“Waiting for the Unicorn” | Open Indiana

Li Tz’u-ming (Ai-po and Shih-hou; SHUN-K’O and YÜEH-MAN), official, scholar, and man of letters, was a native of K’uai-chi (Shao-hsing), Chekiang province. He entered the civil service by purchasing an office in the Board of Works, but he passed the chü-jen examination in 1870 and obtained his chin-shih degree ten years later. When he was later posted to the censorate, his frank and outspoken manner earned him the enmity of many people in government. Unhappy in his work and despondent over the outbreak of war with Japan, he fell ill and died.

Li Tz’u-ming left a large collection of writings on history which was published after his death. His best known, and perhaps his most important work, is however the Yüeh-man t’ang jih-chi, a voluminous diary covering the years 1863–1868 (a supplement covers the years 1854–1863), which contains Li’s comments on the classics and histories, reading notes, personal observations on leading personalities of the time, as well as poems and essays. He was also the author of one play, but he was most admired as a master of the literary prose style and a poet of considerable wit and erudition.

(William Schultz)

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1. H. S. Tseng, ECCP, 1:493

On a Rainy Evening: Written in Playful
Imitation of [Li] Yi-shan’s¹
“Untitled Poems”

A brief meeting, the East Wind has no will of its own;

A scented carriage with polished panels is detained for just a word.

None could forget the smile of jade fingers rolling up the blinds;

Who made those moth eyebrows drown a mirror in grief?

Orioles chat on the painted screen as someone leans over her lute;

Through fragile curtains of cobweb silk, the moon shines down on her room.

The Silver River to keep its faith—who will wait for that?

It spills forth chill and forlorn in an autumn evening rain.

(Hsü, 173: 13a-13b)

(Tr. Daniel Bryant)

While on an Evening Stroll Outside the Gates, I Stood
Alone Looking Out on the Water, a Vast Panorama of
Wind and Waves, and, Full of Reflections on
Rivers and Lakes, Wrote this Five-word Poem

A distant wind blows as I stand alone;

From the azure heaven descends frontier sorrow.

The hills dusky, weighing down on a lonely village;

The walls autumnal, slapped by turbid waves.

Direly poor, I meet with trouble and hardship;

Often ill, I miss out on favor and spite.

Thoughts of the mountains and rivers that fill my view—

In equal portion, I’ll share them with the untrammeled gulls.

(Hsü, 173–11a)

(Tr. Daniel Bryant)

Written at Night, after Dreaming That
I Had Returned to My Old Home

What have I dreamt of, all this night?

I dreamed of returning to my old hut in the hills.

Beyond the western suburb of Shan-yin Town,²

My clan has gathered to dwell across the river.

Behind the houses, a plot of several acres;

With a view to the side of government ditches and ponds.

Bamboo gardens open one after another,

Broadly extended for more than half a league.

House by house, each with a tall pavilion,

Scarlet and emerald linked and entwined together.

My house stands on its own tidy lot,

Facing the town and open to village and hamlet.

In back there is a five-room pavilion,

With green moss spreading out to dim the gold.

On seasonal festivals I sometimes climb to the top,

Lean on the railing and look down on hunters and fishermen.

When the light on the lake has not entirely vanished,

Level meadows are linked to tangled coves.

Scattered sails pass by like leaves;

Men working the sculls call out from time to time.

Fishing cormorants are arrayed on boats in a line;

Flying up in alarm beyond sea gulls and ducks.

A weir made of twigs suddenly breaks in the center;

Appearing in the interval, pink lotus flowers.

I have this scene always before my eyes;

On endless travels I can only heave a sigh.

One morning, I let my hand drop down,

And traced a map with the tip of my finger.

Green hills lined up at the end of my lashes;

The light of the sky appeared on my robe and collar.

To left and right I hold a bright mirror,

Glass lets in the sky at the window.

If I did not awaken after seven days,

What need would I have for a trip to Hua-hsü Land?³

(Hsü, 173:3b)

(Tr. Daniel Bryant)

NOTES

1. I.e., Li Shang-yin. Allusions to the T’ang poet Li Shang-yin’s love poems, most carrying the title “Without Title,” are many and taken from several different poems. Readers who are not familiar with Li Shang-yin’s verse would do well to consult James J. Y. Liu, The Poetry of Li Shang-yin: Ninth-Century Baroque Chinese Poet (poems 4–5, 17–18, and 28 in particular).

2.Shan-yin is adjacent to Shao-hsing, Chekiang Province.

3. According to an account in the Lieh-tzu, Hua-hsü was a utopian land visited by the Yellow Emperor in a dream. The country there observed no hierarchy of officials or leaders, and the people lived a simple, carefree life. When awakened from the dream, the Yellow Emperor was able to bring peace to his people.

Waiting for the Unicorn