Colin Huehns | December 2022 | London
(This article continues from where the previous issue of Vantage left off.)
In less than the time that it takes to eat a meal, 12 contributions matching the 12 titles were complete, and all were copied out and given to Yingchun, who took out a sheet of “snowy-wave” white paper and copied them out in succession. The name of the person who had composed them was denoted by adding their soubriquets underneath each poem. Li Wan and the others read them from beginning to end thus:
“Remembering Chrysanthemums”
The Lady of the Chrysanthemums [Baochai]
Desolately watching the west wind and hugging depressed thoughts
Knotweed flowers red, reeds white, at this time, my guts churning
An empty hedge, an old garden, of autumn, there is no sign
A cold moon, pure frost, even in dreams, I am aware
Thinking, thinking, my heart follows the returning geese in the distance
Lonely, lonely, sitting listening at evening to the smith’s anvil, lingering
Who pities me as, for the sake of yellow flowers, I become thin?
Is there hope for consoling words at the Double Ninth festival1
1 The Double Ninth festival, also known as the Chongyang festival, is on the ninth day of the ninth month of the lunar year.
“Visiting Chrysanthemums”
The Joyful Red Prince [Baoyu]
At leisure, taking advantage of frosty clear skies, I essay an excursion
The wine cup, the medicinal vessel, do not detain me
Afore the frost, under the moon, at whose home are they planted?
Outside the threshold, aside the hedge, where is autumn?
In waxed clogs, coming from afar, in emotion, suffused
Cold lamenting unending, heightened moods extended
As if their yellow flowers understand the pitiful poetic guest
They do not disappoint this morning’s journey, made hanging on a staff’s end
“Planting Chrysanthemums”2
The Joyful Red Prince [Baoyu]
Carrying a hoe, in the autumn garden, I have moved myself here
In the hedge’s environs, in front of the halls, cultivating everywhere
Yesterday evening, unexpectedly, through the rain, they came alive
This morning, as if happy, carrying frost, they blossomed
Coldly lamenting their autumn colours in a thousand poems
A drunken sprinkled libation, coldly fragrant, one cup of wine
Irrigate with spring water, seal with soil, assiduously protect and cherish
Full well know I the field’s pathways, estranged from earthy dust
2 “Planting Chrysanthemums” 〈種菊〉.
“Towards Chrysanthemums”
The Pillow Dawn-Pink-Clouds Friend [Xiangyun]
From other gardens transplanted here, rich as gold
One clump lightly pale, one clump deeply coloured
Desolate and sparse, at the hedge’s environs, seated bareheaded
Amidst the pure, cold fragrance, hugging my knees, lamenting
Counting back, none is like you, who scorns the world
To look at, only I am your intimate companion
The autumn light gradually fades, do not alone disappoint
As we face one another and should, in sooth, cherish every inch of shade
“Presenting Chrysanthemums”
The Pillow Dawn-Pink-Clouds Friend [Xiangyun]
Playing the qin, pouring wine, happy that chrysanthemums can be my companion
A low table, they, delicately dainty set against it, it darkens
Separated by a seat, their fragrance, divided into three pathways, bedews
He who throws down a book is opposite an autumn branch
From the frost-pure bed curtain comes a new dream
In the garden cold, slanting sunbeams, remembering former travels
Proud to the world also because they share the same ethereal odour
Yet the spring wind’s peach and plum have not lingered
“Incanting Chrysanthemums”3
The Xiaoxiang Princess [Daiyu]
Untrammelled poetic impulses at dusk and dawn invade
Bypassing the hedge, leaning on a stone, uttering my own deep sounds
Brush-hair tip encompassing the exquisite, approaching frost, writing
The corners of my mouth holding fragrance, lamenting to the moon
Across an entire page, in self-pity, venting my long complaint
A passage of words, but who understands as I pour out my autumn heart?
Ever since lauded by Tao Yuanming’s4 earnest panegyric
The lofty wind of a thousand ancient years speaks unto the present
3 “Incanting Chrysanthemums” 〈詠菊〉.
4 Tao Yuanming 陶淵明 (365–427).
“Painting Chrysanthemums”5
The Lady of the Chrysanthemums [Baochai]
After composing poems, doodling with my brush-pen, unaware of my frenzy
How can the reds and greens of artistic premise be so contestable?
