Chill River - recension

First four poems reedited

Chill River (1)
Meng Jiao

The hazy rains are cleared by frost,
The cold creek shows its thready fish,
By luck I find some mirrored sky
And look into my shrivelled self.
Nothing hides the scree below,
The riverbed is crystal bright
As motives in an honest man—
And yet it can be treacherous:
I’ve learned its vulgar, shallow heart
May freeze at night, but they ford at dawn.
So when I scoop bright jade to wash,
To cleanse myself of dust and doubts,
I find this trafficked, muddy stream
Cannot compare to a mountain spring.

Chill River (2)
Meng Jiao

In Luoyang there’s a street and stream,
A riverbank beside my house,
Where boats would break the bright white ice
And made it chime like resonant jade.
Green water froze to emeralds,
And spume became a diamond white,
This jewelled mirror shone and showed
All earthly things as levelled out.
The bank was steep, I zigzagged down,
A dead tree sprouted widow’s tears;
I smelled their frosty fragrance fade
As the frozen scene breathed gentle haze;
I sat, entranced, and listened and gazed,
Then rushed away, and lost my way.
In banks of thorns I hacked and called,
My words were full of dark despair.

Chill River (3)
Meng Jiao

At dawn I drank a cup of wine,
Then walked on snow across the creek.
The waves had frozen into knives
That slit the flesh of ducks and doves:
Their nesting feathers were strewn about;
Their blood and cries had sunk in silt.
I stood, unsure what I might say,
And intoned my moans without sound.
This frozen blood can’t start the spring—
There’ll be no balance in its life.
Cold blood can’t be the mulch for flowers—
They’ll well up just like widow’s tears!
Dead from cold, too frozen to farm,
How dark this brambled village is.

Chill River (4)
Meng Jiao

Their poles crack galaxies of jade,
Leave swarms of firefly ice behind.
The northern freeze froze deep, they moan,
And hungrily howl when their hunt finds
Carrion corpses of sunken fish.
Teeth of ice grind and gnash,
The sound of wind sours the bells;
There’s no escape from its clear despair,
It’s washed the detail from what we hear,
And ended lapping emerald waves,
So pretty pairs flap helplessly.
They cannot step; their feet will slip.
They cannot stop; a twig will snap.
A hoot! A yelp! A yowl for help
They raise their heads and pray for peace.

孟郊  寒溪·其一
霜洗水色尽，寒溪见纤鳞。
幸临虚空镜，照此残悴身。
潜滑不自隐，露底莹更新。
豁如君子怀，曾是危陷人。
始明浅俗心，夜结朝已津。
净漱一掬碧，远消千虑尘。
始知泥步泉，莫与山源邻。

孟郊  寒溪·其二
洛阳岸边道，孟氏庄前溪。
舟行素冰折，声作青瑶嘶。
绿水结绿玉，白波生白珪。
明明宝镜中，物物天照齐。
仄步下危曲，攀枯闻孀啼。
霜芬稍消歇，凝景微茫齐。
痴坐直视听，戆行失踪蹊。
岸重劚棘劳，语言多悲凄。

孟郊  寒溪·其三
晓饮一杯酒，踏雪过清溪。
波澜冻为刀，剸割凫与鹥。
宿羽皆翦弃，血声沉沙泥。
独立欲何语，默念心酸嘶。
冻血莫作春，作春生不齐。
冻血莫作花，作花发孀啼。
幽幽棘针村，冻死难耕犁

孟郊  寒溪·其四
篙工磓玉星，一路随迸萤。
朔冻哀彻底，獠馋咏潜鯹。
冰齿相磨啮，风音酸铎铃。
清悲不可逃，洗出纤悉听。
碧潋卷已尽，彩双飞飘零。
下蹑滑不定，上栖折难停。
哮嘐呷喢冤，仰诉何时宁。

---

After finding new resources (translations and discussion by Stephen Owen and David McCraw), I’ve had to revise my translations. The amount of disagreement over what these poems mean remains high, and I still don’t think any interpretation makes full sense. In a number of places, it’s not even known for certain what the Chinese text is supposed to be. But we have to s, but this is what I’ve got so far.

Meng is bouncing back and forth between the beauty of the winter and the savagery of the winter. He starts by noting that the apparent clarity of the winter stream is not as positive as it might be. When he goes down to look in the bright mirror, he gets lost in thorns. Then he notices that the winter is hurting the animals just as much as people. In poem 4, the animals begin to cry out for help, and in the second half of the series he’s going to try to act as an advocate for the animals.