Book of Songs
唐风·葛生
佚名
葛生蒙楚，蔹蔓于野。予美亡此，谁与独处？
葛生蒙棘，蔹蔓于域。予美亡此，谁与独息？
角枕粲兮，锦衾烂兮。予美亡此，谁与独旦？
夏之日，冬之夜。百岁之后，归于其居。
冬之夜，夏之日。百岁之后，归于其室。
Translation
The kudzu grows and covers the thorn trees; wild vines spread across the field. My beloved is no longer here—who is there to stay with me in solitude? The kudzu grows and covers the brambles; wild vines spread over the grave-ground. My beloved is no longer here—who is there to rest alone with me? The horn pillow shines; the brocade quilt is bright. My beloved is no longer here—who is there to keep the lonely dawn with me? Long are the days of summer, long are the nights of winter. After a hundred years, I shall return to his dwelling. Long are the nights of winter, long are the days of summer. After a hundred years, I shall return to his chamber.
Analysis
“Ge Sheng” is one of the most moving mourning poems in the Book of Songs. Its opening images of kudzu and wild vines spreading over thorn trees and grave-ground suggest life continuing after death, but in a desolate form. The key phrase is “my beloved is no longer here.” The absence of the beloved changes every space: the field, the grave, the bed, and the dawn all become places of solitude. The horn pillow and brocade quilt should signify beauty and warmth, yet without the beloved they only deepen the sense of emptiness. The three questions—who will stay with me, who will rest with me, who will keep the dawn with me—move from shared life to shared sleep to the loneliness of waking. The final two stanzas enlarge grief into time itself: the long days of summer and the long nights of winter become a measure of unbearable waiting. The promise to return to the beloved after a hundred years gives the poem its profound fidelity. It is not dramatic lament, but quiet, enduring sorrow.
About the Author
“Ge Sheng” is an anonymous mourning poem from “Tang Feng” and has long been regarded as one of the early Chinese tradition’s most powerful poems of bereavement. The Book of Songs often begins with plants and natural images, but here the spreading vines are tied to death, empty sleep, and the long passage of time. Its quiet intensity anticipates later Chinese mourning poetry, especially in its images of the empty chamber, the long night, and reunion after death.