166. After Long Rains at the Wangchuan Farmstead | Wang Wei
Text
English translation
Original Chinese text
积雨空林烟火迟，蒸藜炊黍饷东菑。
English translation
In the long rains the hearth smoke rises slowly through the empty wood; steaming goosefoot, cooking millet, the villagers carry meal to the eastern fields.
Smoke rises slowly only after long rains: the wood is damp, the air heavy. Carrying meal to the fields means bringing food to those who farm — the opening sets a farm noon.
Original Chinese text
漠漠水田飞白鹭，阴阴夏木啭黄鹂。
English translation
Over the hazy spread of paddy fields the white egrets fly; in the deep shade of summer trees the orioles sing.
The doubled words hazy and deep lay out the fields' emptiness and the trees' darkness. White egrets, yellow orioles — two flecks of color over the deep green of the paddies.
Original Chinese text
山中习静观朝槿，松下清斋折露葵。
English translation
In the hills, practicing stillness, I watch the morning hibiscus; beneath the pines, keeping a plain fast, I pick dew-wet mallows.
The hibiscus opens at dawn and falls by dusk — to watch it is to watch impermanence. Dew-wet mallows are the concrete fare of the plain fast. The two lines are the poet's own days on the farm.
Original Chinese text
野老与人争席罢，海鸥何事更相疑。
English translation
The rustic old man has done with contending for seats, level with everyone; why then should the gulls still mistrust me?
Contending for seats is Yang Zhu's story of being level with common folk; the gulls come from the Liezi — only when the heart is free of scheming will the gulls alight. The closing self-question carries a touch of pride: I have reached the state where no one need suspect me.
赏析 · Commentary
「漠漠水田飞白鹭」：添字成金的名案 · Hazy Paddies and Flying Egrets: the Famous Case of Two Added Words
唐人李肇《国史补》记了一个公案：有人说这两句本自李嘉祐诗「水田飞白鹭，夏木啭黄鹂」，王维只是加了漠漠、阴阴四字。后人多不以为抄袭，而认为加得好——水田上加漠漠，才见得田面的辽阔迷蒙；夏木上加阴阴，才有绿荫的层次；没有这四个字，白鹭黄鹂只是写实的记录，有了它们，画面顿时有了空气的湿度和光影的深度。这个公案恰好说明了王维写景的方法论：他很少发明新的物象，他给物象加上恰当的形容，让实景变成可以走进去的画。
The Tang miscellany Guoshi bu records a dispute: some said these lines come from Li Jiayou's paddy fields, flying egrets; summer trees, singing orioles, and that Wang Wei merely added the four characters hazy and deep. Most later critics see not plagiarism but perfect addition — hazy is what gives the paddies their wide, moisture-laden spread; deep gives the summer shade its layers. Without them the egrets and orioles are mere records; with them the picture gains the humidity of the air and the depth of light. The case is a summary of Wang Wei's method: he seldom invents new objects; he adds the right modifier, and fact turns into a picture one can walk into.
前两联是农庄，后两联是禅房 · The First Two Couplets Are the Farm; the Last Two, the Meditation Cell
这首诗的前四句和后四句像两个频道：前两联写农民送饭、白鹭黄鹂，是农庄的忙碌与生机；后两联写观槿、折葵、争席、忘机，是诗人自己的静修生活。两部分由「习静」二字接上——正因为庄外有农人的烟火，庄内的清斋才成其静。旧评说王维诗中有画，这首的画是双联画：一边是人气，一边是禅意，中间隔着一层积雨的湿气。尾联的两个典故（争席、海鸥）都指向同一个意思：我已与乡野无异、无机心可猜——自许之中带着退隐者的坦然。
The first four lines and the last four are like two channels: the first couplets on farmers carrying meal and egrets and orioles — the farm's bustle and life; the last on watching hibiscus, picking mallows, contending for seats, forgetting schemes — the poet's own quiet practice. The link is practicing stillness: only because the farm keeps its hearth smoke can the plain fast within be still. Old judges said Wang Wei's poems hold paintings; this one is a diptych — human warmth on one panel, Chan thought on the other, layered with the damp of long rains. The two closing allusions, seats and gulls, aim at one point: I am now as one with the countryside, with no scheming to suspect — the self-approval carries a recluse's ease.
积雨：全诗的底色 · Long Rains: the Ground Color of the Whole Poem
题目里的积雨常被读者当作背景带过，其实它是全诗的底色：烟火迟是因为柴湿，漠漠的水田是因为雨水积着，阴阴的夏木是因为天色阴沉，露葵的露是雨的另一种形态。把题目两个字读进每一联，就能看见这首诗写的是雨后还是雨中——答案是雨中：没有任何一句写放晴。在连绵的雨里，农事照常、鸟照常叫、人照常修静，这种「一切照旧」正是辋川生活的自信。王维晚年半官半隐，住在自己经营的辋川别业里，这首诗记录的是那种日子最普通的一天，也是最好的一天。
The long rains of the title are usually read as background, but they are the ground color of everything: the slow smoke is damp firewood; the hazy paddies are standing water; the deep summer shade is an overcast sky; the dew on the mallows is rain in another form. Read the title into every couplet and the question answers itself — is this after the rain or in it? In it: not one line mentions clearing skies. Through the unbroken rain the farming goes on, the birds call, the man keeps his practice — this everything-as-usual is the confidence of life at Wangchuan. In his last years Wang Wei held a nominal post and lived half-retired on his own estate; this poem records the most ordinary such day, and the best.