Category: last emperor

In ancient China, some renowned political figures had a penchant for poetry. We have translated poems from Cao Cao, a prominent warlord from the Three Kingdoms period. In this article we translated two poems written by Yuan Shikai, a famous general and statesman from the late 19th to early 20th century.

 

自题渔舟写真        Self-Portrait of a Fishing Boat in Ink

百年心事总悠悠， hundred years heart affairs always long long
壮志当时苦未酬。 strong ambition at that time bitter not realize
野老胸中负兵甲， wild old man chest inside bear military armor
钓翁眼底小王侯。 fish old man eye bottom belittle king marquis
思量天下无磐石， think measure sky under no steady stone
叹息神州变缺瓯。 sigh sigh deity provinces change incomplete bowl
散发天涯从此去， scatter hair sky edge from here leave
烟蓑雨笠一渔舟。 mist grass coat rain hat one fishing boat

 

Translation:

For so long this has weighed on my mind,
The bitterness of failed ambition.

An old man in the wilderness still feels the armor on his chest.
An old fisherman can despise nobles and kings.

I think there are nothing but rolling stones beneath these heavens,
And I groan because our sacred provinces are now just a broken bowl.

No longer dressing for court, I’ve gone far away.
To live in the mist, wearing a straw hat and coat in a fishing boat.

 

登楼 Climb the Tower

楼小能容膝， Tower small can hold knees
檐高老树齐。 eaves high old tree at the same level
开轩平北斗， open window equal to Big Dipper
翻觉太行低     on the contrary feel Tai Hang mountain low

 

Translation:

This tower is so small it can barely contain me
Though its eaves are as high as the old tree.
Open the window to be equal to the Big Dipper
Look down to see Tai Hang mountain.

 

Translation notes:

These two poems were both written by Yuan Shikai, a prominent Chinese military and political figure of the late 19th/early 20th century. Yuan Shikai served as the second provisional president of the Republic of China and headed the Beiyang government from 1912 to 1916. Notably, he was the great-great-grandfather of Jean Yuan, one of the translators of these poems.

The first poem was composed during a precarious period in Yuan Shikai’s life, marked by political turmoil. Rising to power through an alliance with Empress Dowager Cixi, he played a key role in ending Emperor Guangxu’s Hundred Days’ Reform. After the deaths of the Empress Dowager and Emperor Guangxu, tensions arose between Yuan Shikai and the ruling class of the Qing Empire, partly due to Shikai’s role in the conflict. The Qing Empire’s regent, Prince Chun, contemplated executing him but feared his influence over the military. Instead, Yuan Shikai was banished, supposedly due to a foot disease, and retired to his hometown, the village of Huanshang.

During this period of “retirement”, he publicly embraced a leisurely lifestyle, while secretly subsidizing the revolutionaries financially. Remaining in close contact with his allies, he maintained control over the military. Eventually, due to a Southern uprising of revolutionaries, he was recalled by the Qing empire to lead the army. Negotiating with Sun Yat-sen’s revolutionaries, he arranged the abdication of the child emperor Puyi, effectively ending the Qing dynasty.

The first poem, ostensibly about enjoying retirement, subtly reveals his ambition. He penned this poem to advertise his retirement, arranging for a Western journalist to capture an image of him fishing. This photograph, along with the poem he composed, was then featured in a newspaper publication. Anyone who was actually persuaded by the picture and poem must have been quite surprised when the “old fisherman” emerged from retirement to become the President of the Republic of China. Later, in an effort to further strengthen his authority, he reinstated the monarchy and declared himself the Hongxian Emperor, though as emperor, he only ruled for 83 days. The second poem focuses on natural scenery, distinct from the other poems we’ve translated before, reflecting both his ambition and the grandeur of the landscape.

As Jean is a descendant of the poet, she would like to share a family anecdote about her famous great-great-grandfather. When Jean’s grandfather was a child he lived with his family in Tianqin, and one day wandered into someone else’s backyard. A woman there seemed very upset to see him and scolded him in Korean, a language he did not understand. The woman was one of Shikai’s many concubines, gained by Shikai when he led a Qing empire garrison in Seoul and served as the advisor to the Korean government on his own government’s behalf. Jean’s grandfather did not report any further dealings with his own grandfather’s foreign concubines. Personal stories such as these, from Jean’s grandfather recounting, offer a glimpse into the complex life of this historical figure.

On a separate note, Vickie and Jean have established a Substack dedicated to classical Chinese poems. Our Substack offers a deep historical context for the poems and organizes related poems into groups. We invite you to subscribe to our Substack (with free subscription) for regular updates featuring new translations and commentary articles.

在北题壁  Writing the Poem on the Wall at North

赵佶        (Author: Zhao Ji, 12th century)

彻夜西风撼破扉，whole night west wind shake worn-out door
萧条孤馆一灯微。desolate alone house one candle tiny
家山回首三千里，home mountain return head three thousand li
目断天南无雁飞。look stop sky south no geese fly

 

Translation:

I’m alone in this empty house with one small candle
And all night long the west wind rattles the old wood door.
Looking back to my homeland three thousand miles away
I search the southern horizon but see no geese to carry our letters.

 

Translation Notes:

The author of the poem was technically the penultimate emperor of the Northern Song dynasty. While lacking talent in governing a nation, he was well-known for his talent in the areas of poetry, painting, music, and calligraphy. His ascent to the throne followed the passing of his elder brother who didn’t produce an heir. He was devoted to arts, literature, and culture during the early part of his reign. However, as the Jurchen-led Jin dynasty encroached upon the Song dynasty in 1126 AD, he abdicated, passing his crown to his eldest son and adopting the title “Retired Emperor.” This was a customary gesture in ancient Chinese history when an emperor foresaw a looming defeat, seeking to avoid the ignominious title of the last monarch abandoned by the heaven.

The following year witnessed the fall of the Song capital to Jin forces. He, along with his eldest son (technically the last emperor of the Northern Song dynasty), and the entire royal household, was taken captive by the Jurchens, with many royal consorts and princesses subjected to the miserable fate of becoming sex slaves―a dark episode chronicled as the “Humiliation of Jingkang.” The author spent the last nine years of his life in captivity, and this short poem reflects the harshness of his northern imprisonment.  The author discusses a wish that geese may carry messages from the South. The reason he wants to exchange messages with the South is that one of his surviving sons avoided the fate of being captured by the Jurchens, fled south, declared himself emperor, and continued the rule of the Song dynasty. The dream of return, unfortunately, never came true.

In translating this poem, we made two significant alterations to the original. We changed the order of the first two lines so that the reader begins by being located in the poet’s home and then hears the wind rattling the door. After some debate, we decided to make this change so that the translation would flow better and have a greater sense of immediacy. By reversing the order of the lines, however, we are centering the reader’s need to have the scene set and losing some of the subjective terror of the deposed king who first blurts out that the door has been rattling all night and then tells us where he is. We believe that a contemporary reader would have already understood the poem’s location and not have needed the explanation implied by the change we made. The final line of the poem ends with “no geese fly” in the original, but we added an explanation of why he was looking for geese. In both instances we have altered the original in an attempt to give the modern reader a better understanding of the events being described so that the reader would have some of the same experience of reading the poem that a Chinese person living at the time the poem was written would have had.

On a separate note, my friend Vickie and I have established a Substack dedicated to classical Chinese poems. Our Substack offers a deep historical context for the poems and organizes related poems into groups. We invite you to subscribe to our Substack (with free subscription) for regular updates featuring new translations and commentary articles.