24. Staying at Wang Changling's Place of Retreat
A poem by Chang Jian, translated by Hyun Woo Kim
The depth of the clear stream cannot be measured;
At the place of retreat, there are lonely clouds only.
The slim moon is revealed where the pines end;
It seems as if the clear light were there for you.
The thatched pavilion stays amid the flower's shadows;
In the herb garden, the moss has grown into patterns.
I also want to bid farewell to the times;
Luan cranes gather in the Western Mountain.
「 宿王昌齡隱居」
淸溪深不測
隱居唯孤雲
松際露微月
淸光猶爲君
茅亭宿花影
藥院滋苔紋
余亦謝時去
西山鸞鶴群
From Hyun Woo:
Remember Wang Changling? We read his poem three weeks ago. Today’s poem was written by Chang Jian after he stayed at Wang Changling’s place of retreat. It seems the place had been deserted for some time, as “in the herb garden, the moss has grown into patterns”, unless Wang Changling was a lousy gardenkeeper.
Jokes aside, it is likely that Wang Changling had deserted the place for good. Chang Jian and Wang Changling, two good friends, passed the imperial examination and became Jinshi together. It can be likened to becoming a doctor of philosophy or theology in medieval Europe, but harder: in the Tang era, only one or two percent of imperial examination participants would become Jinshi. This was one of the sure ways to become a high-ranking official later on.
Naturally, Wang Changling lived his life as a government official. Chang Jian could have chosen the same path but did not. He quit his job and retreated to a mountain. What would have Chang Jian thought, looking at the long-deserted place of retreat, once owned by his friend? Would he have thought about how their lives had crossed and parted? It is hard for me to tell.
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