Name: Xie Tiao 謝脁
Sobriquet: Xuan Hui 玄暉 ("Arcane Radiance")
Moniker: Xie of Xuancheng 謝宣城 (Xuancheng being the city where he served as magistrate)
Affiliations: Eight Friends of [Prince] Jingling 竟陵八友 (see below)
Although the tremendously talented Xie Tiao expired prematurely, at least he was able to establish fame at the tender age of 15. He hailed from an aristocratic family that boasted of several generations of royalty, and established himself as a prominent member of the literary salon that gathered around Prince Jingling, aka Xiao Ziliang 蕭子良 (460-494), the second son of the emperor. The most elite poets of this literary group were known as "Eight Friends of [Prince] Jingling," and met regularly at the picturesque West Residence (xidi 西邸) of the Prince.
In those days, any poet who was -- or aspired to be -- anyone at all assiduously sought the patronage of the literature-loving Prince. But not Xie Tiao! for our Dead Poet was born into greatness. Listen to what the imminent emperor to-be, Prince Jingling's dad, had to say about little Xie's poetry:
"If I didn't read Xie's poems for three days, I'd get stinky breath." (三日不讀謝詩便覺口臭)1
This cheeky compliment reminds us again that poetry was very much a performed activity in early Medieval China; the consumption of poetry was probably equal part chanting or recitation, and part brooding or reading.
Alright, now, stop reading and go take a lunch break. Go have some kimchi fried rice cakes or spicy fish vindaloo --- anything that uses an inordinate amount of pungent spices will do. And fear not of reeking of garlic, onion, or garam masala, because our Dead Poet Xie is here to the rescue! he will cleanse your aesthetic palate like a shower of intense Listerine, and overwhelm your cerebral hemisphere with the most tingling sensation you will ever experience.
遊敬亭山詩
茲山亙百里。合遝與雲齊。
隱淪既已托。靈異居然棲。
上幹蔽白日。下屬帶回溪。
交藤荒且蔓。樛枝聳複低。
獨鶴方朝唳。饑鼯此夜啼。
渫雲已漫漫。夕雨亦淒淒。
要欲追奇趣。即此陵丹梯。
皇恩竟已矣。茲理庶無睽。
"On Visiting Jingting Mountain"2
This mountain extends for a hundred miles,
numerous peak-clusters match the clouds.
Hidden recluses lodge inside it,
even numinous spirits live here.
Jutting upward, it covers the white sun;
extending below it links with winding brooks.
Intertwined vines are overgrown, creeping everywhere.
Gnarly branches are twisted high and low.
A lone crane lets out a dawning shriek,
starved flying squirrels cry at night here.
Wispy clouds have already dispersed everywhere,
the evening rain drizzles on and on.
Although my traveling is due to official affair,
I too get to seek the secluded path.
I follow the stream yet has not reached the origin;
the trail back seems far and lost.
If we truly want to seek unusual sights,
then from here ascend the vermilion stair.
This is all there is to the emperor's kindness---
this fact truly cannot be opposed.
(The very same Jingting Mountain in Xuancheng, Anhui, now a national forest park)
From the title and the first few couplets, we can immediately locate this poem within the standard poetic topics of landscape (shanshui shi 山水詩) and possibly recluse-seeking (zhaoyinshi 招隱詩). In the last one-third of the poem, however, the poet tells us that he is traveling on business ("Although my traveling is due to official affair"), and alludes to but transcends the traditional dichotomy between traveling for leisure and work ("I too get to seek the secluded path"). The last couplet is somewhat of a twist on the conventional ending of such tropes, which either calls for the poet to renounce the public life, or to confess one's loyalty to serve his country. Cf. the last couplet of Wang Can's 王粲 (d. 217) "Joining the Army" 從軍詩, especially the resemblance in the last tine:
即戎有授命。茲理不可違。
Raising arms requires giving one's life ---
this principle cannot be opposed.
