宣州谢朓楼饯别校书叔云 - 李白
A Farewell from Xie Tiao Tower in Xuanzhou - Li Bai
宣州谢朓楼饯别校书叔云 - 李白
A Farewell from Xie Tiao Tower in Xuanzhou - Li Bai
弃我去者,昨日之日不可留;
The days that have passed and gone cannot be kept.
乱我心者,今日之日多烦忧。
The troubles that agitate my heart—today is full of new anxieties.
长风万里送秋雁,
A sweeping wind from ten thousand miles carries the autumn geese,
对此可以酣高楼。
Yet here we can drink deeply in this lofty tower.
蓬莱文章建安骨,
Your writing recalls the lofty style of Penglai and the firm spirit of the Jian’an era,
中间小谢又清发。
Amid it all, I see the pure flair of Little Xie’s verse.
俱怀逸兴壮思飞,
Both of us bear grand ambitions and soaring thoughts,
欲上青天览明月。
Longing to ascend the blue sky and behold the bright moon.
抽刀断水水更流,
I draw my sword to cut the flowing water, yet it flows on all the more;
举杯消愁愁更愁。
I lift my cup to dispel sorrow—yet sorrow only deepens.
人生在世不称意,
Life seldom meets our desires,
明朝散发弄扁舟。
Tomorrow, I shall let my hair down and drift away in a humble boat.
Li Bai’s “A Farewell from Xie Tiao Tower in Xuanzhou” (commonly known by its Chinese title “宣州谢朓楼饯别校书叔云”) embodies the bittersweet intersection between life’s transience and a yearning for unbridled freedom. The poem begins with an acknowledgment that past days are irretrievable—an echo of how swiftly time slips away. This regret evolves into contemplation on present burdens, as Li Bai admits he cannot simply shake off his anxieties and must confront them.
Strikingly, he contrasts these sorrows with moments of sheer grandeur: a vast wind carrying the autumn geese, and the pleasure of sharing wine in a tall tower. Such images serve as metaphors for ambition and the desire to rise beyond earthly constraints. The references to Penglai and the revered Jian’an era further underscore the poet’s admiration for literary excellence and the lofty ideals of antiquity. Li Bai reveals his own poetic lineage by invoking the spirit of “Little Xie,” aligning himself with a tradition of refined and expressive verse.
The couplet on attempting to cut water with a sword, only for it to flow more vigorously, and drinking wine to dispel sorrow—only for it to deepen—is one of Chinese poetry’s most iconic depictions of existential paradox. It encapsulates the feeling that certain forces, like the relentless passage of time or the persistence of grief, cannot be mastered through sheer will. Despite that bleak realization, the poem ends with Li Bai’s characteristic resolve: if life cannot be bent to one’s will, he will take to a boat and sail forth, unconfined. This gesture of releasing worldly cares and letting hair loose suggests an embracing of spontaneity, a readiness to roam freely.
In fewer than 500 words, this poem’s message is twofold: while it acknowledges the ache of unfulfilled ambitions and the constant flow of time and sorrow, it also proclaims a longing for transcendence. Through imagery of winds, geese, towers, and a solitary boat, Li Bai points to the possibility that creative energy and bold aspiration can momentarily lift the spirit beyond life’s cares. The enduring resonance of this poem lies in its delicate balance of wistfulness and defiantly optimistic resolve.
1. Time cannot be reclaimed, yet each present moment holds potential for renewal.
2. True companionship may lie in shared intellectual and creative pursuits.
3. Attempts to control sorrow through forceful means can paradoxically intensify it.
4. Life seldom aligns with our ideals, but we can still aspire beyond our limitations.
5. Freedom—both literal and metaphorical—emerges when we release constraints and dare to venture forth.
I love the poem’s mix of grandeur and intimacy: a monumental tower overshadowed by the quiet heartbreak of leaving someone dear.
It’s a rooftop farewell where the poet’s heart is torn between a love for the present moment and a yearning for distant horizons.
Short but profound, it captures the ache of parting with poetic splendor.
In times of social distancing, I read this poem and think about how we still stand on our own metaphorical towers, longing to reach out. Li Bai’s words are a comforting echo of how farewells, no matter how necessary, always leave us with tender recollections and quiet hopes.
The final mood is a weave of reluctance and resolve—an invitation to move on while cherishing what’s left behind.
He sets a grand stage for parting, embedding personal emotion into the immensity of nature. The result is a bittersweet energy that lingers even after the poem ends.
Short but profound: it’s Li Bai giving us one last toast before the road calls.
The poem gently reminds me of the significance of transitional spaces, like train stations, airports, or, in Li Bai’s case, a towering lookout. These are the in-between realms of life, brimming with potential and sadness.
Each line reminds me that goodbyes can become gateways to personal growth.
He uses each image—like the sweeping sky or rolling waters—to mirror the fluid emotions of a farewell, turning something painful into a stirring panoramic scene.
