Having discovered Jeanne Larsen, I bought a copy of her Willow, Wine, Mirror, Moon: Women’s Poems from Tang China, and looked at how she approaches some poems that I’ve translated. The one surviving poem by Yang Guifei made for interesting reading - just in terms of page layout, Larsen seems to feel the same way about the poem as I do. She chose different wording, which I don’t want to try to imitate. But she also has a better reading of the source poem, which I am learning from and will shamelessly copy to make my old translation better.
For the Dancer Zhang Yunrong Yang Yuhuan When she dances Her sleeves pulse with fragrance that doesn't fade When she dances She is pink lotus, sinuous in autumn mist Set in motion by the breeze She is cirrus on the hilltop Tender willow that gives the pond its first caress 杨玉环 赠张云容舞 罗袖动香香不已,红蕖袅袅秋烟里。 轻云岭上乍摇风,嫩柳池边初拂水。
Yang Yuhuan (719-756) was the concubine with whom the Emperor Xuanzong fell in love as an old man (Guifei is a title, meaning ‘consort’). What we know of her is mainly the grotesque story of how Xuanzong took her from his own son, and at the end of his life, had her executed to save his own skin. Her own voice is almost absent from the historical recored, but she must have been an extraordinary individual, so it is fascinating to think that these might have been her own words.
In this poem, she comments on another dancer in Xuanzong’s harem. Lines two (“pink lotus”) and four (“first caress”) look like sexual references, presumably just euphemistic enough to be considered suitable for the official palace records. The cloud metaphor in line three may have been inspired by Zhang’s name, which means “cloud appearance” (though it may not have been her birth name; women’s original names from this time are often unrecorded).
The novella is starting: https://stirlingnewberry.substack.com/p/a-momentary-lapse-of-reason-01