Choix des pins et des nuages; Et maintenant, les cheveux blancs
Lune ivre, fleur enchanté, une sage de rêves
Mais sourd à l’oreille de l’empereur
Comment j’aimerais être élevé dans les montagnes, avec vous voici
Pour respirer votre douceur, même ici

German Tanslation – Nachricht an Meister Meng

Meister Meng, Herzliche grüße!
Dein Ruhm erhebt sich im Himmel
Sie, der in der Frechheit der Jugend, auf den Dienst des Kaisers verzichtet hat
Leben in Wäldern und Wolken; Und jetzt, weißhaarig
Mond betrunken, blumen verhext, ein Salbei der Träume
Aber taub zum Ohr des Kaisers
Wenn ich nur in den Bergen mit dir war
Um deine Süße zu atmen, auch hier

Original Chinese

赠孟浩然

吾爱孟夫子 风流天下闻。

红颜弃轩冕 白首卧松云

醉月频中圣 迷花不事君

高山安可仰 徒此挹清芬

SOS

Somewhere in the back of my mind comes a refrain from ABBA’s song, SOS:

“Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find. I tried to reach for you, but you have closed your mind. Whatever happened to our love? I wish I understood. It used to be so nice, it used to be so good. So when you’re near me, darling can’t you hear me.”

“S. O. S.”

During the An Lushan rebellion, when war and famine devastated northern China, rebel forces captured the capital, and the Emperor fled south. Li Bai was captured but after a year he escaped. Forgiven by the emperor for remaining too long in the north, he never fully recovered his status; and his poems on a sadder tone.

Meng Haoran died during the rebellion. Older than Li Bai by a dozen year, he did not curry favor with the emperor, preferring his native province of Hubei to a posting in a distant province. His eccentricity was well known, and it is said that he threw away his poems after they were written. An admirer, Wang Shiyuan would gather them up. The story is also told that one evening he fell from a boat, intoxicated with wine, watching the moon’s reflection.

Why send Meng a message?

China had an ancient postal system that dated to the Qin dynasty (221 – 206 BC). Oistal stations were set up and couriers carried mail by horse and boat. Li Bai’s message to Meng was likely poetical.

Tang poets wrote messages to other poets, to the Emperor, to loved ones back home and to wives and lovers. If one could not be present in person, one could reach out and and touch a kindred spirit with the mind.

“Can’t you hear me?”

meng-same

Meng Haoran

It is a Cowboy T’ang

Just for fun, imagine a cowboy sending a message to his long lost love. It might go something like this: “Send a message to my heart on the wings of the wind. Let me hear your sweet voice sayin’, ‘You love me again, even though we’re apart, I hold to your memory. Send a message to my heart to keep you here with me.’ ”

Send A Message To My Heart Dwight Yoakam with Patty Loveless

cowboy-hat

Justin Cowboy Hat

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Spring Dawn

As Poet Meng Haoran observes in four lines of five characters each, some years Spring is late to arrive.

The earth is cold and the blossoms on the branches fail to bloom. Crows darken the sky; their stink fills the air. At night, nothing is heard but the sound of wind and rain; in the morning flowers rot on the ground.

Spring Dawn

Spring sleeps, I do not think it’s dawn
The air stinks and crows cry
Last night there was nothing but
The sound of wind and rain and
Where the flower blossoms fell, what’s left?

Francais

L’aube du printemps

Au printemps, je dors, je sais que le jour ne commence.
Des corbeaux puants pleurer partout et
Toute la nuit, j’ai entendu le son du vent et pluie, quand
Le prochaine matin, qui sait combien de fleurs sont tombées.

Original Chinese

春晓

春眠不觉晓
处处闻啼鸟
夜来风雨声
花落知多少

raindrops-on-branch

The Dawn of Spring, Meng Haoran

Meng did it in 20 characters. Not counting articles, prepositions, and conjunctions, I am close.

Sunrise and Spring sleeps .
The morning stinks as crows cry
In the night, there is nothing
But wind and rain while
Blossoms fall from the trees

Meng Haoran was not a successful civil servant. He remained close to home, living off the wealth of his land owning parents, and contenting himself with drink, friendship, and poetry, most of which dealt with the natural world.

“Does Spring sleep still?” Meng Haoran asks and concludes perhaps.

Now, gentle reader, may I momentarily divert?  Rachel Carson wrote in Silent Spring that, “There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature – the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” The cycles of seasons are refreshing.

Or, as Meng meant.

All night long, it rained, accompanied by a drum-like sound and pungent smell of  flowering rattan 夜来 . One could not breathe nor sleep. If this is not punishment enough, flocks crows (啼) gathered and added their sound and stink to nature’s mournful symphony.

When morning come, will the blossoms survive?

English Translation

Most English translation translations present spring in a kinder light.

“Spring sleeps, at dawn I do not wake
All around I hear birds cry
Night falls to the sound of wind and rain
While flowers fall and few remain”

The title is Spring Dawn, 春晓. An old proverb goes, the wise man sees one word and hears two. Does Meng speak of the dawn of spring or waking one spring morn?

The crows both stink and cry,  闻 啼 鸟, but the sense of smell 闻 is gone and we are left with bird is 鸟 that cry 啼, aka the foul smelly crow.

I recall an early morning in Bruges, Belgium. I would get up early to go for a run, delighted that it was raining. Disturbed by the weather, the crows would gather in city parks. The sound and stench was something out of a horror film. Combine the sound and fury with the thick white globs the defecating birds left and one has the beginnings of a movie, The Blob of Bruges.

Meng begins the third line begins with 夜来, night falls. It is also the Chinese word for Rattan, a vine we use in furniture making, but which has a night blooming flower that stinks. One could say, look beyond the words to find the meaning; this is the essence of good Tang poetry.

blossom-bird

Zhang Mingfu

winter-fenceA Cold Evening’s Feast at Zhang Mingfu’s
by Meng Haoran
A lucky first snow falling a full foot,
Evening eases in, and just at midnight’s nigh.
Mats arrayed, we wine companions beg
To cut the candle to a poem’s length.
Warmed by the fragrant golden ashes of the stove,
Her jade fingers pluck the lute strings clear,
And just then, befuddled, I wish to fall asleep,
Surprised awake by the cock’s cry.

The Morning After at Zhang Mingfu
Morning is a distant light that
Reveals ghostly figures in the naked trees
I open the window and shout
Silence,
Except for the cry of the cock
The snow still blows
Against Zhang Mingfu’s house
In go to the stove,
Where the silver white ashes are cold
And though I toss inside a sparrow’s nest and wood,
Then blow
No ember lights the flame

A cracked wine cup, an empty plate
Lie scattered on a wine stained mat
On the stool a silk scarf scented jasmine
The remains of
The girl whose face was white as snow
My companions gone
And when the cock-a-doodle-do
Fades to nothingness
I am alone