“Waiting for the Unicorn” | Open Indiana

(1846–1931)

A native of En-shih county, Hupeh province, Fan Tseng-hsiang (Chia-fu; YÜN-MEN, FAN-SHAN) was a prolific poet. He passed the chin-shih examination in 1877 and later earned an excellent reputation as a magistrate in Shensi province. Although he did not play an important role in the political and cultural turmoil which marked his lifetime, he was nonetheless never far away from the center of these affairs. His political and literary association with the conservative reformer Chang Chih-tung (1837–1909) is consistent with the gentle but firm Confucian social concern which characterizes much of his best poetry in the shih form. His style is colorful and somewhat colloquial, while it is marked by not infrequent and often quite effective allusions to the classics. He left a collection of shih poetry containing over 30,000 poems, and he was also admired for his lyric poetry. Perhaps his most famous work is a long ch’ü narrating the life of the courtesan-entertainer Sai-chin-hua (1874–1936), sometime concubine of the scholardiplomat Hung Chün (1840–1893). She later became well known as an entertainer and companion of the famous in the international community of Shanghai and is the real life model for the female protagonist in the novel Nieh-hai hua (Flower in an Ocean of Sin) by Tseng P’u (1872–1935). (For a partial translation of this lyric see Literature East & West, vol. 9, no. 4, winter 1965, pp. 334–336.) Fan’s poetry shows an affinity of style with that of Chao Yi (q.v.) and the Sung poet Lu Yu.

(J.P. Seaton)

Written in a Cool Breeze

No light within the court, and moss climbs the stairs;

I move my couch, sit sprawled beneath the courtyard ash.

Cool clouds across the water, not likely it will rain;

Thin lightning leans against the mountain, no thunder yet.

In willows’ shade I watch paired magpies settle;

To bamboos’ depths from time to time come fireflies.

This great official feels drier than Hsiang-ju;¹

To quench that thirst, would I be thinking only of a single cup of dew?

(Ch’en, p. 725)

(Tr. J.P. Seaton)

Random Verses from a Boat

Within three days we’ve changed boats twice.

Now, they say, it’s Hsi-ch’üan county.²

Smoke from kitchen fires is thick;³

The city walls, again in good repair.

We hear the yamen here’s well run.

The common folk applaud the magistrate’s decisions,

And on the eastern shore the grain grows glossy green.

A hundred coins will buy a peck of flour.

This same river burst its banks in Chengchow—

Groves and marshes are full of homeless geese.⁴

There, they’re grounded, stranded fish,

And here secure as swallows nesting in the eaves.

These are both the people of Yü-chou:

But thirty miles divides calamity from joy.

Like fruits of the same grove,

Sweet and sour growing side by side.

Here many are at peace, at leisure;

There, the toilers, that eternal moan.

My good wife was born in the Capital:

She’s never seen the finest of boats or oars.

Come South, to see the misty waters,

Her eyes, a sparkle like the eddying waves.

Water creatures, fishing gear—

One by one, she asks about their names.

A little afraid as the wind in the sails heels the boat,

But joyous to hear the soft music of the sculling oar.

Reed shoots supply a pretty dish;

Mallow leaves make a fragrant soup.

In the groves hard by, nets set in the sun to dry;

Along the dikes, occasional weirs,

At last I begin to understand the ancients’ paintings

That depict the true joys of fishermen.

How I wish to sail off to the Five Lakes:⁵

In a boat light as a white gull.

Writing table, mirror stand,

All year long will be put away.

The brewing of tea is what I’ve long been accustomed to;

I would have no need to buy my own Fuelwood Green.⁶

III

Before dawn passing Chiang-k’ou town,⁷

Waters swift as arrows pass.

River of Stars astern on the right,

My boat passes it on the left.

Standing alone in the flow of the river,

Peak like a lotus, an elegant single flower.

And these little islets: green conch shells

Lying in a silver bowl.

Long ago I fell in love with Little Orphan,⁸

Sailed past, at least ten times.

That flowered islet hung amidst the flow,

Locked all about in misty waves.

This peak so much like that:

Call it a miniature, if you will!

It’s five years since I left Kiukiang,

And now Heaven sends this gift.

Too bad there’s no way to anchor;

Swift shallows rush the light barge down.

I turn, gaze back upon the coiffure of the mist,

At heaven’s edge, its vast and supple grace!

(Nos. 2, 3, and 4 from a series of 7; Ch’en p. 722)

(Tr. J.P. Seaton)

NOTES

1. Ssu-ma Hsiang-ju, a renowned master of the fu, or rhyme prose, was a diabetic, who required frequent large doses of water to quench his thirst.

2. Located in Nan-yang prefecture, Honan province (present-day Ju-nan), about seventy-five miles south of Chengchow (line 9), a large city south of the Yellow River.

3. I.e., the place is thickly populated.

4. People displaced by the flood, from an allusion to the Shih-ching.

5. Lake T’ai, in Kiangsu province, so called because it consists of a network of five lakes, alluding to the story of Fan Li of the Warring States period. See Wu Chia-chi, note 2.

6. Possibly concealing a pun on Fuelwood Green (Ch’iao-ch’ing) as a proper name. According to T’ang-shu (History of T’ang), the recluse-poet Chang Chih-ho (ca. 742-ca. 782) was once given a bondmaid and a boy servant by the emperor; and the poet made them husband and wife. He named the boy Yü-t’ung (Fisherman Boy) and the girl Ch’iao-ch’ing.

7. Chiang-k’ou: a key river station in Kiangsi province, located sixty li from Kan-hsien and south of Po-yang Lake.

8. Little Orphan, or Hsiao-ku, Shan is situated north of P’eng-tse county, Kiangsi province, which, together with P’eng-lang Jetty, near Kiukiang, commands the Yangtze traffic.

Waiting for the Unicorn