P e n ta s y l l a biC Sh i P oe t ry : t He “ni ne t e e n ol D P oe m s ” 107“Luo” and “Wan” in line 8 denote, respectively, the capital city of Luoyang and a
smaller city to the south of Luoyang; lines 9–14 are vivid descriptions of the royal
palaces and mansions. However, even though we encounter the speaker in this
realistic locale, we still find it difficult to identify him with the poet. His pursuit
of worldly pleasure, his existential anxiety, and his solutions to emotional crises
are described in very general terms. There is little solid evidence of the life of a
unique individual. The persona of the wandering man seems to reveal merely the
collective identity of a disenchanted literati group.
In the poems of the wandering man, we usually encounter three distinct mo-
tifs: (1) a lonely wanderer contemplating a desolate scene, either a wintry land-
scape or a graveyard; (2) a vehement lamentation over human transience; and (3)
a sustained reflection on various ways of coping with human transience. Poem 13,
for instance, features these three motifs:
C 5. 3
No. 13, I Ride My Carriage to the Upper East GateI ride my carriage to the Upper East Gate, 驅車上東門 (qū chē shàng dōng mén)
2 Gazing at the graves north of the wall. 遙望郭北墓 (yáo wàng guō bĕi mù)
White poplars, how bleak they are in the wind! 白楊何蕭蕭 (bái yáng hé xiāo xiāo)
4 Pine and cypress flank the broad paths. 松栢夾廣路 (sōng bó jiá guăng lù)
Underneath them, the dead from long ago, 下有陳死人 (xià yŏu chén sĭ rén)
6 Dark, dark is their long night. 杳杳卽長暮 (yăo yăo jí cháng mù)
Lost in sleep beneath the Yellow Springs, 潛寐黄泉下 (qián mèi huáng quán xià)
8 Come a thousand years, they will not awaken. 千載永不寤 (qiān zăi yŏng bú wù)
Seasons of growth and decay march on and on, 浩浩陰陽移 (hào hào yīn yáng yí)
10 The years allotted to man are like morning dew. 年命如朝露 (nián mìng rú zhāo lù)
Man’s life is as transient as a sojourn, 人生忽如寄 (rén shēng hū rú jì)
12 His frame is not as firm as metal or stone. 壽無金石固 (shòu wú jīn shí gù)
Ten thousand years have gone by, 萬嵗更相送 (wàn suì gēng xiāng sòng)
14 No sages or worthies can cross the flow of time. 聖賢莫能度 (shèng xián mò néng dù)
Some take drugs and hope to become immortals, 服食求神仙 (fú shí qiú shén xiān)
16 Many of them only end their life with poison. 多爲藥所誤 (duō wéi yào suŏ wù)
Far better to drink fine wine 不如飮美酒 (bù rú yĭn mĕi jiŭ)
18 And wear clothes made of choice white silk. 被服紈與素 (pī fú wán yŭ sù)
[WX 29.1348]
The speaker first tells us that he catches a glimpse of the graveyard on Mount
Mang when his carriage passes through the northern gate of Luoyang. What meets
his eyes are weeping poplar trees, pine, and cypress—all associated with the dead
because they were often planted to mark grave sites. The sight of these trees evokes
a dark mood of melancholy, leading him to conjure up an even more dismal world
below. Underneath, there is no life, only a mass of dead bodies from long ago; no
light, just an everlasting darkness; and no awakening, but an eternal sleep. After
describing the imagined scene of an underworld, the speaker breaks into a lament