Tang Poetry is back from holiday

I visited the fabulous White Emperor Town

Apologies for the long break. I was doing a bit of tourism, then a bit of parenting, but I’m back, and feeling reinvigorated by a lovely bit of Du Fu I’ve been working on. That will have to wait for a moment, because first, White Emperor Town!

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Departing Baidi at Dawn
Li Bai

I leave Baidi in vivid morning clouds,
Three hundred miles to Jiangling in one day.
On either bank, the gibbons’ endless wails,
My tiny boat slips by ten thousand hills.

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Baidi, which translates as White Emperor, was a pinnacle of rock that perched above one of the iconic Yangtze Gorges. It’s tiny, and must have been more of a lone fortress than a town. But its location gave it iconic status, and that was reinforced by poems like this. Li Bai, dismissed from office and exiled to some dreary southern plague pit, was rescued by the intercession of his friends. The letter commuting his sentence caught up with him at Baidi, and immediately he set sail, returning to civilisation.

Today, the dramatic position of Baidi has been destroyed by the Three Gorges dam, which raised the water level by 100m. What was a steep cone of an island jutting out of the water is now a little rocky bump connected to the bank by a concrete foot bridge. There is no history left there, only a wacky theme park of olde-style buildings. I didn’t take a single photograph there, which is poor even for me. I can’t recommend it as a place to visit these days, and yet… I’m still glad I went. I just wanted to see it.

I don’t think there’s any sense in which cruising the gorges on a luxury boat can put you in touch emotionally with the poets of 1000 years ago. But it is useful just to see the river. Often you find that you need to literally visit and see a place in order to make sense of what the poets were saying. Oh, you say. That’s not a metaphor. It really looks like that.

But the Li Bai is not my favourite Baidi poem. My favourite comes from Du Fu, and is one of my freer translations:

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A Visit by Esteemed Personages (with Wine) After I Fall Off My Horse, Drunk
Du Fu

The governor’s old friend Mr Du
Had eaten well. The wine was strong,
And when I'd had a drink or two,
My ceremonial pike I drew,
And bawled an old-time song.

I called my horse and suddenly 
My youth came flooding back to me.
The horse's hooves went flying free,
They scattered Qutang stones and scree,
I rode triumphantly!

Above the clouds, above the river,
The gates to White Emperor Town.
My body crouched down in a sliver,
The horse galloped to deliver
Eight thousand feet straight down.

Those crenellations white as snow!
The flapping, snapping reins of red!
A lightning bolt in purest flow,
We burst from the cliff to the plain below—
I gave the horse her head.

Each river town and lonely shack
Came streaming past my speeding eyes;
The whip and bridle hanging slack,
We charged along that royal track,
Just gripping with my thighs.

Ten thousand people gaped in awe
To see this mounted white-hair coming,
And I recalled my days before
(You don't forget the nock and draw)
My hunting bow was thrumming!

I left our path to the horse's care—
She chased the wind, her hooves were quick—
Vermillion sweat on sable hair,
And nostrils pluming jade in the air,
But how could I predict?

She'd trip and buck, a catapult! 
I came down hard, a sorry case:
Life picks its moment to insult,
And just as you in joy exult,
Blows raspberries in your face.

So now I play the invalid,
All pale I faint on my divan,
My groans especially warranted
By the harm the years did,
A poor old man I am!

Your visit stopped my sad decline.
A brave smile on my suffering face,
I heaved myself up, stick and vine,
And leaning on this boy of mine,
Bid welcome to my place.

I spoke my lines and you replied—
I broke the solemn courtesy
By giggling so hard that we cried,
"Let's picnic by the riverside!
Your arms to steady me."

The wines! The meat! Another trolley!
Take more or risk my disapproving.
The string quartet's too melancholy,
Break out the pipes! Play something jolly
And get these old bones moving!

When finally the setting sun
Ignores our protests, will not shine,
We cheer the end of drinking fun
And from our upturned beakers run
The final drops of wine.

Friends, you rode to nurse and nourish—
You should think twice, you should think double.
I'll finish with a historical flourish:
Xi Kang wrote a whole book on this stuff,
And he got his head chopped off for his trouble!

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I have one or two more to offer from the trip, then we’ll get back to normal service.