Song Dynasty

水龙吟·次韵章质夫杨花词

Shuǐ lóng yín·cì yùn zhāng zhì fū yáng huā cí

苏轼

Sū shì

Shì huā hái shì fēi huā, yě wú rén xī cóng jiào zhuì。

似花还似非花,也无人惜从教坠。

Pāo jiā bàng lù, sī liàng què shì, wú qíng yǒu sī。

抛家傍路,思量却是,无情有思。

Yíng sǔn róu cháng, kùn hān jiāo yǎn, yù kāi hái bì。

萦损柔肠,困酣娇眼,欲开还闭。

Mèng suí fēng wàn lǐ, xún láng qù chù, yòu hái bèi、 yīng hū qǐ。

梦随风万里,寻郎去处,又还被、莺呼起。

Bù hèn cǐ huā fēi jǐn, hèn xī yuán、 luò hóng nán zhuì。

不恨此花飞尽,恨西园、落红难缀。

Xiǎo lái yǔ guò, yí zōng hé zài? yī chí píng suì。

晓来雨过,遗踪何在?一池萍碎。

Chūn sè sān fēn, èr fēn chén tǔ, yī fēn liú shuǐ。

春色三分,二分尘土,一分流水。

Xì kàn lái, bù shì yáng huā, diǎn diǎn shì lí rén lèi。

细看来,不是杨花,点点是离人泪。


Translation

It seems to be a flower, yet not quite a flower; no one pities it, and it is left to fall. Cast beside homes and roads, it appears, when one thinks of it, to be feelingless, yet it carries feeling within. It tangles and wears down the tender heart; like drowsy eyes, it wishes to open and yet remains half closed. In dream it follows the wind for ten thousand miles, searching for the beloved, only to be wakened again by the oriole. I do not grieve that these blossoms have all flown away; I grieve that the fallen red flowers in the western garden can no longer be joined together. After the morning rain, where are its traces now? Only broken duckweed floats across the pond. Of spring’s beauty in three parts, two have become dust, and one has gone into the water. Look closely: these are not willow catkins. Each speck is a tear of parting.

Analysis

This ci is one of Su Shi’s finest examples of object-centered lyric writing. On the surface it describes willow catkins, but the catkins gradually become the visible form of parting and grief. The opening phrase, “like a flower, yet not a flower,” is exact in both image and feeling: willow catkins are light, drifting, and difficult to name, and this uncertainty becomes the emotional condition of the whole poem. In the first stanza, Su Shi gives the catkins human feeling. They seem “without feeling,” yet they contain thought; they resemble tender intestines, sleepy eyes, and a dream seeking the beloved. In the second stanza, the poem turns from physical description to the irrecoverable loss of spring. The sorrow is not merely that the catkins have flown away, but that the fallen red blossoms can no longer be rejoined. Spring is divided into dust and water, into disappearance and flow. The final line transforms the whole poem: what we have been seeing is not willow catkins, but tears of separation. The power of the poem lies in this fusion of thing and emotion. The drifting, scattered, rootless quality of the catkins becomes the very shape of longing.

About the Author

Su Shi, style name Zizhan and literary name Dongpo, was a major Northern Song writer, statesman, calligrapher, and painter. He was one of the central figures of Song literature, accomplished in prose, poetry, ci, calligraphy, and painting. Su Shi greatly expanded the expressive range of ci poetry, allowing it to carry philosophical reflection, personal sorrow, political frustration, and vast emotional landscapes. Although often associated with a bold and expansive style, he could also write with extraordinary delicacy, as this lyric on willow catkins shows.