Xu Baitao's Seal Script Longing Song (Works by Contemporary Calligraphy Masters)

Author: Xu Baitao
Editor-in-Chief: He Fanggui
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2002-09-06
Features: Excerpt:
bsp; The Emperor of Han, deeply fond of beauty, sought a peerless maiden for his realm.
A daughter of the Yang family, newly grown, was nurtured in seclusion, unknown to the world.
With natural beauty too precious to ignore, one day she was chosen by the king.
A glance back, a hundred beauties pale in comparison.
In the cold spring, she bathed in the Huaqing Pool, where warm spring waters away her delicate skin.
Attendants helped her up, weak yet newly graced with favor.
Her cloud-like hair adorned with golden pendants, she spent spring nights in the warm bed.
Spring nights are short, the sun rises early, and henceforth the king no longer attends morning court.
In joyous service and feasts, there’s no time to spare, spring outings and long nights follow.
Three thousand beauties in the rear court, yet all favor rests on one.
In golden chambers, she adorns herself for night, in jade towers, she drinks with spring wine.
Her siblings and kin are enfeoffed, bringing glory to their door.
Thus, parents across the land no longer wish for sons but daughters.
The Li Palace towers high, reaching the clouds, where divine music and breezes carry fragrance.
Slow songs and dances, strings and bamboo, the king watches all day without enough.
The drums of Youyang shake the earth, shattering the "Nirvana Dress" melody.
The city gates rise in smoke, a thousand chariots ride southwest.
The imperial standard sways, halting and moving, a hundred miles beyond the city gates.
The army refuses to move, helpless, she twists and dies before the horse.
Jade hairpins scattered on the ground, no one to retrieve.
Golden pendants and combs lost, the king covers his face, unable to save.
Blood and tears mix as he watches.
Yellow dust swirls in the bleak wind, winding paths climb the sword pavilion.
Few travelers below the Emei Mountain, banners dim, daylight weak.
The Sichuan River is green, the mountains lush, the emperor’s love constant day and night.
Seeing the moon in the palace, heartbroken, hearing the bell in the rain, heartbroken too.