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Tune: Lady Qi - Late Autumn Skies

By Liu Yong Song Dynasty
English Poetic Translation
Late autumn skies.
A passing drizzle sweeps the courtyard rail.
The railing's chrysanthemums thin, the courtyard's wutong leaves adrift in fading mist.
So desolate.
I gaze toward river passes,
where drifting clouds grow dim across the setting sun.
Much like Song Yu of old who grieved beside these waters and scaled these heights.
The road ahead is long and far, the traveler's heart is bowed with woe,
weary of hearing distant streams rush on.
Cicadas chant through ruined leaves while crickets pierce the withered grass,
the air is loud with autumn's dirge.
In solitary lodging, days drag like passing years.
The night wind chills with heavy dews, the hours slip into deepest dark.
The boundless sky is pure, the crimson river shallow, and the bright moon flawless.
My thoughts weave endlessly.
Through this long night facing the scene, how can I bear to count the years and muse upon the past?
Unfamed, unranked, adrift among the painted lanes and crimson towers,
I let whole seasons drift away.
The capital's spring and autumns were so bright in youthful days,
with evening feasts and morning mirth.
Surrounded then by reckless friends and wayward company,
wherever song and wine were found, we lingered on.
Since parting, time has flown just like a shuttle's stroke;
old wanderings seem a fading dream, across these boundless, misty waves.
Bound fast to thoughts of gain and fame, my spirit wastes away.
I chase the ghosts of yesterday with hollow, sorrow-laden face.
The clepsydra drips away, a sudden chill creeps through the air.
The painted horns begin to sob, their dying notes dissolved in dawn.
Beside the quiet window, I quench the lamp as morning breaks,
and hold my solitary shadow through the sleepless night.
Classical Chinese & Pinyin
晚秋天。
一霎微雨灑庭軒。
檻菊蕭疏，井梧零亂惹殘煙。
悽然。
望江關。
飛雲黯淡夕陽間。
當時宋玉悲感，向此臨水與登山。
遠道迢遞，行人悽楚，倦聽隴水潺。
正蟬吟敗葉，蛩響衰草，相應喧喧。
孤館度日如年。
風露漸變，悄悄至更闌。
長天淨，絳河清淺，皓月嬋娟。
思綿綿。
夜永對景，那堪屈指，暗想從前。
未名未祿，綺陌紅樓，往往經歲遷延。
帝裏風光好，當年少日，暮宴朝歡。
況有狂朋怪侶，遇當歌、對酒競留連。
別來迅景如梭，舊遊似夢，煙水程何限。
念利名、憔悴長縈絆。
追往事、空慘愁顏。
漏箭移、稍覺輕寒。
漸嗚咽、畫角數聲殘。
對閒窗畔，停燈向曉，抱影無眠。
wǎn qiū tiān
yí shà wēi yǔ sǎ tíng xuān
jiǎn jú xiāo shū, jǐng wú líng luàn rě cán yān
qī rán
wàng jiāng guān
fēi yún àn dàn xī yáng jiàn
dāng shí sòng yù bēi gǎn, xiàng cǐ lín shuǐ yǔ dēng shān
yuǎn dào tiáo dì, xíng rén qī chǔ, juàn tīng lǒng shuǐ chán
zhèng chán yín bài yè, qióng xiǎng shuāi cǎo, xiāng yìng xuān xuān
gū guǎn dù rì rú nián
fēng lù jiàn biàn, qiāo qiāo zhì gēng lán
cháng tiān jìng, jiàng hé qīng qiǎn, hào yuè chán juān
sī mián mián
yè yǒng duì jǐng, nǎ kān qū zhǐ, àn xiǎng cóng qián
wèi míng wèi lù, qǐ mò hóng lóu, wǎng wǎng jīng suì qiān yán
dì lǐ fēng guāng hǎo, dāng nián shào rì, mù yàn zhāo huān
kuàng yǒu kuáng péng guài lǚ, yù dāng gē, duì jiǔ jìng liú lián
bié lái xùn jǐng rú suō, jiù yóu sì mèng, yān shuǐ chéng hé xiàn
niàn lì míng, qiáo cuì zhǎng yíng bàn
zhuī wǎng shì, kōng cǎn chóu yán
lòu jiàn yí, shāo jué qīng hán
jiàn wū y咽, huà jiǎo shù shēng cán
duì xián chuāng pàn, tíng dēng xiàng xiǎo, bào yǐng wú mián
Philological Direct Translation
Late autumn sky.
A passing light rain sprinkles the courtyard pavilion.
Balustrade chrysanthemums are sparse and withered, courtyard parasols disorderly entice remaining mist.
Desolate and sad.
Gazing toward river passes.
Flying clouds dim amidst the setting sun.
At that time Song Yu felt sorrow, facing this waterside and climbing mountains.
Distant roads are winding and long, the traveler is desolate and bitter, weary of listening to the Long-water murmuring.
Right as cicadas chant over fallen leaves, crickets sound in decaying grass, echoing and clamoring.
Solitary lodging, passing days like years.
Wind and dew gradually change, quietly reaching the watch of night.
Vast heaven is clear, the vermilion river is shallow and bright, the brilliant moon is graceful.
Thoughts are continuous and endless.
Night is long facing the scenery, how can one bear counting on fingers, secretly pondering the past.
Without fame or official emolument, in painted alleys and red towers, often passing years in delay.
Imperial capital scenery is fine, back in youth days, evening banquets and morning joys.
Moreover having wild companions and eccentric travelers, encountering song and facing wine, lingering and reluctant to leave.
Since parting, swift time passes like a shuttle, old journeys seem like dreams, misty waters distance is what limit.
Thinking of profit and fame, emaciated and long entangled.
Pursuing past matters, vainly gloomy with sorrowful face.
Clepsydra arrow shifts, slightly feeling slight cold.
Gradually sobbing, painted horns several sounds fade.
Facing the idle window, stopping the lamp toward dawn, embracing shadow without sleep.
Scholarly Exegesis & Cultural Commentary

