Translating Plum Blossoms 宋徽宗〈蠟梅山禽〉

山禽矜逸態 梅紛弄輕柔  已有丹青約 千秋猜白頭
Mountain birds, proud and unfettered
Plum blossoms, pollen scattering softly
This painting but a promise
Of a thousand autumns to come

1. The Painting

Nine-hundred years ago, a Chinese emperor painted a picture of a pair of birds in a plum tree –to which he then inscribed a poem in calligraphy of unsurpassed elegance, in a style all his own. It is interesting to consider that very few new styles of calligraphy emerged in China after the sixth century. But Emperor Huizong (r. 1101-25), while still only a young prince, created his own way of writing. Later dubbed the “slender gold” (瘦金體), it has been described by admirers as being writing like “floating orchid leaves,” or like “bamboo moving in the wind.” Or even more aptly, like “the legs of dancing cranes.” Detractors complained that the “skinny legs” are “too scrawny” to hold up the body, or “too bony”, like “a starving student in misfitting clothing.”

Whether one is partial to his characters or not, the fact remains that the “slender gold” style is probably the most famous –or maybe even the only– example in Chinese history of an emperor creating his own style of writing.

We see his four-line poem on the bottom left of the ink painting. Also there on the right of the delicately-drawn narcissus flowers, the emperor has signed his work –again, in that exquisite calligraphy like dancing cranes: “In the Xuanhe Hall, the Emperor drew this [picture].”

And what of the picture?

Well, we see two birds huddled together on a plum tree, under which grows a clump of narcissus. According to Chinese poetic convention, the plum and the narcissus are representative of the landscape of late winter and early spring. The plum, in particular, came to be admired for its capacity to blossom during extreme cold–even in the snow. Associated with pine and bamboo, both which remain green even in winter, the three became known collectively throughout East Asia as the “friends of the cold” (最寒三友) and were considered to be symbols of fortitude and fidelity.

The plum pictured in the painting, however, is not actually a plum tree, but rather is what is called the wax plum (蠟梅), or Chimonanthus praecox. Native to China, the fragrant flowers are a cheerful bees-waxy yellow. It’s a favorite of mine.

In Japan, the narcissus (水仙), the plum (梅), the wax plum (蠟梅), and the camellia (椿) are affectionately called “the four flowers of winter” (雪中四花) and are symbolic of strength and overcoming adversity.

Huizong’s poem, however, is really about the two birds. Perched so closely together they appear as if one bird, we see them nestling together against the cold.

Huizong writes: “pollen scatters softly,” which reminds us of snow falling.

But what precisely are these “mountain birds” anyway?

The clue can be found in the last line of the poem, for which a closer translation of the last two lines might read something like this:

This painting but the promise
Of a thousand autumns upon our hoary heads —

Presumably two people –friends of the emperor?–have made a promise of some kind spanning a thousand autumns; that is to say, their promise will last until they are old, and their hair has turned white as snow. Hoary heads is written as “white head” (白頭). Looking at the painting, we immediately notice that the birds also have white feathers on their heads 白頭鳥. They are, in fact, unmistakably light-vented bulbuls (Pycnonotus sinensis). Sometimes called Chinese bulbuls (白頭翁), its name in Chinese includes the characters for “white head.” Looking up the bird on a Chinese bird site will reveal that this bird, known for its white head and brittle voice, was traditionally referred to in China as “white-haired old man.”

And so, looking at the picture of the two white-headed birds huddled together against the cold (pollen scattering like snow), we see them standing firmly together. Is it friendship or marriage? Well, a cursory google search will show that traditionally Chinese bulbuls symbolized “married couples reaching old age together.”

This is not a Japanese convention.

Many –if not most?– of the poetic symbols in Japanese poetry do have a link to China, but not the bulbuls. And so being a Japanese translator, I almost missed it. In Japan, mandarin ducks are the conventional symbol of married fidelity, which is the same throughout East Asia. In Huizong’s poem, though, it is the pair of bulbuls that refer to a married couple reaching old age together. So, while it is not clear for what occasion the emperor created this work, I think it is safe to say that the promise implied was of a thousand autumns of love and fidelity. This is a wish for a couple to be blessed in growing old happily together like the birds in the picture.

It might have helped if I had known about the Han dynasty literary figure and poet Zhou Wenjun who is said to have written a poem titled  Song of Hoary Heads (白頭吟) about a time when her husband threatened to take a concubine and she wrote  “the song of the hoary head”

願得一心人 白頭不相離

I wish for a lover in whose heart I alone exist
Unseparated till the end of time (until our hair turns white).

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For the full essay, please see my post at 3 Quarks Daily.