77. Looking at the Moon and Longing for One Far Away | Zhang Jiuling
Text
English translation
Original Chinese text
海上生明月,天涯共此时。
English translation
Over the sea the bright moon rises; at the ends of the earth we share this hour.
The verb is be born, not rise — the moon seems to grow out of the water. The opening couplet puts two places into a single moment, and the problem of distance is posed from the first line.
Original Chinese text
情人怨遥夜,竟夕起相思。
English translation
The one who feels deeply—I—resents the long night; all night through, longing rises.
The word rendered 'the one who feels deeply' means a person full of feeling, namely the author himself or the lyric speaker, not a sweetheart in the modern sense. To resent the long night is to find it too long; the long night and the longing feed each other.
Original Chinese text
灭烛怜光满,披衣觉露滋。
English translation
I put out the candle, fond of the room brimming with light; I throw on a robe and feel the dew has gathered.
The two lines are one continuous movement: first the candle is put out because the moonlight is already enough, then a robe goes on and the speaker steps outside. The view shifts from room to open air, and the hour draws on from moonrise into deep night.
Commentary
The opening places the sea, the ends of the earth, and this moment together. The moon lets people far apart share one instant, but it does not shorten the distance between them. The middle couplets leave the vast scene for actions in the night: longing, extinguishing the candle, putting on a robe, feeling the dew. The view contracts from sea and sky to the room, then moves outside as the dew grows heavy; the time stretches from moonrise deep into the night. In the last couplet moonlight is imagined as something that might fill the hands and be given away, but that wish fails at once, leaving only a meeting in a dream. The movement is exact: a sight held in common, a wakeful night endured alone, and finally the recognition that moonlight can be shared at a distance but cannot be placed in the other person's hands.
Original Chinese text
不堪盈手赠,还寝梦佳期。
English translation
I cannot fill my hands with it and give it to you; so back to bed, to meet you in a dream.
The phrase rendered as fill my hands and give it comes from Lu Ji, who wrote that the moon's light has brilliance to spare but cannot be cupped in the hand. The wish rises and fails in the same instant.
赏析 · Commentary
共同的月亮怎样写出「见不到」 · How a Shared Moon Makes Separation Visible
开头把海上、天涯和此时放在一起。月亮让远隔两地的人共享一个时刻,却没有缩短实际的距离。中间两联不写辽阔景物,只写夜里的动作:相思、灭烛、披衣、觉露。视野从海天收进室内,又走到露水渐重的户外,时间从月升拖到深夜。末联把月光想成可以捧在手中赠送的东西,念头立刻落空,只能回到梦里求一次相会。推进很清楚:先有共同所见,再有独自无眠,最后承认月光能共享却不能递到对方手里。
The opening places the sea, the ends of the earth, and this moment together. The moon lets people far apart share one hour, but does not shorten the distance between them. The middle couplets leave the vast scene for actions in the night: longing, putting out the candle, donning a robe, feeling the dew. The view contracts from sea and sky into the room, then moves outside as the dew gathers; the time stretches from moonrise into deep night. In the last couplet moonlight is imagined as something one might fill one's hands with and give away, but the wish fails at once, leaving only a meeting in a dream. The movement is exact: a sight held in common, a wakeful night alone, and finally the admission that moonlight can be shared across distance but cannot be placed in the other's hands.
五律的「起承转合」在这里怎么落 · How the Four Moves of Regulated Verse Fall Here
首联起得极开,从海面写到天涯;颔联收进「怨」和「相思」的情绪;颈联转为具体动作,是全诗的转;末联用梦作结。四联没有一个字提到对方在哪里、自己在哪里,全靠月光这一个物件把两头串起来。这种写法省掉所有背景交代,剩下的是两个人的同一时刻——五律篇幅短,正因为省,密度才高。
The opening couplet spreads as wide as possible, from the sea surface to the ends of the earth; the second narrows into the feelings of resentment and longing; the third turns to concrete action and is the poem's pivot; the last closes on a dream. Nowhere in four couplets does a word say where the other person is or where the speaker is; the moon alone links the two ends. This method drops all background and leaves a single shared hour between two people. Regulated verse is short, and it is precisely by omission that it becomes dense.
为什么这是最常被引用的望月诗之一 · Why This Is Among the Most Quoted Moon Poems
「海上生明月,天涯共此时」几乎成了望月的通用句式,原因在于它把一件很私人的事写成了可以共享的经验。人想念远方的人时,看到月亮是常有的事,而这首诗给出了一个说法:你在看,他也在看,同一轮。这个说法不解决任何问题,但它让人在孤独里有了一点凭据。后面三联转而写具体的失眠,反而让首联的普遍性更站得住。
Over the sea the bright moon rises, at the ends of the earth we share this hour has become almost a formula for moon-gazing because it turns a private experience into a shareable one. Looking at the moon while missing someone far away happens to everyone, and this poem supplies a way to say it: you are looking, and so is the other, at the same disk. The statement solves nothing, but it gives solitude a warrant. That the remaining couplets turn to a particular sleeplessness only makes the opening's generality more secure.