“Waiting for the Unicorn” | Open Indiana

Chuang Yü (Chung-Pai), a native of Tan-t’u, Kiangsu, was a classicist by training and tz’u poet of considerable repute. He came from a declining merchant family with no visible connections with the Ch’ing bureaucracy. Despite a fine reputation as an Yi-ching and Ch’un-ch’iu specialist, he was unable to find regular employment until late in his life, when the statesman-general Tseng Kuo-fan recognized his merits and placed him as a collator at the government printing offices in the Yangtze region.

Though not a prolific poet by traditional standards (his extant works consist of about 130 tz’u), Chuang Yü was easily the most accomplished of those who wrote under the inspiration of the Ch’ang-chou school of aesthetics. Like Chang Hui-yen (q.v.), the titular founder of the Ch’ang-chou school of tz’u, Chuang Yü rejected the early part of Ch’ing tz’u as excessively imitative in technique, and set out to restructure tz’u writing around two time-honored principles: yi (moral import) and pi-hsing (comparison and analogy). In his hands, both the hsiao-ling (short songs) and the ch’ang-tiao (long tunes) are infused with an emotional depth and a technical subtlety that give the tz’u poetry its distinct character. His treatment of boudoir themes in particular won him unreserved praise from both T’an Hsien (1832–1901) and Ch’en T’ing-cho (1853–1892), two of the most astute critics of his time.

(Shirleen S. Wong)

Tune: Tieh lien hua

The slanting sun across the city wall clings to green trees.

On a piebald horse he passes,

Looking back repeatedly.

The jade bridle, bejeweled whip, where will they pause?

I turn about, not realizing dusk is about to fall.

In the wind all the flowers have drifted away—

Once apart, I wonder,

Will they ever meet again?

If I gazed at you hard and long—please don’t misunderstand—

There were so many secret thoughts only you can share.

Gossamer threads trail endlessly in the courtyard.

By the doorway,

Suddenly the face of my man¹—

I try to turn back, but my hairpin trembles so;

Thank heavens, there is no one around.

A quick touch of hands, that’s the only goodbye for now.

Mindful of spying eyes,

I keep turning my round, round fan.

How my heart trembles as I pull my hand away—

Please come back, and come back while young.

III

I was somewhere in a dream just a while ago;

Suddenly the east wind

Blew me back to Heng River’s bend.

Send word not to bother with a date of return-

A dream unfinished will be a broken dream.

A faint green outside the window, fading are the hills.

So swift was our parting,

So little could I say.

The season of flowers has rushed by far too soon-

What now but to search the horizon till my eyes are sore?

(CPT, pp. 27–28)

(Tr. Shirleen S. Wong)

NOTE

1. The text reads Wei-lang (Young Master Wei), most probably referring to the T’ang poet Wei Chuang, especially known for his lyrics to the tune p’usa-man that tell of the pangs of love.

Waiting for the Unicorn