278 t He F i v e Dy na s t i e s anD t He s ong Dy na s t y
not regret ancient people I not see 不恨古人吾不見
(bú hèn gŭ rén wú bú jiàn)
regret ancient people not see me wild only 恨古人、不見吾狂耳 ▲
(hèn gŭ rén bú jiàn wú kuáng ĕr)
know me people 知我者
(zhī wŏ zhĕ)
two three men 二三子 ▲
(èr sān zĭ)The poet’s arrogant reference to the “ancients” in lines 17 and 18, close to the
end of the song, is a clever adaptation of an earlier text. As recorded in the Nanshi
(History of the Southern Dynasties), Zhang Rong (444–497), a literary prodigy of
the Southern Dynasties (420–589), once bemoaned that he had been born too late
to compete with the ancients: “I regret not that I can’t meet the ancients; what I
regret is that the ancients had no chance to meet me.” Now, seven hundred years
later, when Zhang Rong himself had become an “ancient,” Xin Qiji has appropri-
ated his voice. The only word he added in recasting the earlier text was kuang (wild-
ness, arrogance). Obviously, he believed that his most valuable asset was being
wild and arrogant, and his wish was that his wild quality be fully appreciated. But
what does this wildness really mean?
A casual reading of the song shows that the poet is saddened by his own aging
and the passing away of his friends, and yet, in mocking his long gray hair, he ac-
cepts his lot with a sense of humor. He finds solace in nature and, of course, knows
the true taste of wine. Judging from these stock poetic gestures, it seems that what
the poet celebrates is the wildness of a hermit.
The poet is not, however, a hermit. He is not another Tao Qian (Tao Yuanming,
365?–427), the well-known recluse-poet (chap. 6) to whom Xin Qiji likens himself
in the second stanza. The assumed philosophical calmness can hardly conceal the
struggle of a restless spirit, which is wild in a totally different sense of the word.
Even early in the song, in the first stanza, where the “I” makes every effort to take
things lightly and express himself calmly, one can sense the conflict between his
superficial composure and his suppressed wild spirit. For example, after declaring
that he can dismiss all “worldly things” with a laugh (line 5), the poet asks himself
the rhetorical question whether there is anything left that might make him happy
(line 6). The answer is yes. The “alluring charm” of the “green mountains” greatly
pleases him (line 7), and he “expects” that he would be very charming in the eyes
of the charming mountains (line 8). One should note that this is not a simple case
of “pathetic fallacy.” The poet puts in the mouth of the green mountains a eulogy
on himself and makes them a medium through which his ego finds self-gratifying
confirmation. It thus becomes clear that the “worldly things” that the poet wants to
“laugh away” do not mean only worldly concerns but also all the mediocrity of the
world. It is his contemptuous dismissal of the mediocre world that brings about
the question: (Since you think nothing is worth mentioning in this world) “is there
anything left... that might cheer” your heart? As we have seen, the poet begins by