Our Dead Poet Xie, however, ends his poem with a tinge of resentment at the emperor for sending him to a provincial town to serve his duties, away from the burgeoning literary scene at the capital. The "principle" that the poem professes as truth is Xie Tiao's loss of the emperor's favor. Hell, if I were the emperor, you bet I wouldn't give a goat's shit about having stinky breath. (Actually, the emperor whose favor has terminated for Xie is not the one to whom the above quote is allegedly attributed.)
In another poem also written en route to Xuancheng, Xie Tiao seems to have accepted this unfavorable assignment:
之宣城郡出新林浦向板橋詩
江路西南永。歸流東北騖。
天際識歸舟。雲中辯江樹。
旅思倦搖搖。孤遊昔已屢。
既歡懷祿情。複協滄洲趣。
囂塵自茲隔。賞心於此遇。
雖無玄豹姿。終隱南山霧。
"Going to Xuancheng Prefecture, leaving from Xinlin Shore going towards Banqiao"
Traveling southwest by the river is endlessly long; yet
the northeastward returning flow is swift.
At the edge of heaven, I see a returning boat,
among the clouds I can make out some trees by the river.
Fatigued by traveling thoughts, my heart grows heavy;
too many times in the past have journeyed alone.
I can enjoy the benefits of having a salary,
as well as take delight in the pleasures of rustic watersides.
The noisy, dusty world is cut off from now on,
I have found here the things that please my heart.
Although I lack the beauty of the black panther,
I too can hide forever in the mists of South Mountain.
The "black panther" in the penultimate line refers to a story from Biography of Exemplary Women 列女傳, a collection of anecdotes by the first-century exegete scholar Liu Xiang 劉向 (77-6 B.C.). In that particular anecdote, a wife warns her newly promoted husband not to gloat too much, by speaking of a panther, with a brilliant jet black coat, that hides in the mountain for seven days straight without coming out to hunt in order to avoid the poachers. Since then, the image of the black panther staying in hiding during times of chaos has become a favorite literary allusion in poems praising hermitage.
In the poem above, again we can see Xie Tiao's negotiation between two hitherto mutually exclusive activities in lines 7-8. Perhaps to console himself for being sent away to a provincial post, Xie Tiao boasts of having the best of both worlds: receiving a handsome salary while living the undisturbed life of a recluse. Obviously Xie Tiao did not have the fortune to live out his years negotiating between the two conflicting ideals, and ultimately left the safe mists of the Southern Mountain and once again joined the dusty human world, and was subsequently poached.
According to the 11th-century historiography The Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Governance 資治通鋻, Xie Tiao once discovered the seditious plans of his father-in-law Wang Jingze 王敬則 (438-498), a high-level minister, to depose of the emperor. Being the aristocratic loyalist that he was, Xie Tiao reported Wang, who was promptly executed along with most of his clan. As a result, Xie Tiao received a handsome promotion for his strict observance of the law in an age of severe corruption, the sine qua non of a dynasty's downfall. Even though Xie Tiao declined the reward, his wife supposedly harbored so much resentment towards him that she often carried a knife in her bosom and was ready to slash his throat at any time; understandably, Xie Tiao was scared shitless and refused to see her. (朓妻常懷刃欲殺朓，朓不敢相見。)
Thus we can surmise that the following amorous little bourdoir-poem was probably written before he reported his wife's old man:
玉階怨
夕殿下珠簾，流螢飛復息。
長夜縫羅衣，思君此何極？
"Jade Step Lament"
Evening in the palace, the beaded curtain is lowered,
Swarming fireflies darting to and fro.
Throughout the long night I sew my silk clothes
Thinking of you --- when will this end?
Or this little excursion poem on longing for the beloved:
王孫游
綠草蔓如絲。雜樹紅英發。
無論君不歸。君歸芳已歇。
"The Wandering Prince"
Green is the grass, creeping like silk.
on various trees red flowers bloom forth.
Don't say that the prince isn't coming back ---
even if he does, the flowers will already have wilted.
