Li Qingzhao
Autore di Complete Poems
Sull'Autore
Fonte dell'immagine: Li Qingzhao statue in Li Qingzhao Memorial, Jinan. Photo by user Gisling / Wikimedia Commons
Opere di Li Qingzhao
Opere correlate
Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women (1994) — Collaboratore — 342 copie
Etichette
Informazioni generali
- Nome canonico
- Li Qingzhao
- Altri nomi
- Li Ch'ing-chao (Wade-Giles)
- Data di nascita
- 1084
- Sesso
- female
- Nazionalità
- China
- Nazione (per mappa)
- Kiina
- Luogo di nascita
- Zhangqiu, Shandong, China
- Luogo di morte
- Shaoxing, Zhejiang, China
Utenti
Recensioni
Li Ch'ing-chao (1084-c1151, who lived late in the Sung Dynasty) is considered China's greatest women's poet. her poetry is both strong and delicately rendered: "I hear that Spring at Two Rivers/ Is still beautiful./ I had hoped to take a boat there,/ But I know so fragile a vessel/ Won't bear such a weight of sorrow." i've been rereading it in the wake of the second book of Guy Gavriel Kay's Under Heaven trilogy, River of Stars, which portrays her life as the Sung Dynasty begins to fall apart.
Li Ch’ing Chao (1084-1151) is regarded as one of China’s greatest women poets and the poetry of heartbreak and loneliness from a thousand years ago in Sung Dynasty China touches a chord even today, but there isn’t enough range here for my taste. Here are a couple of poems I liked that give you a sample:
Remorse
------------
Deep in the silent inner room
Every fiber of my soft heart
Turns to a thousand strands of sorrow.
I loved the Spring,
But the Spring is gone
As rain hastens the falling petals.
I lean on the balustrade,
Moving from one end to the other,
My emotions are still disordered.
Where is he?
Withered grass stretches to the horizon
And hides from sight
Any road by which he might return.
Spring Ends
---------------
The River of Heaven turns across the sky.
All the world is covered with bed curtains.
It grows cold.
Tear stains spread on my mat and pillow.
I get up and take off my clothes
And listlessly ask “How late at night is it?”
The green feather pattern of lotus pod,
The gold thread design of lotus leaves,
Seem small and sparse on my gauze sleeping robe.
The same weather as in the old days,
The same dress I wore then,
Only my arms are empty of love,
And our past is gone forever.… (altro)
Remorse
------------
Deep in the silent inner room
Every fiber of my soft heart
Turns to a thousand strands of sorrow.
I loved the Spring,
But the Spring is gone
As rain hastens the falling petals.
I lean on the balustrade,
Moving from one end to the other,
My emotions are still disordered.
Where is he?
Withered grass stretches to the horizon
And hides from sight
Any road by which he might return.
Spring Ends
---------------
The River of Heaven turns across the sky.
All the world is covered with bed curtains.
It grows cold.
Tear stains spread on my mat and pillow.
I get up and take off my clothes
And listlessly ask “How late at night is it?”
The green feather pattern of lotus pod,
The gold thread design of lotus leaves,
Seem small and sparse on my gauze sleeping robe.
The same weather as in the old days,
The same dress I wore then,
Only my arms are empty of love,
And our past is gone forever.… (altro)
Liste
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Autori correlati
Statistiche
- Opere
- 18
- Opere correlate
- 5
- Utenti
- 103
- Popolarità
- #185,855
- Voto
- 4.1
- Recensioni
- 3
- ISBN
- 16
- Lingue
- 5
- Preferito da
- 1
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