Moonlit Night in Xiang Chun: A Poetic Expression of Longing

As the Qingming Festival draws near, the melodious call of emerald birds perched on branches deeply moves the heart. Yet, alas, these serene melodies are surrendered to the lonely dusk. Wanting to confide my heart’s sorrow to the willow fluff, but fearing its insouciance, unaware of the pain of a wounded heart. Drifting alone in the Chu region of the southern land, filled with tenderness and resentment, who can offer me a bit of warmth? The empty wine glass seems to weep for me, while the green mountains remain silent, and a waning moon casts its light upon the doorstep.

Before the inn, the misty Xiang River under the moonlight appears hazy and bewildering, with glimmers of light barely visible, reflecting the clouds floating in the sky. Time stretches long, life is fleeting. Oh heaven, when will I reunite with my beloved? This scene truly tugs at the heartstrings, searching everywhere in vain for shears sharp enough to cut through my myriad worries and woes.

Huang Xiaomai’s poems are rarely passed down, but indeed, his verses are “elegant and truly excellent.” This is a poem of spring’s sorrow. Through the depiction of the moonlit waters of the Xiang River, the poet expresses his reluctance to bid farewell to spring. The first part focuses on lamenting spring’s departure, beginning with the song of birds on the branches, marking the nearing of Qingming. “翠禽” refers to emerald birds, a general term for birds with beautiful feathers. “消魂” signifies the emotional impact, imbuing the bird’s song with human thoughts and feelings. The subsequent lines “可惜一片清歌，都付与黄昏” explain the concept of “消魂.” “清歌” and “黄昏” carry opposite emotions; the former brings joy, while the latter induces sorrow, complementing each other and intensifying the feeling of melancholy. The poet then employs personification, attributing perceptive qualities to the willow fluff, wishing to confide in it, but fearing its frivolity and lack of understanding of the heartache. The phrase “伤春” emphasizes the theme of the work. Further down, the poet laments his loneliness while lodging on the banks of the Xiang River, juxtaposing “冷落” with the word “温存,” and using “谁与” to pose a rhetorical question, conveying an intense yearning. At this point, the focus shifts from the sorrow of spring to the sorrow of parting, making “柔情别绪” a remarkably subtle and sophisticated arrangement. The latter part of the poem is even more exquisite. The author tightly grasps the characteristics of “湘春夜月,” embedding deep sorrow and parting into it, creating an affecting artistic effect: “空樽夜泣，青山不语，残照当门。翠玉楼前，惟是有，一波湘水，摇荡湘云。” This realm is constructed from numerous images, forming a cohesive whole. The high-rise tower is a fixed structure, but it can be observed in great detail. “空樽夜泣” indicates the extreme sadness of the mood, a refined phrase that reveals the language of construction, as well as the phraseology of the phrase. “青山不语” is a phrase that has been used for years. 富有诗意的深邃， “湘春夜月”由上可用以观察更加突出。 行首，经常不同而， 为， 重， 之， feel. fears