Clumps of leaves are sprinkled as a thousand dots of ink
Assembled flowers dyed with many flecks of frost
In hues pale or rich, my spirit perceives their image afore the wind
A lively bracelet, autumn born, a fragrance under the wrist
Do not mistake them as of the eastern hedge and pluck them on a whim
Stuck to the screen, they offer but temporary solace, this Double Ninth festival
5 “Painting Chrysanthemums” 〈畫菊〉.
“Asking Chrysanthemums”
The Xiaoxiang Princess [Daiyu]
Desiring to enquire of their autumn state, but no one knows
Muttering “nan-nan”, hands behind my back, I ask the eastern hedge
In solitary demeanour, proud to the world, whom do you accompany in your hermithood?
The others have opened their flowers, why are you so late?
The garden’s dew, the hall’s frosts, why so desolate and lonely?
The geese return, the cicadas are ailing, are they thinking of each other?
Do not say that in the whole wide world there is none to whom you can speak
If you understand speech, what harm is there in exchanging a few words?
“Hairpin Chrysanthemums”
The Guest under the Banana Plants [Tanchun]
For the sake of filling a vase, cultivating the hedge, busying myself day by day
Plucking it, do not mistake it for an adorned image in a mirror
The Chang’an Lord,6 because of flowers, became thus addicted
The Gentleman of Pengze7 was wine-besotted
Short hair on her8 temples, coldly moistened by dew of the three pathways
Her linen kerchief fragrantly stains the autumnal ninth month’s frost
Lofty emotions do not enter the eyes of an ordinary mortal at that time
But, clapping hands on seeing her, they laugh by the roadside
6 Critical opinion generally regards “the Chang’an Lord” 長安公子 as the Tang dynasty poet Du Mu 杜牧 (803–852).
7 Pengze 彭澤. “The Gentleman of Pengze” refers to Tao Yuanming.
8 The “her” here refers to the poet. The Chinese original of lines 5–6 of this poem does not indicate whose hair or kerchief are intended, but the context is made clear by the last line, which uses the third-person “her” to pinpoint an individual; in another reading, the “her” personifies the chrysanthemum; or perhaps both interpretations are intended simultaneously, such is the complex opaque concision of Chinese poetry. Chinese poets often use third-person appellations to refer to themselves, which is perceived as less intrusive than direct deployment of the first person.
“Chrysanthemum Shadows”9
The Pillow Dawn-Pink-Clouds Friend [Xiangyun]
The autumn light enfolds, once more layer upon layer
Furtively crossing, stealing away, amidst the three pathways
Through the window lattice, the scattered lamps describe patterns far and near
The hedge sieves the broken moon, locking in its intricacy
Cold fragrance retains its shine, its soul should still reside
Frost’s imprint transmits its spirit, but its dream is also illusory
Cherish its dark fragrance, the places trod and crushed
Whose drunken eyes recognise its blurredness?
9 “Chrysanthemum Shadows” 〈菊影〉.
“Chrysanthemum Dreams”
The Xiaoxiang Princess [Daiyu]
In the hedge’s environs, autumn slumber, yet still awakening sparkling
With clouds accompanying the moon, yet not differentiating their light
Ascending to immortalhood, yet not envying Zhuangzi10 metamorphosising into a butterfly
Remembering former times, still seeking alliance with Tao Yuanming
Sleep departed, clinging and lingering, dreams of returning with the geese are broken
Startled, returning whence oft annoyed by cicadas calling
On awakening, with whom to make my dark plaint
Withered grass, cold smoke, and unbridled emotion
10 Zhuangzi 莊子 (fl. fourth century BCE). An ancient philosopher associated with Daoism.
“Remnant Chrysanthemums”11
The Guest under the Banana Plants [Tanchun]
In hardened dew and heavy frost, gradually leaning askew
Banquets of appreciation overrun even into the Lesser Snow solar term
On its stem, surplus fragrance, its golden flowers, light and pale
Its branches not fully leaved, emerald-green in disarray
Across half the bed, the setting moon, cicadas’ voices pierce
In ten thousand li of cold clouds, even geese formations tarry
Next year, at autumn-tide, we know we will meet again
If now temporarily parted, long not for each other overmuch
11 “Remnant Chrysanthemums” 〈殘菊〉.
