𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗲𝗺 ⸙༉

38. Facing the Snow -Du Fu

对雪

战哭多新鬼
愁吟独老翁
乱云低薄暮
急雪舞回风
瓢弃尊无绿
炉存火似红
数州消息断
愁坐正书空

duì xuě

zhàn kū duō xīn guǐ
chóu yín dú lǎo wēng
luàn yún dī bó mù
jí xuě wǔ huí fēng
piáo qì zūn wú lǜ
lú cún huǒ sì hóng
shù zhōu xiāo xī duàn
chóu zuò zhèng shū kōng

Literal Translation:
Battle cry many new ghosts
Worry and grieve alone old man
Disorder cloud low dusk
Rapid snow dance return wind
Gourd ladle discard cup without green
Stove remain fire like red
Many place news broken
Worry sit straight book empty

Translation in Simple English:
After the battle, many new ghosts cry,
The solitary old man worries and grieves.
Ragged clouds are low amid the dusk,
Snow dances quickly in the whirling wind.
The ladle's cast aside, the cup not green,
The stove still looks as if a fiery red.
To many places, communications are broken,
I sit, but cannot read my books for grief.

Other Translation:
Battle-slaughter musters fresh legions of weeping ghosts;
Old, alone, fretful, I mutter poems, hum tunes.

A chaos of clouds, thrusting down, swallows dusk's last glints;
Dense unceasing snow is danced aboutand about by the wind.

Draining a wine cask of its green dregs, I cast aside the ladle;
The fire's gone out, yet a faint red warmth clings to the stove.

Here, as everywhere, war has stemmed the flow of news;
Perennial news in books? How vain and prattling they seem now!

One more translation:
Battle-slaughter begets fresh regiments of weeping ghosts;
Old, alone, heartsick, I try to give words to my sorrow.

A frenzy of clouds, thrusting down, swallows the sun;
Unceasing snow is danced about and about by the wind.

I drain a wine-cask of its green lees and cast aside the ladle;
The fire's gone out and only a faint flush clings to the stove.

Here, as everywhere, war has stemmed the flow of news;
I sit in shadow, vainly committing these verses to the air.

Notes: This poem dates from late 756, after an unsuccessful attempt by the government to recapture Chang'an from the rebels.

Two of Du Fu’s poems bear the title “Facing the Snow.” One was written in late 756; the other, two years before his death in 770. The later poem essentially deals with the arrival of the northern snow, the inclement weather it brings, and the fact that although the poet is penniless, his reputation allows him to buy on credit as much wine as he pleases. The earlier poem, however, to be discussed below, has been translated more frequently and is better known. Full of anxiety and tension, it is also a much more engaging poem.

(*I will try to find the another poem which is here talked about)

“Facing the Snow” was written in late 756 in the capital, Ch’ang-an. Rebels of the An-Lu Rebellion had been occupying the capital for several months, and Du Fu had been detained there, unable to take office or return home. Although the new Emperor Su-tsung mounted an attack against the rebels, his ineffective commanders lost thousands of men in several engagements in the early winter of 756.

The first line of the poem, “Battle-wailing, numerous are the new ghosts,” refers to this military disaster. The poet’s response to the situation was simply to grieve about it in his poetry: “Sorrow-singing, solitary is one old man” (line 2). As can be seen, the poem begins with a couplet that highlights the revolt rather than the snow. This suggests what the major concern of the poem is. The snow itself is mentioned in the next couplet: “Chaotic clouds descending upon the dimming dusk,/ Impetuous snow ruffling in the whirling wind.” The weather, described with great precision, is not only inclement but also ominous. The fact that the poem begins with two couplets, one about war and the other about the snowstorm, implies that there is an analogical relationship between the two. In fact, the analogy seems to be enlarged into an extended conceit in the next couplet: “The ladle is laid aside, the jar contains no green wine;/ The stove remains, the fire appears to be red still.” Although drinking wine and drawing warmth are mundane practices in winter, this couplet seems to be stating more than the obvious. As A. R. Davis points out in Tu Fu (1971), there “could be a symbol of the distress of a nation” in the poem. If this is so, then the idling ladle and the empty jar may refer to the lost government and the ravaged country, whereas the stove and the fire may imply that the new emperor still holds the country together with the moral leadership required for containing the rebellion. This extended conceit is made the more apparent by the conclusion of the poem, in which the poet states that because news has been cut off from several prefectures as a result of the occupation of the capital, he sits in sorrow “writing to the air” (a difficult phrase, which may mean he is at a loss about what to write in a letter, or about how to send or where to receive one).

Question: What kind of poem would you like to read next? I have options life, death, spring, rain, age, war and love.

I am thinking about to read poems about rain.