— Wu Rong
You see your splendor gone with the wind disappear;
You waft with resplendent feather from year to year.
Your tears have dyed the flowers red in alien hill;
But when spring comes to your garden, grass looks green still.
Among the leaves, trees dark in rain long you stay;
At moonset you wail and wait for the dawning day.
On Southern River you sadden the setting sun.
Why should you drown in grief the boat of roaming son?
Note
Wu Rong (c. 850–903) was a late Tang Dynasty poet known for his emotionally resonant and often melancholic verse, reflecting the decline of the empire and the fragility of human life. His poetry blends lyrical beauty with historical awareness, frequently using birds – especially the zugui (Chinese cuckoo, or zi gui) – as symbols of sorrow, lost glory, and unfulfilled longing.
His poem “The Cuckoo” (Zi Gui) is a haunting meditation on transience and exile. It opens with a sweeping lament: the entire nation’s former splendor has vanished like water flowing into the river of time. The cuckoo, mythically said to be the spirit of Du Yu – the ancient king of Shu state who died in regret – wanders year after year, its feathers adrift, crying out in grief.
Wherever it calls from distant mountains, flowers are said to bloom red as blood; yet in the old imperial gardens, spring returns indifferently, with grass rising like mist – life goes on, oblivious to loss. The bird hides in dense green trees during dark rains and cries through the night under a slanting moon, its voice echoing until dawn. By dusk on the Xiang River, its cry grows unbearably mournful, so piercing that it “breaks the hearts of travelers” aboard homeward-bound boats.
Through the cuckoo’s eternal lament, Wu Rong gives voice to the collective sorrow of a collapsing dynasty – and to anyone who has ever grieved what can never be reclaimed.
子规
— 吴融
举国繁华委逝川，
羽毛飘荡一年年。
他山叫处花成血，
旧苑春来草似烟。
雨暗不离浓绿树，
月斜长吊欲明天。
湘江日暮声凄切，
愁杀行人归去船。
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