Everyone read each poem in turn and praised each poem in turn, and their appreciation of each other had no end. Li Wan, smiling, said: “Wait until I have pronounced my official verdict. Reading the whole sequence, every participant has composed their own remarkable poetic lines. My official judgement on this special day is that ‘Incanting Chrysanthemums’ takes first place, ‘Asking Chrysanthemums’ takes second place, and ‘Chrysanthemum Dreams’ takes third place; the titles are innovative, the poems are also innovative, and their meaning is even more innovative, so one can only crown the Xiaoxiang Princess as the champion. After that, ‘Hairpin Chrysanthemums’, ‘Towards Chrysanthemums’, ‘Presenting Chrysanthemums’, ‘Painting Chrysanthemums’, and ‘Remembering Chrysanthemums’ come next.” When Baoyu heard what was said, he clapped his hands with joy and cried out: “Absolutely right! Absolutely fair!” Daiyu said: “This result doesn’t so much speak well of me, rather it means that I am somewhat more wounded by fragile daintiness.” Li Wan said: “Daintiness is nonetheless good! It does not evince itself in the heaping up of superfluous words until they become harsh.”
Daiyu said: “According to how I see it, the best of all the poetic lines is: ‘In the garden cold, slanting sunbeams, remembering former travels.’ This recalls the painting technique of smearing the back of a silk canvas with lead powder prior to applying paint to the front so as to make the picture more vivid. ‘He who throws down a book is opposite an autumn branch’ is already an ingenious line and says all there is to say about chrysanthemums with no scope for anything else to be added; one thinks thus back to the erstwhile situation before the chrysanthemums had been plucked and presented—its meaning is profound indeed!” Li Wan smiled and said: “Granted that this is so, your phrase ‘The corners of my mouth holding fragrance’ still caps it.”
Tanchun added: “In the end, it is the Lady of the Chrysanthemums [Baochai] who is most rock-steady. Your ‘of autumn, there is no sign’ and ‘even in dreams, I am aware’ take the word ‘remembering’ and make it flare up in brilliant colour. Baochai, laughing, said: “Your ‘The short hair on her temples coldly moistened’ and ‘Her linen kerchief fragrantly stains’ also take the ‘hairpin chrysanthemum’ and describe it to a tee.” Xiangyun laughed and said: “‘Whom do you accompany in your hermithood?’ and ‘why are you so late?’ well and truly take chrysanthemums and ask them questions in answer to which they have nothing to say.” Li Wan, smiling, said: “‘Seated bareheaded’ and ‘hugging my knees, lamenting’ go as far as to indicate reluctance to leave chrysanthemums, but if chrysanthemums had a conscious mind, they would probably be irritated by their sickly sweetness.” And her saying this caused everyone to burst out laughing.
Baoyu smiled and said: “In this company, I have not made it onto the rostrum. Are ‘at whose home are they planted?’, ‘where is autumn?’, ‘In waxed clogs, coming from afar’, and ‘Cold lamenting unending’ not illustrative of ‘visiting’? Are ‘Yesterday evening’s rain’ and ‘This morning’s frost’ not illustrative of ‘planting’? I just resent that they do not bear comparison with the phrases: ‘The corners of my mouth holding fragrance, lamenting to the moon’, ‘Amidst the pure, cold fragrance, hugging my knees, lamenting’, ‘The short hair on her temples’, ‘linen kerchief’, ‘golden flowers light and pale’, ‘emerald-green in disarray’, ‘of autumn, there is no sign’, ‘even in dreams, I am aware’.” He also said: “Tomorrow, if I have some spare time, I will make up 12 poems all of my own.” Li Wan said: “Yours are also good, it’s just they don’t reach the innovation and elegance of these phrases.”
Everyone appraised for a while longer and then once more requested that hot cooked crabs be brought, and sat at the large round table eating them. Baoyu laughed and said: “Today, holding crabs and appreciating the sweet osmanthus, there shouldn’t also be no poem to match, so I have already run one over in my mind; would anyone else dare to compose one?” So saying, he swiftly washed his hands and, lifting his brush-pen, wrote it out. Everyone looked and said:
Holding a crab pincer, yet more joyful, the osmanthus shade cool
Sprinkling vinegar and pounding ginger, excitement and desire frenzied
A greedy taotie monster, Wang Sun12 personified, should have wine
The horizontally travelling prince goes as far as to have no guts
In its navel is assembled “coldness” whose potency is forgotten in greed
On the fingers, a sticky stink that despite washing still smells
Originally created simply to pleasure the palate and stomach of ordinary mortals
The Slope Immortal13 once laughed that he had spent his whole life satisfying his appetite