I. Formal Poetic Architecture & Meter

This piece is written in the extremely rare and lengthy ci lyric template known as "Qi Shi" (The Song of Qi), an extraordinary creation by Liu Yong that spans over two hundred characters and is divided into three distinct stanzas. As a master of the slow ci form (manzi), Liu Yong utilizes shifting line lengths, abrupt caesuras, and conversational yet deeply melodious shifts in register. The rhyme scheme modulates across stanzas, moving from acute entering tones in the opening to expansive level tones in the central moonlight contemplation, and finally returning to a desolate, melancholic cadence as dawn approaches. The spatial movement of the poem is equally deliberate: it begins with an intimate, claustrophobic close-up of a desolate courtyard, expands outward to an overarching, bleak autumnal landscape of distant river passes, dives inward into agonizing psychological introspection regarding past dissipations in the capital, and ultimately contracts back to a lonely room where the protagonist faces his own shadow under a dying lamp.

II. Historical Chronology & Existential Impulse

Composed during the Northern Song dynasty, this expansive lyric reflects the later years of Liu Yong, an itinerant genius whose refusal to conform to conventional bureaucratic decorum left him marginalized, impoverished, and drifting among the pleasure quarters and remote provincial outposts of empire. Having spent decades oscillating between the glittering allure of the Bianjing capital—where his lyrics were famously sung by every girl from tavern to imperial court—and the bitter humiliations of minor official postings, Liu Yong pours his accumulated existential weariness into this monumental lament. It is a retrospective confession of a life squandered on fleeting passions and unfulfilled ambitions, set against the unforgiving backdrop of autumnal decay and encroaching mortality.

III. Line-by-Line Exegesis & Allusion Decoding

  • Stanza 1 (Lines 1-10): The poem opens with a cinematic dissolve: late autumn, a sudden shower sprinkling a quiet courtyard. Chrysanthemums by the railing are sparse and withered, and the paulownia trees by the well drop chaotic leaves through lingering evening mists. Looking out toward distant river passes, the speaker sees heavy, sullen clouds hanging in the fading sunlight. Liu Yong invokes Song Yu, the quintessential poet of melancholy from the Chu ci tradition, who famously experienced sorrow facing water and climbing mountains. The traveler on the far-reaching road is desolate, weary of listening to the murmuring streams of Long. Cicadas hum among ruined leaves and crickets chirp in fading grass, their noises swelling in unison to heighten the agonizing length of isolation in an lonely inn where days drag like years.
  • Stanza 2 (Lines 11-20): As night deepens, the autumn wind and dew bring a stealthy, quiet chill. The vast sky clears, the Milky Way flows pale and shallow, and the bright moon shines in pure beauty. The speaker's thoughts stretch out endlessly into the long night. Facing this luminous scene, how can he bear to count the fingers and secretly reflect upon the past? Without rank or official salary, he spent his youth wandering the painted alleys and red-towered pleasure quarters, passing years in effortless dissipation. The capital's scenery was magnificent in those youthful days, spent in evening banquets and morning revelries alongside wild companions, drinking and singing without a thought of parting.
  • Stanza 3 (Lines 21-29): Yet time has flown like a shuttle since separation; old excursions seem like fleeting dreams, separated by boundless stretches of mist and water. Bound to the pursuit of fame and profit, the speaker has grown haggard and trapped. Recalling the past only darkens his face with sorrow. As the water-clock drips and shifts, a slight chill is felt, followed by the muffled, sobbing notes of painted horns dying away at dawn. Sitting by the idle window, extinguishing the lamp as day breaks, he embraces his own shadow in sleepless despair.

IV. Aesthetic Synthesis & Poetic Aftertaste

"Qi Shi" stands as the undisputed masterpiece of Liu Yong's later period, representing the pinnacle of the slow ci lyric's capacity for novelistic narrative depth and psychological realism. By wedding the techniques of descriptive pacing, historical allusion, and unvarnished autobiographical confession, Liu Yong transforms personal regret into a universal meditation on the tragedy of the unmoored literati life. The lingering aftertaste is one of profound desolation—the dying lamp, the sobbing horn, and the solitary shadow merging into an unforgettable portrait of artistic brilliance consumed by time and disillusionment.

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