Song of Everlasting Sorrow

In spring’s chill she was granted a bath at Huaqing Pool;

Smooth warm spring water washed her delicate skin.

Attendants helped her rise, graceful and weak;

This was when she first received the ruler’s favor.

Cloudlike hair, a flowerlike face and a swaying gold ornament;

They spent spring nights in the warmth of lotus curtains.

Spring nights seemed too short; he rose when the sun was high,

And from then on the ruler neglected his morning court.

She attended his pleasures and feasts without leisure,

Following spring outings by day and sharing every night.

Three thousand beauties lived in the palace,

Yet all that favor rested upon one person.

Dressed in the golden rooms, she attended him at night;

After feasts in jade towers, they shared spring’s intoxication.

Her sisters and brothers all received lands and honors;

The family’s doorway shone with enviable glory.

Thus parents throughout the realm came to think

It mattered less to bear a son than a daughter.

The palace on Mount Li rose high into the clouds;

Heavenly music drifted on the wind and could be heard everywhere.

Slow songs and gentle dances followed strings and pipes;

All day the ruler could not see enough.

War drums from Yuyang came shaking the earth,

Breaking the spell of Rainbow Skirts and Feathered Robes.

Dust and smoke rose around the many-gated capital;

Countless carriages and riders fled southwest.

The imperial banner swayed; they moved and halted,

Traveling more than a hundred li west of the capital gate.

The soldiers would go no farther; nothing could be done;

The beautiful woman died before the horses.

Her flower ornaments lay on the ground, with no one to gather them—

Jade ornaments, golden birds and a jeweled hairpin.

The ruler covered his face, unable to save her;

Looking back, he wept tears mingled with blood.

Yellow dust spread in the bleak wind;

Winding cloud-high plank roads climbed toward Jiange Pass.

Few travelers passed below Mount Emei;

Flags were dim and the sunlight faint.

The rivers of Shu were green, its mountains blue-green;

Morning and evening the ruler remained absorbed in grief.

At the temporary palace, the moon was a heart-rending sight;

In night rain, the sound of bells seemed to break the heart.

Heaven and earth turned, and the imperial carriage returned;

Reaching this place, he hesitated and could not leave.

In the earth below Mawei Slope,

Her beautiful face was gone; only the place of death remained.

Ruler and ministers looked at one another, their robes wet;

Facing east toward the capital, they let their horses carry them home.

On returning, the ponds and gardens were as before—

Lotus at Taiye Pool and willows by Weiyang Palace.

The lotus looked like her face, the willow leaves like her brows;

How could he look at them and not let tears fall?

When spring winds opened peach and plum blossoms,

And when autumn rains brought parasol leaves down,

Autumn grasses filled the western palace and southern garden;

Red fallen leaves covered steps that no one swept.

The pear-garden musicians had newly whitened hair;

Palace attendants and once-young women had grown old.

Fireflies flew through the evening hall as he brooded in silence;

A solitary lamp burned down, yet sleep did not come.

Slow bells and drums marked the beginning of a long night;

The bright river of stars lingered as dawn approached.

Paired roof tiles were cold beneath heavy frost;

Who shared the cold kingfisher-patterned quilt with him?

Years passed in the long separation of life and death;

Her spirit had never come into his dreams.

A Daoist from Linqiong was a visitor at Hongdu;

Through devoted concentration he could summon spirits.

Moved by the ruler’s restless longing,

The ruler had the adept search for her with care.

He drove through the air like lightning,

Searching everywhere above and below the earth.

He sought the high heavens and the yellow springs below;

In both vast realms he found no trace of her.

Suddenly he heard of an immortal mountain beyond the sea,

A mountain in the mists between presence and absence.

Delicate towers rose among five-colored clouds;

Within them were many graceful immortals.

Among them was one whose name was Taizhen;

Her snowy skin and flowerlike face seemed to be hers.

He knocked on the jade gate of the western golden hall;

A message passed through Xiaoyu to Shuangcheng.

Hearing that an envoy of the emperor had come,

She woke startled from her dream within embroidered curtains.

Gathering her robe and pushing aside her pillow, she rose uncertainly;

Beaded blinds and silver screens opened one after another.

Cloudlike hair was half awry from newly waking;

Her flower crown was untidy as she came down the hall.

The wind lifted her immortal sleeves as they floated,

As though she danced again in Feathered Robes.

Her lovely face was still, tears streaming down,

Like a branch of pear blossoms wet with spring rain.

Gazing with feeling, she sent words of thanks to the ruler;

Since their parting, voice and appearance had vanished into distance.

The love shared in Zhaoyang Hall had come to an end;

Days and months stretched long in Penglai Palace.

She turned and looked down toward the human world,

Seeing no Chang’an, only dust and mist.

She could only offer old tokens to show her deep affection,

Sending a jeweled box and golden hairpin back with him.

She kept one half of the hairpin and one side of the box,

Breaking the gold pin and dividing the inlaid box.

If only their hearts were as steadfast as the gold and inlay,

They would meet again, whether in heaven or on earth.

At parting she earnestly entrusted one more message,

A vow known only to their two hearts.

On the seventh day of the seventh month, in the Hall of Long Life,

At midnight, when no one was there, they spoke privately:

In heaven we wished to be birds flying wing to wing;

On earth we wished to be branches joined together.

Even heaven and earth will someday come to an end,

But this sorrow stretches on without end.