[updated September 2022]
Pipa Style: Part Three
Last year I left the capital city
Being a government official relegated to a minor post in a remote rural area
Left bedridden and sick in Xu Yang
Xu Yang a place very remote and provincial, with no music
All year long I have not heard any strings or woodwind music.
Living close to Pen Jiang
A place in the low-lying swamps and wetlands
Around my house grows yellow reeds and bitter bamboo
In the time between dawn and dusk, what things can be heard?
Cuckoo bird cries and the wailing of apes
Spring river flowers in the morning
Autumn moon at night
Usually have to finish the wine myself
The regional local music comes from provincial bamboo flutes
I cannot stand to listen to these shrill woodwind sounds.
Tonight I listen to your pipa and voice
Like listening to music from heaven
My ears suddenly become clear
Please do not turn down a request
To sit and play one more song.
I wrote this poem Pipa Style for you
While you played for me
Stay here for a little while and talk about the same feelings and experiences as me
Sit again and play this tight, twisted and rapid music
Mournful and melancholy
Not like this music played before
Listening again, not a dry eye in the audience
Of all these people, who cried the most?
This Jiujiang worker, whose clothes are moist.
Notes:
Jiujiang: See notes for Part One. The city where Bai Juyi was currently working.