189. Climbing the Liuzhou City Wall, Sent to the Prefects of Zhang, Ting, Feng and Lian | Liu Zongyuan

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English translation

Original Chinese text

English translation

The high tower on the wall runs out into the vast wild; my sorrow between sea and sky is wide and boundless as they.

The verb runs out welds tower to wilderness — beyond Liuzhou's wall begins the unopened land. The sorrow and the sea-sky share one structure: neither has an edge.

Original Chinese text

English translation

The startled wind blows wild across the lotus water; the dense rain beats slanting into the wall of climbing fig.

The images have always been read as allegory: lotus and fig are the fragrant plants of the Li Sao — talent and virtue — and the wind and rain (the persecution of political enemies) single them out. The verbs wild and slanting are heavy ones.

Original Chinese text

English translation

The trees of the ranges, rank on rank, cut off the eye that would reach a thousand li; the river's bends are like my nine-times-twisting bowels.

Rank on rank and like my bowels equate the blocked gaze with the twisted heart. Nine-times-twisting is the old idiom of grief — the river's shape becomes a diagram of the mind.

Original Chinese text

English translation

Together we were sent down to this land of the hundred Yue and the tattooed; yet letters lag and tangle, each of us shut in a different county.

The recipients are his fellow-exiles Han Tai, Han Ye, Chen Jian and Liu Yuxi, prefects of Zhang, Ting, Feng and Lian. The drop between together and yet is the closing ache: exiled together, and even letters cannot get through.

赏析 · Commentary

给四个被贬朋友的信:一首诗的通讯录 · A Letter to Four Banished Friends: the Poem as Correspondence

题目本身就是一份名单:漳州、汀州、封州、连州四州刺史——韩泰、韩晔、陈谏、刘禹锡,全部是永贞革新失败后同被贬谪的「八司马」成员。五个人散在五个州,柳宗元登上柳州城楼,能做的只有望与寄。共来百越文身地的共字是全诗的枢纽:不是一个人在流放,是一群人被拆散在流放里。犹自音书滞一乡的滞字尤其沉:音书都不通,何况相见——这首诗本身就是一封可能寄不到的信。刘禹锡收到后的回赠之作已佚,但两人此后二十年的唱和一直未断,柳州城楼上的这一次张望是起点之一。

The title is itself a roster: the prefects of Zhang, Ting, Feng and Lian — Han Tai, Han Ye, Chen Jian and Liu Yuxi, all members of the Eight Sima, banished together after the failure of the Yongzhen reforms. Five men scattered over five prefectures; Liu Zongyuan climbs the wall of Liuzhou and can only gaze and send. The word together in together we were sent down is the poem's hinge: not one man exiled but a group broken into pieces of exile. The word lag in yet letters lag and tangle is heavier still: if letters fail, how much more meeting — this poem is itself a letter that may never arrive. Liu Yuxi's answering poem is lost, but the two men's exchange ran unbroken for twenty years after; this gaze from the Liuzhou wall is one of its starting points.

芙蓉与薜荔:屈原谱系的密码 · The Lotus and the Fig: the Code of the Qu Yuan Lineage

惊风乱飐芙蓉水,密雨斜侵薜荔墙表面写景,物象全部来自《离骚》:「制芰荷以为衣兮,集芙蓉以为裳」「薜荔柏兮蕙绸」——芙蓉与薜荔是屈原系统的香草,代表高洁的品格。柳宗元被贬柳州,地理上正在屈原放逐的楚地以南,用这套意象等于把自己编进屈原的谱系:美好的事物被专门的风雨摧残(乱飐、斜侵是「针对性」的动词),而摧残者是看不见的。这一联因此被历代解家视为全诗的枢机:明写岭南景物,暗写政治处境,两层严丝合缝。

The startled wind blows wild across the lotus water; the dense rain beats slanting into the wall of climbing fig reads as scenery, but every image comes from the Li Sao: I make my robe of lotus and my skirt of its flowers; and the fig of the Nine Songs — lotus and fig are the fragrant plants of the Qu Yuan line, standing for purity and worth. Banished to Liuzhou, south of even the Chu where Qu Yuan wandered, Liu Zongyuan enrolls himself in that lineage with these images: the good things are ravaged by wind and rain aimed at them (wild and slanting are targeted verbs), and the ravager stays invisible. Commentators have therefore read this couplet as the poem's keystone: the surface, Lingnan scenery; the layer beneath, political circumstance; the two fitted without a seam.

柳州城楼:被贬者能占据的最高点 · The Liuzhou City Wall: the Highest Point a Banished Man Can Claim

被贬者的活动半径被制度限定,城楼几乎是唯一合法的制高点——所以柳宗元、韩愈、白居易的贬谪诗里反复出现「登楼」「登城」「登郡斋」。这首诗的空间逻辑是从最高点往下看:接大荒(外扩)、芙蓉水薜荔墙(下视近景)、岭树江流(中层)——视线被三重遮断,最后落到音书滞一乡的最小尺度。全诗是一次由大到小的收缩:从海天到一乡,从望到寄。城楼给了他视野,却给不了他出路——这正是「接大荒」三个字最深的讽刺:看得再远,那片荒芜也是自己的辖区。

A banished man's radius of movement is fixed by regulation, and the city tower is almost the only lawful height — hence the repeated climbing of towers and walls in the exile poems of Liu Zongyuan, Han Yu and Bai Juyi. This poem's spatial logic descends from the highest point: out to the vast wild, down to the lotus water and fig wall, along the middle range of ridge-trees and river bends — the gaze cut off three times over, landing at last on the smallest scale, letters lagging between two counties. The whole poem is a contraction from large to small: from sea and sky to one prefecture, from gazing to sending. The tower gives him view but no way out — which is the deepest irony of runs out into the vast wild: however far he looks, that wilderness is his own jurisdiction.

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