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8 Artisan Cui’s Love Is Cursed in Life and in Death A fine mist shrouds the scenic sunlit hills; The warm day sees returning wild geese rise from the sand. The eastern suburbs delight the eyes with budding flowers; The southern footpaths are faintly green with tender grass. Before crows build their nests in the willows by the shore, My quest for flowers leads me to a mountain cottage. Around the edge of the fields, red plum petals fall, But apricot branches remain bare of red blossoms. The above lyric poem to the tune of “Partridge Sky,” which describes a scene in early spring, is not as well written as the following “Ode to Mid-spring”: I spend my days midst courtesans and drunken dreams, Unaware that outside the city, another spring is at its height. The first apricot blossoms spin down in sprinkles; The willow twigs sway softly in the gentle breeze. Afloat in a pleasure boat, astride a piebald horse, I enjoy the greenness by the bridge outside the gate. This is a fairyland not meant for mortal beings. Behind which beaded portiere in the house is she? The above lyric poem describing mid-spring scenery is, in its turn, not as well written as the poem by Lady Huang1 titled “Ode to Late Spring”: The charms of spring are as mellow as wine; Swallows’ songs filter through curtains from time to time. Fragrant willow catkins float over the small bridge; Red peach blossoms fall by the mountain temple. The orioles grow old, the butterflies flit about; Spring departs, to one’s profound sorrow. The morning rain wets the grass before the terrace; The dawn wind spreads pear blossoms all over the ground. 109 None of the above three poems is as well written as the one by Wang Anshi, duke of Jing.2 Watching wind-scattered flower petals spinning to the ground, he concluded that it was the east wind that precipitated spring’s departure. His poem says, The wind on a spring day sometimes is blissful; The wind on a spring day sometimes does mischief. Without the spring wind, flowers do not bloom, But after they bloom, the wind blows them away! Su Dongpo3 said, “It’s not the east wind but the spring rain that sends oª the spring.” His poem says, Before the rain, tender pistils are in full view; After the rain, the leaves are stripped of all flowers. The bees and butterflies cross over my walls. Could spring have moved on to my neighbor’s yard? Qin Shaoyou4 said, “Neither the wind nor the rain is to blame. It’s the willow catkins that send spring away.” His poem says, Willow catkins of the third month lightly scatter; They dance in the sky as they send spring away. Fickle and heartless in their caprice, One flies to the east, one to the west. Shao Yaofu5 said, “The willow catkins have nothing to do with it. The butterfly is the culprit.” (People of the Song and Yuan dynasties are better than we are at making such idle comments.) His poem says, In the third month, the flowers are in bloom; Busily, the butterflies flit to and fro. Taking the delights of spring to the end of the world, They add to the sorrows of the traveler on the road. Zeng of the Grand Secretariat and the Privy Military Council6 said, “The butter flies have nothing to do with it. It’s the orioles’ songs that send spring on its way.” His poem says, The flowers in full bloom, at the height of their charm, What could have saddened them one spring night? The orioles’ songs send the spring on its way; In a trice, the gardens are swept of all flowers. Zhu Xizhen7 said, “The orioles have nothing to do with it. The cuckoo is the culprit.” His poem says, story 8 110 The cuckoo’s cries send spring on its way, The drops of blood still fresh around its beak.8 The day is long in the quiet and empty courtyard, Giving one fears of the coming of dusk! Su Xiaoxiao9 said, “None of these is to blame. It’s the swallows that carry spring away in their beaks.” There is, in testimony, her lyric poem to the tune of “Butterflies Lingering over Flowers”: I live by the Qiantang River, where Flowers bloom and fall, year in and year out. The swallows carry spring away...

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