Su Dongpo – Water Dragon Chant

Last week, we did Zhang Jie’s Song Dynasty poem, the “Water Dragon Chant.” This week, we look Su Dongpo’s response to that poem, his own poem with the exact same title, “Water Dragon Chant.” We explore why Su Dongpo’s poem is so much better. 

Here is Lee’s translation:

It seems like the poplar flower is and isn’t a flower, 

no one cares if it falls down. 

It is tossed along the road home,

It looks as if it has no feelings, 

but the flower can love. 

Being dumped on the road hurts it, makes it anxious,

It casts those sleepy, flirty eyes,

it wants to open but stays closed. 

Dreamers follow the wind a thousand miles,

looking for a man, 

some even being aroused at the Oriele’s call. 

I don’t grumble that this flower flies off so far, 

what pisses me off is, in the yard, the fallen flowers cannot be put back together. 

Dawn comes, the rain passes,

what trace of the fallen flowers will still be there?

They will just be scattered across a pool full of duckweed. 

A flower is three parts 

two parts dust, 

one part water. 

Look closely,

it is not a poplar flower at all,

but rather the dripping of tears from a friend that left. 

Here is Rob’s Translation:

Like flowers and yet not like flowers, no one pities the poplar blooms when they fall to the ground. They are tossed to the side of the road home, and when considered closely, they have feeling, even if they don’t have scent [where did scent come from]. Worried over their loss of suppleness, their once-coquettish eyes grown weary, they wish to open but stay closed. In their dreams they are tossed far by the wind, searching for where their loved ones have gone, and when they return, it is the oriole’s cry they hear.

I do not regret these flowers that have drifted down; I regret the West Garden, where so many red blossoms have fallen that it will be difficult to recover. Dawn has come, the rain has passed, and where is there a space free of fallen blossoms? [I think this is off; it is about the flowers no longer being there, right? I do not see any negation in this poem] The pond is choked with duckweed. Spring [this refers to the flower, not spring, right?] has three parts: two have turned to dust, another has been washed away. When we look closely, we see, not flowers, but the tears from a departed one’s eyes.

And the original:

水龙吟·次韵章质夫杨花词

似花还似非花，

也无人惜从教坠。

抛家傍路，

思量却是，

无情有思。

萦5损17柔肠，

困酣7娇眼，

欲开还闭。

梦1随风万里，

寻郎去处，

又还被、莺呼起。

不恨此花飞尽，

恨西园、

落红难缀。

晓来雨过，

遗踪何在？

一池萍碎。

春色三分，

二分尘土，

一分流水。

细看来，

不是杨花，

点点是离人泪。