60. At Secretary Wei Feng's House, Seeing General Cao's Horse Painting
A poem by Du Fu, translated by Hyun Woo Kim
From the beginning of the nation, in painting saddled horses,
Only the King of Jiangdu had been counted as marvelous.
In the thirtieth year after the General had gained fame,
The world saw the true Chenghuang again.
Before, the preceding emperor traced Zhaoyebai:
Thunderbolts flying at the Dragon Pond for ten days.
The agate table at the Royal Warehouse;
A court lady conveyed the emperor's command, and a lady-in-waiting found it.
Having received the table, the General bowed and returned dancing;
Light and fine silk followed, fluttering.
The royal relatives and powerful families gained his works of brush,
To notice at last that their folding screens were producing bright light.
In the past, Taizong's Quanmaogua;
In recent times, Guo family's Shizihua.
There are two horses in the new painting of today,
Making the learned men sigh for long again.
All these, in cavalry battles, could fight against ten thousand with one:
White silk, wide and wide, opening through winds and sand.
The other seven horses are also remarkable:
From far, like a mix of fog and snow of the cold sky.
The frost-hoofs rush and gallop between the long walnut trees;
Cavalry officers and yardmen form forest-like ranks.
Touchingly, the nine horses compete in their divine excellence;
Their eyes, looking back, are pure and aloof, and their expression deep and gentle.
Let me ask, stumping: who was it that loved?
Later, there was Wei Feng, and before, Zhi Dun.
I remember the past when the emperor went to the Xinfeng Palace:
The kingfisher-feather flag brushed against the sky, towards the east.
There were thirty thousand horses that jumped, unrestrained,
All of them with the same muscles and bones, like those in this painting.
Since he had audience of the River Emperor, offering treasures,
Never again did he shoot a Jiaolong in the middle of the river.
Do you not see?
In front of the heap at Jinsu, between the pines and thujas,
Fine horses left and are gone, and birds cry towards the wind.
「韋諷錄事宅觀曹將軍畫馬圖」
國初已來畫鞍馬
神妙獨數江都王
將軍得名三十載
人間又見真乘黃
曾貌先帝照夜白
龍池十日飛霹靂
內府殷紅瑪瑙盤
婕妤傳詔才人索
盤賜將軍拜舞歸
輕紈細綺相追飛
貴戚權門得筆跡
始覺屏障生光輝
昔日太宗拳毛騧
近時郭家獅子花
今之新圖有二馬
復令識者久嘆嗟
此皆騎戰一敵萬
縞素漠漠開風沙
其餘七匹亦殊絕
迥若寒空雜煙雪
霜蹄蹴踏長楸間
馬官廝養森成列
可憐九馬爭神駿
顧視清高氣深穩
借問苦心愛者誰
後有韋諷前支遁
憶昔巡幸新豐宮
翠華拂天來向東
騰驤磊落三萬匹
皆與此圖筋骨同
自從獻寶朝河宗
無復射蛟江水中
君不見
金粟堆前松柏裏
龍媒去盡鳥呼風
From Hyun Woo:
Long time no see, Du Fu! We haven’t been reading his poems for months. Today’s poem from him is rather hard to understand, not because of obscure expressions but because we do not share the cultural contexts of his world. From the title, we can easily infer that the poem was written after Du Fu saw General Cao’s horse painting. “King of Jiangdu” was very skilled at painting horses, but now, the new star of horse painting is General Cao. His painting reminds Du Fu of “Chenghuang”, a mythical horse-like creature. Meanwhile, the “preceding emperor” must have been good at painting horses too, considering that the horse, “Zhaoyebai”, painted by him was like “thunderbolts flying”.
Thus, it is no wonder the emperor, who would draw horses himself, was delighted by General Cao’s horse paintings. He even gave General Cao an agate table along with silk. The nobles were very fond of his horse paintings also, noticing that “their folding screens”, where the paintings would have been attached, “producing bright light.”
After mentioning two famous horses, “Quanmaogua” and “Shizihua”, Du Fu goes on to describe General Cao’s painting. In the painting, it seems there are nine horses in total: two white horses like “white silk” and seven like “a mix of fog and snow”. Such horses were loved by “Zhi Dun” before and now by “Wei Feng”. (Of course. If you don’t like horses, why keep a horse painting at your house?)
Then, Du Fu remembers the day when “the emperor went to the Xinfeng Palace”. “Thirty thousand” horses accompanied the emperor, and they looked like the horses in the painting. However, the emperor who could even take along so many horses had to face his death like any other man. Du Fu’s mention of the “River Emperor” and shooting a “Jiaolong” refers to a legend where an emperor dies after meeting the river god, and he is hinting that the emperor died.
The emperor Du Fu is referring to, Xuanzong, was buried at Mountain “Jinsu”. The poet’s choice of word for his tomb is remarkable: it is just a “heap”. Along with the emperor, also gone are the “fine horses”.
If you enjoyed my work, you can buy me a cup of tea. I am not a coffee person, by the way.
The emperor passes away, he ends up as bones beneath a heap, worldly greatness become dirt, and the bones of his horses are scattered, and I wonder where all the paintings of horses are? The only tangible thing which might have survived would be the paintings, but the steppe people, some horde or another, who we glimpse in these poems, likely laid waste to all such delicate and beautiful things in one of their incessant incursions or conquests. So, probably, the paintings, too are long gone. So, as usual, as ever, only words -- characters -- outlast any man, even the Emperor, and his beautiful horses, and all other beautiful works of man. If one wants to work in an enduring medium, nothing matches the durability of words.
(Also, this is the first time I ever heard of a thuja.)
I love the context and stories behind these remarkable poems, they come alive.