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The Song of Everlasting Sorrow

Tang Dynasty poet Bai Juyi (772-846) wrote this poem about
Tang Emperor (“Son of Heaven”) Xuanzong (685-762) and his
famous concubine and former Taoist nun Yang Guifei, who is
regarded as one of the Four Great Beauties of Chinese history.
It takes place around the time of the An Lushan Rebellion. 

The Emperor of China sought
The greatest beauty in the land.
So long and for so many years
He searched, but none fell in his hands.

Meanwhile within the House of Yang,
There was a girl who came of age.
Hid from the world in women’s quarters,
She’d never walked the public’s stage.

Her heavenly beauty and manner were
Too hard for others to ignore.
One day, she’s chosen to go through
The Emperor’s own palace door.

A single smile across her face
Charmed endlessly and would beguile. 
Six palaces of powdered faces
Paled in comparison to her smile.

One cold spring day, he honored her
With bathing at the Flower Pond.
The hot spring water flowing smooth;
Her fair white skin it washed upon.  

The palace maidens helped her leave,
For she was delicate and tired.
And at this moment, which he watched,
His favor she had now acquired.

With flowing strands and blossom face
And golden jewelry in her hair,
She spent Spring nights in his warm tent,
Hibiscus patterns on their lair.  

They slept till sunrise long had passed;
O how those Spring nights were too short! 
From this point on the Emperor
Did not attend his morning court.

She spent her days attending him
At banquets till she had no time.
They went on outings in the Spring
And every night in bed would climb. 

Although there were three thousand beauties
Living within the palace walls,
His love for those three thousand ladies
All on her now solely falls. 

Made-up within her golden chamber,
She was a charm for him to bring
To the Jade Mansion banquet where
She got drunk on wine and Spring.

Her brothers and her sisters were
All granted land imperially,
Producing new and glowing glory,
Shining on her family. 

Then parents everywhere began 
To change what they had always thought:
No longer did they want a baby
Boy; a girl is what they sought. 

Li Palace seemed to soar up through
The clouds into the heavens’ blue;
Immortals’ music floated on 
The winds and every place imbued.

Slow song and dance both blended with
The bamboo instruments’ silk strings.
The Emperor could watch all day 
And never tired of these things. 

The war drums far away in Yuyang
Began to beat and shake the ground.
The Song of Rainbow Skirts and Feathered
Robes had lost its charming sound. 

Then smoke and ash descended on 
The palace’s nine-story towers
And thousands of southwestern horsemen 
Headed there with martial powers. 

His jade embellished carriage fled
And trembled onward till it stopped.
The Capital now far away;
Its West Gate in the background dropped. 

His armies wouldn’t go on, so he
Had no choice but obey their will.
His lady’s delicate eyebrows furled
As by the horses she was killed.

Her ornate headdress hit the ground
But no one dared to pick it up.
Then fell the golden sparrow hairpin,
And jade hair clasp—a change abrupt.

The Emperor now hid his face,
He had no way to rescue her.
When looking back he saw a stream
Of blood and tears together blur.

The yellow dust rose in the air
Upon a bleak and chilly breeze.
On winding wooden paths and clouds
Through Mount Jian’s pass, they felt unease. 

Not many people traveled on 
The road that runs by Mount Emei.
The banners lost their luster as
The sun went down to close the day.

The rivers blue, the mountains green
While in the Kingdom of the Shu.
Yet all this High Lord thought about
Each day and night was “I miss you.”

Inside his makeshift palace he
Would moon-gaze with a broken heart.
He heard the chimes one stormy night—
A sound that tore his life apart.

The uprising over, he was given
Back the Dragon Chariot.
The journey home stopped where they’d been;
He could not leave nor hurry it.

They stood in mud while at the foot
Of Mawei Slope, where she had died. 
No jade-like face, only the barren 
Plain that stretched out far and wide.

The Emperor and ministers
Shed tears that soaked each robe and face.
Then gazed east to the Capital,
And let their horses set the pace. 

They found the royal ponds and gardens
Much the same as when they left:
Still lotus flowers in the pond,
Of palace willows not bereft.

The lotuses were like her face,
The willows: eyebrows, just the same.
When he looked out and saw them there
How could he hold back tears that came?

Though Spring’s warm breeze had brought peach trees
And pink plum blossoms into bloom,
In Autumn, rains had brought the leaves
Of parasol trees down to their doom.

West Palace and South Palace were
Overgrown in Autumn grass,
And no one swept away red fallen
Leaves that on the steps amassed.

The Pear Garden opera performers 
Had new white hair upon their heads.
The eunuchs and the palace maids
Look like old folks confined to beds.