12 Wang Sun 王孫. An ancient fictional personage generally cited to indicate someone who roams abroad but does not return.
13 Slope Immortal 坡仙. Another name for the poet Su Dongpo 蘇東坡 (1037–1101).
Daiyu smiled and said: “Poems of this kind—there are times when a hundred of them appear at once.” Baoyu laughed and said: “Your talents would seem to have been completely exhausted. Saying nothing of the fact that won’t compose your own, you still see fit to pass judgement on me.” Daiyu heard this and did not answer. She raised her head slightly, quietly intoned, and lifting her brush-pen, no sooner had she brandished it than a poem had been composed. Everyone looked and said:
Iron armour, long spears, even in death, unforgotten
Piled on the plate, brightly coloured, joyfully we vie to be first to taste them
Their claws, sealing in tender white, jade-like meat, pair by pair are filled
In concave shells, red fat, piece upon piece fragrant
For extra meat, still more do I love my tender victim’s eight feet
To aid the jollity, who would ply me with a thousand goblets?
Partaking of this delicacy graces a fine festival
A pure wind strokes the osmanthus, the chrysanthemums bear frost
Baoyu read it and was calling out his appreciation when Daiyu tore it up and ordered that it be taken and burnt, and thereupon she smiled and said: “My composition doesn’t reach the level of yours, so I will have it burnt and make an end of it. Yours was excellent and even better than your chrysanthemum poems just now. Keep it so that others can read it.”
Baochai laughed and said: “Let me make the effort and squeeze out a poem, but it won’t necessarily be any good, and I write it out simply so that it gets a laugh.” So saying, she wrote it out. Everyone read it and it said:
In the osmanthus mist and the shade of the tong tree, seated, raising my goblet
In Chang’an, my mouth watering, longing for the Double Ninth festival
Looking ahead, on the road, there is no warp or weft, no latitude or longitude
Skin deep, neither spring nor autumn, and uselessly stuffed with black and yellow crab flesh
Having read to this point, everyone couldn’t help but call out extolling its excellence. Baoyu said: “Your criticism is entirely justified! It is my poem that should be burnt.” Reading on, the poem said:
Wine does not cleanse the fleshy stink and chrysanthemum elixir must be used
So as to combat accumulated “coldness”, ginger is certainly required
And today to fall into the pot, what benefit is there in this?
On moonlit water margins, fruitless is the fragrance of millet seeds
When everyone had read it, they said: “This, at last, is an excellent song on eating crabs! This seemingly insignificant subject should deliver a message imbued with deeper meaning in order for the poet to be regarded as a genius; but the ordinary person can be satirised in too barbed a fashion.” So saying, Ping’er could be seen coming into the courtyard once more, and if you would like to know what she was doing, please listen to the next chapter and it will be explained. ′
Part I of Chapter 38 was presented in the previous issue of Vantage.
About the Author: Dr Colin Huehns studied violin with Emanuel Hurwitz. His first experience in music from outside the Western Classical tradition came at King’s College, Cambridge, when he wrote a dissertation on the music of Hunza Valley and Gilgit, Pakistan, an interest which culminated in a PhD thesis awarded by Cambridge University for “Music in Northern Pakistan” in 1992.
He studied composition at the Royal Academy of Music and has remained active as a composer. Following a three-year British Academy Research Fellowship at Cambridge, Colin spent three years as a student at the Xi’an Music Conservatoire, studying the erhu with the distinguished virtuoso Jin Wei.
Since returning to the UK in 1999, he has taught electives in non-Western, traditional, and folk music at the Academy. He has also taught electives, which include learning the erhu, and Chinese and British members of the dulcimer family. As well as continuing to play the viol, viola, violin, rebec, Renaissance fiddle, and various dulcimers, his main teaching, research, performance, and composition interests now centre on his Chinese instruments, which include some 20 different members of the erhu, yangqin, and Mongolian horsehead fiddle families.
Colin’s erhu performances have included recitals in Munich, Leeds, Cambridge and Edinburgh, but he is particularly proud of having recorded two CDs of erhu music written especially for him.