Song Dynasty
生查子·药名闺情
相思意已深，白纸书难足。
字字苦参商，故要檀郎读。
分明记得约当归，远至樱桃熟。
何事菊花时，犹未回乡曲？
Translation
My longing has grown so deep that a sheet of white paper cannot contain it. Every word is filled with the bitterness of separation; that is why I ask my beloved to read it carefully. I remember clearly: we agreed that you would return by then. Yet even when the cherries ripened, you were still far away. Now the chrysanthemums are in bloom—what has kept you from coming home?
Analysis
This poem is a refined example of a “medicine-name ci,” in which the poet embeds names of medicinal herbs and substances into a love lyric. Words such as “xiangsi,” “baizhi,” “kushen,” “danggui,” “yuanzhi,” “yingtao,” and “juhua” can be read both as ordinary expressions and as references to materia medica. Yet the poem is not merely clever wordplay. The concealed drug names deepen the emotional texture of the piece. The first stanza focuses on the woman’s letter: her longing is too deep to be contained on paper, and every word carries the bitterness of separation. The second stanza turns to the passage of time. The promised return has not come; cherries have ripened, chrysanthemums have bloomed, and the absent beloved remains away. The phrase “danggui” is especially apt, because it means both an herb and “ought to return.” Through this double meaning, the poem makes longing sound natural, tender, and quietly wounded.
About the Author
Chen Ya was a Northern Song lyricist best known for his medicine-name ci poems. Although relatively little is known about his life, tradition associates him with a strong familiarity with medicinal terms, which he skillfully transformed into poetic language. His surviving work is marked by ingenuity, compact structure, and emotional subtlety. “Medicine-Name Boudoir Longing” is his best-known piece, showing how technical wordplay can still carry genuine tenderness and longing.