Within the palace, fireflies filled
The air that held his quiet thoughts.
The lonely lamp ran out of wick
And yet no sleep to him was brought.

The bells and drums rang out to start
Another night that dragged on and on.
The Milky Way shined brightly as
He yearned for day to finally dawn.

The mandarin duck roof tiles froze
Becoming heavy beneath the frost.
The jade quilt still felt cold, for who
Would share it with him? He felt lost. 

One drawn out year had gone by since 
The living and the dead had parted.
Her soul had made no visit to 
Him in the dreams that sleep imparted. 

A Taoist priest who’d come from Linqiong 
Visited the Capital.
His sincere heart could summon souls—
For meetings that were spiritual.

So moved was he by what he saw—
The Emperor in such despair—
That he agreed to try his best
To find her soul and bring it there.

He flew into the sky and rode
On air like flitting, flashing lightning,
Ascending Heaven, diving deep
In Earth, in search of any sighting.

He searched the blue expanse above,
Unearthly Yellow Springs below,
But through the boundless universe
Just where she was, he did not know.

Just then he heard about a mountain
Of immortals on the sea.
The mountain was surrounded by
A misty air of mystery.

And there a high pavilion perched 
Exquisitely amidst five clouds.
Inside it lived immortal beauties—
A charming, graceful female crowd.

Among them was a person by
The name of Lady Ever True
Of snow-white skin and lovely face,
Quite like the description that he knew. 

He knocked upon the west jade door
Of the watchtower made of gold.
He asked a girl named Little Jade
To take his message to be told.

She heard that the Imperial Envoy
Sent by the Son of Heaven came;
Inside her splendid canopy
The shock had dowsed her dreaming’s flame. 

She dressed herself and made her bed
And paced around in anxious thought,
Then made her way through curtain pearls,
Past room dividers silver wrought.

Her hair was still disheveled from
The nap she’d just been taking there.
Descending to the hall, her flower
Crown sat crooked in her hair.

A breeze made her immortal’s dress
Start fluttering with flying rolls
Just like when she performed the Dance
Of Rainbow Skirts and Feathered Robes.

Her jade-like face showed her distraught, 
Engulfed in tears of aching pain,
Like petals on a lone pear blossom
Branch in springtime’s flowing rain.

She poured out feelings to the priest,
Deep thanks she gave the Emperor.
Since parting, both the voice and face
Of him had now become obscure.

The loving kindness that they shared 
In Bright Sun Hall had been cut short.
While here, in Penglai Palace, days
And months long passed—a fine resort.

She turned and looked down at the place
Where earthbound mortal lives exist.
She could not see the Capital,
Chang’an, only dust and mist.

All she could do was send to him 
Some tokens of her deep affection.
She gave a chest and golden hairpin
As a means of some connection. 

She kept one part of the hairpin
And one piece of the metal chest.
From that day on each set of pieces
Never joined with all the rest.  

But she sent him a message: “Keep
Your heart as firm as gold and metal;
We’ll meet again one day high up 
In Heaven or the realm that’s mortal.”

And when the Envoy was about
To leave, she ardently spoke out,
“Remind him of the vow we made 
And how our hearts must be devout.

“The seventh day, the seventh month
Within the Hall of Longevity
At midnight when no one was there
We vowed together secretly

“That one day we’d fly in the sky
As two birds  soaring wing to wing;
That one day we’d be trees on earth
And to each other’s branches cling;

“That though long-lasting Heaven and
This ancient Earth must pass away,
Regret at parting ways will carry
On, forever and a day.”