Compared to Li Bai’s more boisterous “将进酒,” this piece carries a calmer, reflective tone, revealing his softer side as he contemplates separation and change.
You feel the bittersweet rush of parting: excitement to roam free, sadness to leave a dear friend behind, and the underlying wonder at the beauty of the world.
The farewell setting breathes both nostalgia and excitement into each line.
To me, the poem’s real power is in the hush that follows its final lines, as though we’re left alone on that tower, watching the poet vanish into the distance. That silence speaks volumes.
Short but beautiful: it glows with friendship’s warmth and the pang of separation.
He’s bidding farewell in style, letting his emotions echo across the plains. That’s so Li Bai—always amplifying the ordinary into something unforgettable.
The poem has this gorgeous layering of the physical tower, the spiritual weight of parting, and the poet’s free-floating imagination. It’s almost as though the height of the tower amplifies the emotional intensity of the farewell.
Though it’s primarily a farewell, the poem also suggests new beginnings, especially in the way he describes the sweeping landscapes surrounding the tower.
When he gazes at the river below, I imagine the water carrying away his regrets and making space for new possibilities. It’s gentle yet grand.
I can almost hear the echo of footsteps leaving the tower as Li Bai departs, carrying both regret and excitement in his heart, and offering us a graceful tribute to bonds that hold strong even at a distance.
Reading it, I feel a soft hush before the inevitable departure—like holding your breath just before stepping into unknown territory.
In today’s world of sudden relocations—whether for jobs or personal reasons—it’s comforting to read about a poet centuries ago grappling with the exact same emotions: excitement, uncertainty, and the quiet sorrow of leaving.
Those final lines sparkle with subdued optimism.
It’s astonishing how well it captures the universal tension of goodbyes, even though the setting is so tied to its time and place. Emotions truly transcend eras.
Li Bai’s poem from the Xie Tiao Tower captivates me every time.
I love how Li Bai elevates a simple act of parting into a grand, almost cinematic moment. There’s a deep blend of melancholy and boldness here, especially when he takes in the surrounding scenery from the tower. Despite the farewell theme, the poem exudes a regal sense of wonder, hinting that endings can be gateways to new beginnings. It’s both wistful and strangely uplifting, reminding us that life’s transitions can hold hidden beauty.
Reading it now, in an age of constant relocations and career jumps, I sense how universal farewells remain. Even with instant messaging and video calls, that pang in the chest is still real—Li Bai’s longing resonates across centuries.
There’s a sense that the height of the tower echoes the height of emotion he’s feeling. You sense both the intimidation and the exhilaration of a wide-open world.
Short but striking: it’s Li Bai’s graceful salute to the bonds we share when we must part ways.
There's a vivid feeling of looking out from a high vantage point, with Li Bai weaving the vastness of nature into the bittersweet emotion of saying goodbye. The poem’s imagery—lofty towers, flowing rivers—contrasts with the personal sorrow of parting, creating a heightened sense of drama. In his words, farewells are not mere endings but transformations, as though stepping onto a ship that sails from one realm of life to another. That interplay of grandeur and tenderness makes the poem linger in my mind long after reading.
The sense of swirling clouds and distant horizons underscores Li Bai’s longing for faraway places and the deep bond he shares with his companion. It’s a departure that simultaneously celebrates friendship and the irresistible pull of adventure.
I’m particularly moved by the way Li Bai balances sorrow and celebration. He’s not dwelling on loss; he’s celebrating the moment, honoring a friend, and reminding us that distance doesn’t have to diminish connection. He names the tower as if it’s a companion in the moment, a silent witness to the bond he’s about to leave behind. Through evocative language, he invites us to step onto that same terrace, gaze at the same sky, and feel the simultaneous pang of farewell and thrill of possibility. The poem makes parting feel like a bold statement of life’s ever-flowing course.
He’s saying goodbye from a place overlooking a vast landscape, as if to suggest that life is equally expansive, always awaiting our next step forward. That’s the magic in his words—transforming a personal goodbye into a cosmic scene of endless horizons.
The sense of letting go here is tender, but not tragic—it brims with an undercurrent of acceptance that the road ahead is part of life’s natural rhythm.
Brief yet powerful: Li Bai’s farewell is a universal human experience in poetic form.
The vantage from the tower gives me this sense of an elevated pause before the journey. It’s like looking at life from a step above, acknowledging the road ahead with a mix of apprehension and eagerness.
These lines feel like the wind tugging on your sleeves to move forward.
I find it parallels Li Bai’s “黄鹤楼送孟浩然之广陵” in mood, though here the towering vantage point and the night’s ambiance add a more introspective, almost solemn tone. Both share that stirring sense of parting.
I admire how he pours all these subtle shifts of the heart into just a few lines—there’s longing, admiration, and a hint of bravery in the face of distance.