归鸿声断残云碧,背窗雪落炉烟直。
烛底凤钗明,钗头人胜轻。
角声催晓漏,曙色回牛斗。
春意看花难,西风留旧寒。
The honking geese are gone to the north,
Just a boundless sky, puffy clouds torn.
Outside the north sills find yet some snow,
From the censer, long and still, a thin smoke.
The candlelight sees a puppet in gold paper,
nestled by my phoenix hairpin, shining in vain.
The dripping of water clock is often broken
by the Jin army horn blaring from beyond.
The stars are gone, nothing in the sky at dawn,
just the west wind to greet a foreign spring.
It’s not yet for the darling buds and bells.
My heart feels like water, in winter chill.
- to the tune of Pusaman
written by Li Qingzhao (Song Dynasty)
A strong sense of rootless and alienated sentiment is felt here as it was written in the early days of her settlement in Hangzhou soon after her loss of home, husband, and ten households of artistic collections. The scene starts at twilight through her sleepless night to the next morning. Not a word of loneliness or teardrops used in the work but hidden in every line. The wild geese are often mentioned in Li Qingzhao’s poems to symbolize her nostalgic and homesick feelings towards her husband and home at Qingzhou up north. Though she had some social life in this new land, but her heart stayed in the homeland of her dreams. Gradually, she withdrew to her small circle of friends, living the life of the Recluse Yi’an.
© 2024 CN-Poetry.com Chinese Poems in English