previously published on Shen Yun Collections

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Chinese Original

長 恨 歌
漢皇重色思傾國，
御宇多年求不得。
楊家有女初長成，
養在深閨人未識。
天生麗質難自棄，
一朝選在君王側。
回眸一笑百媚生，
六宮粉黛無顏色。
春寒賜浴華清池，
溫泉水滑洗凝脂。
侍兒扶起嬌無力，
始是新承恩澤時。
雲鬢花顏金步搖，
芙蓉帳暖度春宵。
春宵苦短日高起，
從此君王不早朝。
承歡侍宴無閒暇，
春從春遊夜專夜。
後宮佳麗三千人，
三千寵愛在一身。
金屋妝成嬌侍夜，
玉樓宴罷醉和春。
姊妹弟兄皆列土，
可憐光彩生門戶。
遂令天下父母心，
不重生男重生女。
驪宮高處入青雲，
仙樂風飄處處聞。
緩歌慢舞凝絲竹，
盡日君王看不足。
漁陽鼙鼓動地來，
驚破霓裳羽衣曲。
九重城闕煙塵生，
千乘萬騎西南行。
翠華搖搖行復止，
西出都門百餘里。
六軍不發無奈何，
宛轉蛾眉馬前死。
花鈿委地無人收，
翠翹金雀玉搔頭。
君王掩面救不得，
回看血淚相和流。
黃埃散漫風蕭索，
雲棧縈紆登劍閣。
峨嵋山下少人行，
旌旗無光日色薄。
蜀江水碧蜀山青，
聖主朝朝暮暮情。
行宮見月傷心色，
夜雨聞鈴腸斷聲。
天旋地轉回龍馭，
到此躊躇不能去。
馬嵬坡下泥土中，
不見玉顏空死處。
君臣相顧盡霑衣，
東望都門信馬歸。
歸來池苑皆依舊，
太液芙蓉未央柳。
芙蓉如面柳如眉，
對此如何不淚垂。
春風桃李花開日，
秋雨梧桐葉落時。
西宮南內多秋草，
落葉滿階紅不掃。
梨園子弟白髮新，
椒房阿監青娥老。
夕殿螢飛思悄然，
孤燈挑盡未成眠。
遲遲鐘鼓初長夜，
耿耿星河欲曙天。
鴛鴦瓦冷霜華重，
翡翠衾寒誰與共。
悠悠生死別經年，
魂魄不曾來入夢。
臨邛道士鴻都客，
能以精誠致魂魄。
為感君王輾轉思，
遂教方士殷勤覓。
排空馭氣奔如電，
升天入地求之遍。
上窮碧落下黃泉，
兩處茫茫皆不見。
忽聞海上有仙山，
山在虛無縹緲間。
樓閣玲瓏五雲起，
其中綽約多仙子。
中有一人字太真，
雪膚花貌參差是。
金闕西廂叩玉扃，
轉教小玉報雙成。
聞道漢家天子使，
九華帳裡夢魂驚。
攬衣推枕起徘徊，
珠箔銀屏迤邐開。
雲鬢半偏新睡覺，
花冠不整下堂來。
風吹仙袂飄飄舉，
猶似霓裳羽衣舞。
玉容寂寞淚闌干，
梨花一枝春帶雨。
含情凝睇謝君王，
一別音容兩渺茫。
昭陽殿裡恩愛絕，
蓬萊宮中日月長。
回頭下望人寰處，
不見長安見塵霧。
唯將舊物表深情，
鈿合金釵寄將去。
釵留一股合一扇，
釵擘黃金合分鈿。
但教心似金鈿堅，
天上人間會相見。
臨別殷勤重寄詞，
詞中有誓兩心知。
七月七日長生殿，
夜半無人私語時。
在天願作比翼鳥，
在地願為連理枝。
天長地久有時盡，
此恨綿綿無絕期。

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Evan Mantyk teaches literature and history in New York and is Editor of the Society of Classical Poets. His most recent books of poetry are Heroes of the East and West, and a translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. 

NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets.

The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary.


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19 Responses

  1. Allegra Silberstein

    Thank you for your beautiful translation of this poem.

    Reply
  2. Roy Eugene Peterson

    What an amazing translation from Chinese into English. I can only imagine the time it took you to compose this fantastic epic tale of great beauty and fealty. I have loved Chinese writings and books since the age of six when my Grandfather somehow have received a book of poetry by Li Po, also of the Tang Dynasty. The small book he had contained beautiful pictures of Chinese landscape paintings that intrigued me. My uncle, Reno Backus, had been a medical missionary to China and a lady in our hometown had also been a missionary there. I suppose on of them gave him the book. Your translation was mesmerizing and enchanting enabling me to picture the vivid descriptions not only of the loss of love, but of scenes like the “mountain of immortals on the sea.” I cannot emphasize how great were your rhymes and meter matched with the precious story that has left a lasting impression.

    Reply
    • Evan Mantyk

      Roy, it sounds like a precious family artifact. Hopefully, someone still has it. The Middle Kingdom (China’s literal Chinese name) has a very rich culture and Li Po (aka Li Bai) is ranked at the top of Tang poets usually.

      Reply
  3. Sally Cook

    Evan, when reading your translation I wondered if there are still poets in China who think in such delicate terms and care for beauty in the way this ancient poet did.

    Do you think that is even possible under such current conditions??

    Thank you for transporting us to such a delicate time.

    Reply
    • Evan Mantyk

      Sally, from what I know, the situation is similar to here in the West where free verse is the favored form and solipsism reigns. And just like here, it is rare but not impossible to find poets and artists attuned to delicate beauty.

      Reply
  5. Brian A. Yapko

    Although I can’t comment on the translation, Evan, I can certainly express admiration for the poetry you have produced. It is beautiful in phrasing and rhyme and it tells a heartbreaking story of love found, love lost and hope for a restored love which transcends death. There must be something truly archetypal about the afterlife search for lost love for in this story from China’s Tang Dynasty I find echoes of Orpheus.

