55. The Farewell to Those Who Will Stay at a Tavern of Jinling

A poem by Li Bai, translated by Hyun Woo Kim

The wind blows the willow flowers, filling the inn with fragrance;

The ladies of Wu press the liquor, calling to the guests to try.

The young men of Jinling come and see each other off;

Those who will go, those who will not, each empty his goblet.

I invite you to ask the water flowing east, to test it:

Which is short and which is long, the thoughts of farewell or itself?

「金陵酒肆留別」

風吹柳花滿店香

吳姬壓酒喚客嘗

金陵子弟來相送

欲行不行各盡觴

請君試問東流水

別意與之誰短長

From Hyun Woo:

Ah, a short poem in such a long time! (Thank you, Mr. Li!) We are going through rather long poems these weeks, and for the coming months, we won’t be reading any poem as short as this one. So let’s consider this week’s poem as a rest spot for both of us. Translating a Tang poem a week is still enjoyable, but not as easy as I thought when I launched the newsletter.

I believe I have translated the word used in the poem’s title, “留別”, just as farewell so far. It was only this week that I found out the word is only used when someone leaving says goodbye to someone who will stay, not the other way around. Thus the rather lengthy phrase in the translation of the title, “The Farewell to Those Who Will Stay”. We can also infer that when Li Bai was writing this poem and saying goodbye to his acquaintances, it was Li Bai who was leaving. Also, I tried to translate the last line as literally as possible. To paraphrase what Li Bai was saying in a way accessible to English readers will be something like: ‘will the river flow longer than how long I will miss you?’

Jinling is an old name of Nanjing, which means that “the water flowing east” would be none other than the Yangtze, the longest river in Eurasia. Li Bai spent some time in Nanjing, the cultural capital of South China where many royals, scholars, artists, and rich kids lived. It seems Li Bai enjoyed quite a party life there, presumably relying on the money his father sent him. His father, Li Ke, was a rich merchant in the west, and Li Bai himself is thought to have been born in present-day Kyrgyzstan. To be fair, Li Bai’s own testimony on his birthplace, recorded by Li Yangbing, states that he was born in Tiaozhi (條支): a rather vague term that can even refer to parts of Afghanistan. (“So, where are you from?” “Well, the Coast.”) This is why some speculate that Li Bai was a Persian or Turk by ethnicity.

Anyhow, who doesn’t like an exotic rock star with a rich dad who knows how to throw a party? That was how exactly Li Bai was received in Nanjing, I guess. And his other poems show that he was occasionally taking drugs too, believing in the Taoist alchemy… (The last time poets were treated like rock stars was in the nineteenth century, right? Or do the Beat Generation count? Are rock stars treated like rock stars these days, even?)

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