On a Visit to Li Yong Li Bai Peng, the Titan Bird, rose in the arms of the wind, Ninety thousand miles up in the course of one day. If the wind should calm, Peng will return to the earth, His wings concuss the sea; oceans will cascade away. How eccentric Bai seems, in the eyes of the crowd, How they laugh and sneer, vexed by an audacious tongue. “Regard them with respect,” Master Confucius declared, Why do leaders now offer contempt to the young? On a Visit to Li Yong Li Bai Once the titanic Peng Bird rose, Carried on jets of air, Ninety thousand miles straight up. If the wind lets up, It will fall, concussing the air, And whole oceans will rise. When they see my eccentric air, Men's hackles rise, They hear grand words and laugh it up. Confucius knew the youth may rise, And gave respect. So why give us up, Wise men, with a contemptuous air? 李白 上李邕 大鹏一日同风起,抟摇直上九万里。 假令风歇时下来,犹能簸却沧溟水。 世人见我恒殊调,闻余大言皆冷笑。 宣父犹能畏后生,丈夫未可轻年少。
I’m still a bit torn about which version of this to settle on. I think the first version is working better, but the fanciness of the second is very appealing. What needs to be captured is the strange mix in Li Bai’s poem of high diction and extreme directness. Li’s Peng bird doesn’t rise, it gyrates upwards. His ocean is vasty. He quotes both Zhuangzi and Confucius. And yet this is no learned exposition: it uses two personal pronouns, almost unheard of in Tang poetry. I’m quite liking the way the repeated line ends tie the two halves of the poem together in the second version, yoking these two separate elements together.
This poem is quoted repeatedly in 30,000 Miles From Chang’an, and is a bit of a totem for Li’s personality. You can see why: the brashness, recklessness, and brilliance are all here.