51. Asked An Wanshan to Blow Music on a Pipe

A poem by Li Qi, translated by Hyun Woo Kim

The cut bamboo of the southern mountain turned into a pipe;

The origin of this music has come out of Qiuci.

Having Flown and spread to the land Han, the melody became more odd;

The barbarian of the Liang Province blows it for me.

Those who listen nearby sigh a lot;

Travelers from afar think of home and all shed tears.

The worldly people know how to listen, but not how to appreciate;

The long storm comes and goes by itself amid the winds.

A withered mulberry, an old thuja, and cold, rustling sounds of wind;

The cries of nine little Fengs scatter—jiu, jiu!

A dragon's growl and a tiger's roar rising at the same time;

A ten thousand noises and a hundred springs, each taking part in an autumn.

Suddenly, he plays the Beats of Yuyang again:

The yellow clouds are forlorn and the white sun darkens.

He changes the key, and it sounds like the Spring of Willows:

The flourishing flowers of Shanglin shine fresh to the eyes.

The night of the age in the high drawing hall, and the rows of bright candles;

A goblet of beautiful drink, and the sound of a melody.

「聽安萬善吹觱篥歌​」

南山截竹爲觱篥

此樂本自龜茲出

流傳漢地曲轉奇

涼州胡人爲我吹

傍鄰聞者多歎息

遠客思鄉皆淚垂

世人解聽不解賞

長飆風中自來往

枯桑老柏寒颼飀

九雛鳴鳳亂啾啾

龍吟虎嘯一時發

萬籟百泉相與秋

忽然更作漁陽摻

黃雲蕭條白日暗

變調如聞楊柳春

上林繁花照眼新

歲夜高堂列明燭

美酒一杯聲一曲

From Hyun Woo:

We are reading poems on music by Li Qi for the third week in a row. His images are entertaining, but I feel a bit exhausted, to be honest. It is rather too repetitive. To my luck, we will be reading poems by other poets from next week.

Qiuci is the name of a kingdom that existed where it is now Xinjiang, a region where not many Han Chinese lived until recently. Its most dominant ethnic group in terms of population is still the Uyghur, despite the migration of the Han. Li Qi refers to the pipe player, An Wanshan, as a “barbarian”, which shows that he was not a Han either.

Listening to his music, many images come to Li Qi’s mind, one of them being the “cries of nine little Fengs”. Feng is a mythical bird, sometimes translated as the oriental phoenix. In addition, Shanglin is the ancient imperial garden and hunting ground.

I translated “歲夜” as the “night of the age” since I liked the literal translation of the original term. The more accessible translation would have been ‘New Year’s Eve’. It seems Li Qi had a great New Year’s Eve party with “beautiful drink” and wonderful music.

If you enjoyed my work, you can buy me a cup of tea. I am not a coffee person, by the way.