c i P oe t ry : long s ong ly riC s 275The tune title of this piece (“Shengsheng man”) tells part of the story—a manci
with doubled sounds. The poem is best known for its beginning. Readers need
only look at the transliteration and word-for-word translation to experience the
expressiveness of the fourteen doubled dental and labiodental sounds. The two
verbs in line 1 are synonyms, as are the two adjectives in line 2 and the three in
line 3. The repeated words form a three-line enjambment of sounds charged with
meaning. The repetition of “searching” and “seeking” (line 1) not only prolongs the
action but also implies its futility. The poet finds nothing but coldness and loneli-
ness hemming her in (line 2). This brings in endless sorrow, reiterated six times
in a triple doublet structure in line 3.
The fourteen syllables in the first three lines summarize the situation the poet
finds herself in and foretells what follows in the poem. No matter what she does,
she cannot escape from sorrow. She tries to repel the autumn wind (line 6), but
she knows that her effort is futile (line 7). The wine is not strong enough to resist
the autumn chill, nor can it help her forget her sorrow. Inaction also proves inef-
fective in driving away sorrow: “wild geese” fly overhead (line 8). Wild geese, long
acting as messengers between loved ones and friends in Chinese literature, here
serve only to make the poet painfully realize that their service is no longer needed
(it is generally believed that this song was written after the poet’s husband died
in 1127). Her recognition of the flock as “old acquaintances” intensifies the pain
(lines 9–10). Their reappearance brings back memories of people and events from
her past and brings to her attention the cyclic change of the seasons. Her heart
breaks.
The second stanza continues the motif of the seasonal changes. Like the wild
geese, the withering chrysanthemums remind the poet once again that this is the
time when everything decays (lines 11–13). In the damaged flowers she sees her-
self. She is no longer in her prime, and what remains of her life will be wasted in
solitude. There seems nothing else for her to do but to just “cling to the window”
(line 14). In fact, this appears to be what she has been doing all day long: with a
cup in her hand, she sits listlessly there, allowing the passing wild geese and the
dying flowers outside the window to torture her heart. Her fear and despair ex-
press themselves fully in the exclamation in line 15: How can she drag out the day
like this? Behind this exclamation is not ennui but a dread of the life she is living.
She is so afraid of the futility of her searching and seeking and all that meets her
eye that she cannot wait for the night, the darkness, to come. But even she herself
knows that darkness will not bring her solace. The autumn rain on the wutong
leaves has been falling all afternoon and promises to extend into the night (lines
16–17). The dripping and dropping of the rain—mimicked by the four onomato-
poeic syllables beginning with a “d” sound—like that of tears, echoes the sound
repetition of the beginning of the song, suggesting that the sorrowful sigh that
opens the song does not stop but goes on all the way through to the end.
how one [measure] sorrow word finish obtain 怎一箇愁字了得 ▲
(zĕn yí gè chóu zì liăo dé)