“Waiting for the Unicorn” | Open Indiana

(1858–1920)

Yi Shun-ting (Shih-fu), native of Lung-yang in Hunan, is little known and little studied in modern times; but in his own day he was considered a poet of prodigious talent, and, by the time of his death, he left the world nearly ten thousand poems. During his lifetime, his works were known and acclaimed throughout China.

It is told of Yi that in 1875, the year he attained his chü-jen degree, he passed through Nanking on his way to the higher examinations in the northern capital. Riding a donkey, he visited the city’s various historical spots in the snow and, deeply inspired, dashed off in a single day twenty poems in the heptasyllabic “regulated verse” form.

As a statesman, Yi’s career was not marked with success, even though he held fairly high office. During the Sino-Japanese War (1895), he served unsuccessfully as a military advisor to Liu Yung-fu (1837–1917) in Taiwan; two decades later, he was a member of Yüan Shihkai’s government during the latter’s abortive attempt to restore the monarchy. Yüan’s downfall soured Yi’s taste for public life, and he spent his remaining years in taverns and dance halls, losing himself in the pursuit of pleasure.

Yi was known as a learned man who was proud and confident of his own talents. He traveled widely throughout China and drew inspiration for his poetry from the sights he saw. For a time, his many collections were highly popular; but as the taste for literature changed from traditional to modern in twentieth-century China, both Yi and his works fell into relative obscurity. The poems translated here, however, should show that his former reputation was not entirely without substance—that, as a poet, he had a remarkable gift for painting verbal scenes and imbuing those scenes with emotion and philosophical insight.

(Timothy C. Wong)

Dawn Journey

The rustling of yellow leaves quickly wakens me from the wine;

And, taking my last look at the misty waters, I lose sight of the solitary sail.

The border mountains still elude the visitor swallow,

While the moon and stars seem to follow my horse eastward.

My lingering dream still clings to where the autumn grass is green;

My former companion is as yet trimming the night lamp’s glowing wick.

Where the willows hang may not be the south bank of the Yangtze;

Where can I find a pleasure pavilion to sing in the dawn breeze?

(Ch’en, p. 665)

(Tr. Timothy C. Wong)

Leaving the Mountains in the Rain from Yellow
Dragon Temple

From the gurgling of the brook I cannot surmise whether it’s the dragon’s head or tail.

In the gloom among the pines the feathers of the cranes must be wet through.

A verdant rain from the four hills soaks the skyward greenery;

White clouds from one valley appear as in a surging sea.

(WCSSCSC, p. 107a)

(Tr. Timothy C. Wong)

Passing the Bridge of Immortal Encounter
Looking for the Sublime Ascent Temple¹

From the sudden stilling of the mysterious breeze

I know the mountain is about to greet me.

The water resembles the color of emerald jade,

And the mountain a dark lotus blossom.

The huge boulder lies like a dragon:

A man can walk the dragon’s back.

To the right, a pool, dark and deep,

Above which hangs an ancient ape.

The ape comes to drink from the stream,

Then gathers up fruit from between the crags.

I gaze downward: fishes are moving about,

I look up: vines are in gentle coils.

The name here is the “Bridge of Immortal Encounter”

So take care not to miss encountering a goddess.

For the way to the Temple of Sublime Ascent is yet far off:

And I fear it is enwrapped within the petals of the lotus.

(WCSSCSC, p. 99b)

(Tr. Timothy C. Wong)

NOTE

1. Ch’ung-hsü or Sublime Ascent Temple could refer either to the temple of Lieh-tzu, the Taoist philosopher, or to one built in honor of the granddaughter of Sun Ch’üan, the founder of the Wu Kingdom during the Three Kingdoms period, said to have achieved immortality and ascended to heaven.

Waiting for the Unicorn