68. Having Visited the Temple of Mount Heng, Staying at a Mountain Temple at Last and Writing on the Gate Tower

A poem by Han Yu, translated by Hyun Woo Kim, and an announcement

The order of rites for the Five Mountains is all that for the Three Lords;

Suppressed around from four directions, Song has to be in the middle.

In the Corner of Fire, the land is rough, sufficient for demons;

The Heavens lent powers to the god, so that he might wield his magnificence.

Gushing out clouds and pouring over fog, he hid his belly in the middle;

Though the summit is there, who can reach it?

I came, just in time to meet the season of autumn rains:

The dimness is dark like old moon, and there is no clear wind.

I dived into my heart and prayed in silence, as if there would be an answer;

Without being upright, how could I move and touch him?

A moment later, the sky cleared up, and a flock of peaks appeared;

I looked up, and they stood high up, supporting the blue sky.

Zigai continues to stretch until it meets Tianzhu;

Shilin leaps and jumps, heaping up Zhurong.

Their solemnity stirred my soul, and I got off the horse to bow;

A road through pines and cypresses ran towards the Spirit Palace.

The powdered walls and crimson pillars gleamed;

The paintings of demons were full of blue and red.

I climbed the stairs, bent over, and offered jerky and wine,

Hoping to illuminate my sincerity with what was not much.

The old man in the shrine knew the god's will;

Peeped with dilated eyes, he could bow.

Holding beijiao in his hands, he led me to throw them;

He said this was the best fortune, and it would be hard for others to have equal luck.

Expelled to the wilderness of barbarians, I am lucky that I did not die;

Somehow, I have enough clothes and food, and may endure till the end thus.

The hope to become a lord, prince, general, or minister has long been cut off;

Even if the god wants to give blessings, it will be hard for them to turn into results.

Staying at a Buddhist temple at night, I climb a high pavilion;

The stars and the moon look blind and blurry, screened by clouds.

Monkeys cry, the bells ring, and I did not notice the daybreak;

Soaring high, the cold sun rises in the East.

「謁衡嶽廟遂宿嶽寺題門樓」

五嶽祭秩皆三公

四方環鎮嵩當中

火維地荒足妖怪

天假神柄專其雄

噴雲泄霧藏半腹

雖有絕頂誰能窮

我來正逢秋雨節

陰氣晦昧無清風

潛心默禱若有應

豈非正直能感通

須臾靜掃衆峰出

仰見突兀撐青空

紫蓋連延接天柱

石廩騰擲堆祝融

森然魄動下馬拜

松柏一徑趨靈宮

粉墻丹柱動光彩

鬼物圖畫填青紅

升階傴僂薦脯酒

欲以菲薄明其衷r

廟內老人識神意

睢盱偵伺能鞠躬

手持杯珓導我擲

云此最吉余難同

竄逐蠻荒幸不死

衣食才足甘長終

侯王將相望久絕

神縱欲福難為功

夜投佛寺上高閣

星月掩映雲瞳朧

猿鳴鐘動不知曙

杲杲寒日生於東

From Hyun Woo:

In China, five mountains have been traditionally considered to be sacred. They were sometimes treated as deities themselves, and Mount Song was one of them. Still, Han Yu visited another, Mount Heng. The mountain is the “god” that Han Yu talks about in today’s poem.

As we saw from last week’s poem, Han Yu’s life was not going as he wanted it to. He was banished to the South, away from the capital. What can a man who is stuck in “the Corner of Fire” where the land is “sufficient for demons” do other than pray? (Chinese considered the South to be related to fire among the five elements.) He has nothing to lose anyhow.

What interests me is Han Yu’s religious attitude, which feels very modern. Han Yu goes to Mount Heng, and the “solemnity” of its peaks “stir[s his] soul”, making him “[get] off the horse to bow”. He even “dive[s] into [his] heart and pray[s] in silence” and considers his offering to the god “not much.” However, his belief is not simple but ambivalent and dubious. He prays “as if there would be an answer”—in other words, he doubts there will be an answer. This is in direct contrast with the attitude of the “old man in the shrine” who “[knows] the god’s will”. Note how carefully Han Yu writes that the old man “could bow” instead of just writing that he “bowed”. He believes and thus can bow.

Can Han Yu accept with a simple heart that Mount Heng will help him like the old man does? The old man makes him throw “beijiao”, a fortune-telling tool. The result is that Han Yu will have the best luck possible. Nevertheless, he concludes that “even if the god wants to give blessings, it will be hard for them to turn into results.” His spirit has already been crushed. Such despair is reflected in the line where he writes “the cold sun rises”.

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