The Poplar and Willow (a song of spring)

The Poplar and Willow is a Tang Dynasty song that celebrates spring.  Back in the day it was one of the most popular melodies that would typically have been played on the zither or qin.  Many of the great Chinese poets wrote lyrics to accompany the melody.  I've never heard the tune -- I don't think anyone alive can claim otherwise since no recordings survive - but perhaps we can finesse the problem with our inner ear by simply enjoying the lilt of the lyrics, some of which fortunately have survived. 

Here's one version of a lyric written by Wang Anshi during the Song Dyanasty.

The poplar and the willow

And the apricot blossom

Such good comes from where?

On stone and roof beam

Of my thatched cottage

The rain beats down

Like Heavenly thunder

 Then the green droops in quietude

And a pathway beckons into

The forest’s depth but I pause

To examine carefully

Flowery red brushstrokes

Now clearly written along

The pond’s embankment

 杨柳

王安石

杨柳杏花何处好

石梁茅屋雨初乾

绿垂静路要深驻

红写清陂得细看

It's worth mentioning that the poplar and willow are important symbols in Daoist cosmology (and therefore in Tang poetry) as they epitomize Yin and Yang energy, representing two very distinct paths for growth.  Poplar and willow thus serves as something of a shorthand for every growing thing, in the midst of the plant world coming back to life.

The poplar and willow remains an important theme down to the present day in Chinese literature.  The 20th century despot and would-be poet Mao Tse Dung wrote a version of the Polar and Willow song, somewhat suggestively titled - I Lost My Proud Poplar - which seems to give the lyric a bit more of a sensual and leering flavor.  What else would you expect from one of the world's great despots?  I haven't bothered to translate Mao's poem myself but you can read a translation by Tony Barnstone here.

For my part, this morning, a fine morning indeed, after walking down to the Creek, where I was serenaded by a chorus of our local songbirds, I decided to write a version of Poplar and Willow of my own:

On a spring morning

Approaching perfection

 The wind has begun to shift

With a lingering chill

It also whispers a hint

Of the warmth to come

The buds are not done

With their slumbering

But with each breath

The poplar and willow

Stir to the moment

On the verge of awakening

Yet dreaming still

Of everything that

Remains to be done