Li Bai’s “On Visiting an Absent Taoist Master” presents a common situation in Tang poetry. The poet goes to visit a sage who lives in reclusion and happens to be out. The poet then learns the sage’s lesson simply by observing what is happening at the retreat while he is waiting. “Endless Longing” also involves a common poetic situation: a lover pining for a distant sweetheart. Whereas in similar poems the moon brings the lovers together by simultaneously shining on both of them, Li introduces the lunar conceit only to dismiss it as ineffective in this case. Li was notoriously fond of drink, both when alone and in the company of friends. In “Drinking Alone By Moonlight” he turns a solo drinking bout into a party by summoning the moon and his shadow to join in.
Li Bai (701-762, image right), wino, lunatic, came, they say, from far Suyab (now Kyrgyzstan) to less uncouth regions of Tang-Dynasty China, where he, much beloved by his fellow poets, allegedly drowned while drunkenly reaching for a reflection of the moon in water. During his lifetime and in later history, he acquired a fair number of sobriquets: “Winds of the Immortals; Bones of the Tao,” “The Banished Immortal,” and “Sage in a Cup.” He is one of the best loved poets in Chinese literature.
Li Qi’s “Lute Song” describes a winter drinking party made heartier by a master lutanist’s performance and the warmth of a stove.
Li Qi (690-751) was born and raised in the north of China in what is now Zhao County in Hebei Province. He later moved to the central Chinese city now known as Dengfeng in Henan Province. Seven of his poems appear in the Three Hundred Tang Poems anthology. Nothing more is known about him.
— Aaron Poochigian
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On Visiting an Absent Taoist Master
by Li Bai
The sound of dogs barking and droplets falling.
Peach blossoms batten on the bits of rain.
Deer surface from the deep woods now and then.
A little stream drowns out the noon bell tolling.
Above bamboo-spears aimed at pure-white cloud
meltwater dangles from a jasper cliff …
and no one here knows which way you went off!
How many pine tree trunks I’ve leaned on, sad.
访戴天山道士不遇
犬吠水声中
桃花带雨浓
树深时见鹿
溪午不闻钟
野竹分青霭
飞泉挂碧峰
无人知所去
愁倚两三松
/ / / / /
Endless Longing
by Li Bai
My whole desire is to join
your beauty in Chang’an.
Here insects on the well’s gold rim repeat their autumn orisons.
The sad cold keeps me shivering. My sleeping mat is ice.
The glimmer from the lone lamp dwindles as my yearning worsens.
I raise the blind, but gazing at the moon just conjures sighs.
Bright flower, you are as lost
to me as the remotest mist.
Above me, there’s the indigo enormity of night;
beneath me, there’s a river’s rippling yet limpid tide.
I try as soul to leap the earth and air between us, but
my dream self can’t get through the gate that marks the Great Divide.
Stuck here, a passion without end
is ripping at my mind.
长相思
长相思，在长安。
络纬秋啼金井阑，微霜凄凄簟色寒。
孤灯不明思欲绝，卷帷望月空长叹。
美人如花隔云端！
上有青冥之长天，下有渌水之波澜。
天长路远魂飞苦，梦魂不到关山难。
长相思，摧心肝！
/ / / / /
Drinking Alone by Moonlight
by Li Bai
I pour wine from the jug and drink alone
among the flowers — no friend, no company
till, flagon raised, I call the bright moon down
and bid my shadow welcome. Now we’re three.
Drinking, of course, is not a lunar skill.
Shadows are only good at copying.
No matter: blessed with pals like these, I feel
a joy that should at least last through the spring.
I sing; the moon sends shimmers from the ether.
I dance; my shadow jumps around like crazy.
A good while we keep having fun together
but come undone when everything turns hazy.
Best friends each launched beyond all worldly cares,
we’ll reunite someday among the stars.
月下獨酌
花間一壺酒，獨酌無相親；
舉杯邀明月，對影成三人。
月既不解飲，影徒隨我身；
暫伴月將影，行樂須及春。
我歌月徘徊，我舞影零亂；
醒時同交歡，醉後各分散。
永結無情遊，相期邈雲漢
/ / / / /
Lute Song
by Li Qi
After our host delights us with repeated rounds of wine,
he asks a guest, a master lutanist, to play a tune.
The moonlight reaching toward the wall finds only scattered crows.
Thousands of trees are freezing, and the wind is in our clothes.
We’ve got a copper stove for warmth, though. We’ve got candle glow.
After “The Emerald Tide,” he starts “The Concubine of Chu.”
The whole time we untalkatively bask in every note.
Rapture arrests the banquet till the stars have faded out.
I have to go so far from here beside the River Huai.
I have to climb through mountain cloud. I have to say goodbye.
中文原文
主人有酒欢今夕，请奏鸣琴广陵客。
月照城头乌半飞，霜凄万木风入衣。
铜炉华烛烛增辉，初弹渌水后楚妃。
一声已动物皆静，四座无言星欲稀。
清淮奉使千余里，敢告云山从此始