    Thank you also for helping to keep alive the treasure-trove that is pre-communist Chinese culture and its extraordinary contributions to civilization. Such poetry was timeless long before Mao and this will continue to be timeless long after the CCP has died and is relegated to being a nightmarish, historical aberration in China’s history.

    Reply
    • Evan Mantyk

      Thank you, Brian, you have hit the nail on the head once again. China has a magnificent and rich culture that does not belong to the CCP. In fact, the CCP represses and attacks traditional culture.

      The Orpheus connection had not even occurred to me, but that is a fascinating comparison! (I just saw a wonderful production of the Orpheus story at the Met Opera, which makes it doubly fascinating.)

      Reply
  6. Joseph S. Salemi

    This is an immense labor, and I can imagine the length of time that Evan dedicated in studious energy to complete it. It is a very valuable contribution to our understanding of traditional Chinese culture by someone who has presented us with a monument of Chinese history, as well as a tragic love-tale. Let me also say that we have an editor at the SCP who knows the language from which he translates, unlike some other unnamed editor at a different website whose “translations” are based on cribbed English versions of the original text.

    One suggestion — in quatrain 27, the verb in the last line should be corrected to “Grave in which her body LIES.” The form LIED is incorrect as a past tense for the verb “to lie” when the verb means “to recline.” The form “lied” can only be used as a past tense form for the verb “to lie” when that verb means “to tell an untruth.” The suggested change will not affect the rhyme very much.

    Reply
    • Evan Mantyk

      Dear Joe and Margaret,

      Thank you for helpful suggestions. I’ve gone back over it and realized there is a way to bring out more of the imagery of the original and keep a strong rhyme. Thank you!

      Reply
  7. Margaret Coats

    Many, many beauties in this masterpiece, Evan. While many derive from Bai Juyi, you have the great credit of having Englished them with propriety, and added many that come from our language. First among those, I would say, is the ease of reading that draws a reader pleasantly through the flow of rhyme. The theme may be “regret eternal,” but no one can regret the time spent to experience this magnificent story. Also, you have preserved very many meaningful allusions I recognize from my other experiences of Japanese and Chinese poetry in translation, and the shared symbolism of these two closely related cultures.

    I must agree with Joe Salemi about the word “lied” offering a wrong meaning that perplexes English readers. While his suggestion for a correction is acceptable, you could, to preserve perfect rhyme, change the line to “Grave of her body dignified.” The meaning “dignified” may not be present in the Chinese, but it would seem to suit the courtly circumstances. The Emperor and his retinue would seem to have made some remark on the subject if they had discovered the grave of the beloved to be anything other than dignified.

    Reply
  8. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Evan, thank you very much for making this exquisite piece of literature accessible. With the culture war raging, it makes me appreciate your labor of love even more.

    Reply
  9. Joshua C. Frank

    Wow… I think that’s the longest poem I’ve read on here! Having translated French poems, I can definitely appreciate the work that goes into something like this. I don’t know much of anything about Chinese literature, but this looks like an important story in Chinese culture, and it takes that kind of dedication bring it to the English-speaking world. Well done!

    Reply
  10. Yael

    Amazing! It baffles me that an English language poem such as this one can be extracted from the tall column of squared and stylized pictogram script. The pictograms, even though decorative, convey no meaning to me at all, while the translated poem speaks eloquently of the dreams, hopes and emotions of the people from a culture so far removed from me in time and space as to be completely alien to me. It’s really very intriguing, thank you.

    Reply
  11. ABB

    This is the longest Chinese poem I’ve read, and I concur with the praise others have noted.

    By way of trivia, I am curious as to what the longest poem in Chinese history is? Always hearing about the four great novels, but aside from this I have only encountered lyric poets.

    Reply
    • Evan Mantyk

      Interesting question, ABB. From what I know there are not long works like the Iliad or Shakespeare’s plays entirely or mostly in poetry. The longest I know of is The Peacock Flies Southwest, which is lyric. I think this may have something to do with the fact that the Chinese language is naturally poetic, with a huge number of homophones among words and individual characters. There is also less emphasis on the finer points of grammar (singular/plural and verb conjugation can be thrown out the window) opening it up for expression that toggles between poetic and extremely vague and open to interpretation. If you learn about the characters and their parts, they contain images and sometimes stories themselves that are little mini-poems.

      Reply
  12. Bruce Phenix

    Evan, Thank you for your lovely translation of this very touching poem. I think you have a real feel for the spirit of the original.

    Reply

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