More well-known are still his landscape poems describing the suburbs around the capital:
晚登三山還望京邑詩
灞涘望長安。河陽視京縣。
白日麗飛甍。參差皆可見。
余霞散成綺。澄江靜如練。
喧鳥覆春洲。雜英滿芳甸。
去矣方滯淫。懷哉罷歡宴。
佳期悵何許。淚下如流霰。
有情知望鄉。誰能鬒不變。
"At Night, Climbing Three Mountain and Looking Back at the Capital"
From the side of the Ba waters I gaze at Chang'an,
From the north shore of the river I see the capital city.
The white sun graces flying eaves,
high and low can all be seen.
Remnant rosy clouds disperse into fine filaments,
the clear river is as still as white brocade.
Clamoring birds blanket the spring isle,
assorted flowers fill the lush meadow.
I have already left to dwell in a foreign land;
full of remembrance of those banquets, now in abeyance.
At this beautiful moment, my sorrow grows boundless;
my tears flow down like flying snowflakes.
Anyone of feeling will understand my homeward melancholia ---
whose black hair will not turn white?
The "capital" in the title refers to Jiankang 建康, modern day Nanjing 南京, which received a sudden flowering of cultural gaiety and literary arts centered around the Eight Friends of Prince Jingling. Lines 5-6 ("Remnant rosy clouds disperse into fine filaments / the clear river is as still as white brocade" 余霞散成綺。澄江靜如練)" has become Xie Tiao's star couplet, exemplary of poetic formalism and aesthetic sensitivity: metaphors of fabric are used to describe both the dusk clouds and the surface of the river; what is translated as "filament" is qi 綺, fine silk woven with pattern. Imagine a fire-lit sky dotted with flitting pink clouds, reflected in the mirror-smooth water surface like intricate embroidery. This is the height of the earliest development of poetic formalism polished by aesthetic sensitivity. Below is yet another poem in praise of Jiankang/Nanjing:
入朝曲
江南佳麗地。金陵帝王州。
逶迤帶綠水。迢遞起朱樓。
飛甍夾馳道。垂楊蔭禦溝。
凝笳翼高蓋。疊鼓送華輈。
獻納雲臺表。功名良可收。
"Song of 'Entering Court'"
South of the River is a land of exceptional beauty:
Jinling, the domain of princes and kings.
There are winding ribbons of green waters,
One after another vermilion terraces rise up.
Flying eaves flank grand boulevards,
swaying willows shadow the royal moat.
Sweet and mellow sounds of pipes fly around chariot canopies,
layers of drum rolls bid farewell to the exquisite coaches.
I want to present my memorial at the Cloud Terrace,
fame and accomplishment can rightfully be received.
The first two lines of this poem has often been appropriated by tourist agencies to advertise for the city of Nanjing (formerly known as Jinling), and the compound jiali 佳麗 could also refer to beautiful women. Thus even to this day people cite this poem as proof that as early as the 5th century, the area to the south of the Yangtze River was known to produce hot chicks.
A poet whose prodigious talent was tragically cut short, Xie Tiao managed to have a decent sized corpus preserved due to his contemporary fame. The age that he lived in was, however, truly one of despair and upheaval: our Dead Poet Xie didn't have to suffer his knife-hoarding wife for too long, for less than a year after he snitched on his father-in-law, he himself was inadvertently implicated in a coup d'etat that briefly took over the government, and he was put to death for his initial refusal to join. In such a chaotic age where allegiances are constantly double-crossed, confidants slain for the slightest change in political tides --- not even the thick mists of the South Mountain can protect and preserve the precious panther. The Jiangnan region/ South of the River, however, to this day remains an elegant reserve for doe-eyed young lasses, unrequited romances, and tragic heartaches as inscribed in the following song from 2004, "Jiangnan" from the Singaporean singer JJ Lin.
1 Don't ask me for the source on this; I haven't found it yet. I'm guessing it's the Comprehensive Mirror for Aid of Governance 資治通鋻. ↩
2 Jingting Mountain is located in modern day Xuancheng, Anhui.↩
Welcome to the south of the Yangtze river, where the boys are romantic, the girls and beautiful, and the poets die young.
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