Mu Lan Hua Man (When Paulownia Blooms in Splendor) - Liu Yong
/木兰花慢(拆桐花烂熳) - 柳永/
Where Paulownia Blossoms Unfold and Memories Stir
【Original Chinese / Literal English Translation】
木兰花慢(拆桐花烂熳)
拆桐花烂熳，正莺儿啼，骊驹嘶晚。
When the paulownia blooms fully, warblers sing, and dusk finds neighing steeds.
小桥外、绿波鸣玉，幽恨无人诉款。
Beyond the little bridge, jade-like ripples murmur, yet no one hears my hidden sorrow.
伤别久、惊离绪乱，
I have long mourned our parting; each recall unsettles me anew.
奈芳时、虚负寻芳伴。
Alas, I waste these fragrant days without the companion I once roamed with.
纵春来、莺蝶自双双，旧约不堪还看。
Though spring arrives, the orioles and butterflies frolic in pairs—our old vows sting to behold.
几回醉把清尊劝，只图得、共欢同感。
How many times did I coax you to drink from the polished cup, hoping to share our fleeting joy?
纵当日、红颜青鬓，
Even then, with rosy cheeks and dark hair,
怕寻常、容易消散。
I feared such everyday bliss would too soon fade away.
谁料者、如今风月空闲，雨梧风槛，
Who could guess that now, in idle solitude among wind and moon—paulownia leaves dampened by rain—
空相对，惆怅依然，
I face only emptiness, the same heartbreak lingering.
此意凭谁寄远？
To whom might I entrust these feelings over such distance?
木兰花慢(拆桐花烂熳)
拆桐花烂熳，正莺儿啼，骊驹嘶晚。
When the paulownia blooms fully, warblers sing, and dusk finds neighing steeds.
小桥外、绿波鸣玉，幽恨无人诉款。
Beyond the little bridge, jade-like ripples murmur, yet no one hears my hidden sorrow.
伤别久、惊离绪乱，
I have long mourned our parting; each recall unsettles me anew.
奈芳时、虚负寻芳伴。
Alas, I waste these fragrant days without the companion I once roamed with.
纵春来、莺蝶自双双，旧约不堪还看。
Though spring arrives, the orioles and butterflies frolic in pairs—our old vows sting to behold.
几回醉把清尊劝，只图得、共欢同感。
How many times did I coax you to drink from the polished cup, hoping to share our fleeting joy?
纵当日、红颜青鬓，
Even then, with rosy cheeks and dark hair,
怕寻常、容易消散。
I feared such everyday bliss would too soon fade away.
谁料者、如今风月空闲，雨梧风槛，
Who could guess that now, in idle solitude among wind and moon—paulownia leaves dampened by rain—
空相对，惆怅依然，
I face only emptiness, the same heartbreak lingering.
此意凭谁寄远？
To whom might I entrust these feelings over such distance?
In this ci poem set to the tune “Mu Lan Hua Man” (木兰花慢), Liu Yong intertwines the elegance of spring’s paulownia blossoms with a keenly felt sense of nostalgic regret. The opening lines establish a vivid scene: warblers sing in the late afternoon, while restless horses call as day wanes. This natural vibrancy initially appears promising—yet the poet soon reveals an internal disquiet, exposing how outward displays of new life can heighten personal loss.
The paulownia tree (桐树) holds a special place in classical Chinese culture, often linked with a refined aesthetic and musical resonance (paulownia wood is famously used in making string instruments). By choosing this tree as the focal point, Liu Yong suggests not only the beauty of the season but also the ephemeral nature of joy. The blossoms open in “full splendor” at a moment that feels all too brief.
As the poem progresses, natural images expand to encompass quiet waterways, unseen sorrow, and recollections of time once shared. A subtle shift occurs when the poet laments how he “wastes fragrant days” without his once-kindred companion. This gentle heartbreak is a hallmark of Liu Yong’s style: that even in the lushness of spring, the speaker remains haunted by absence.
Midway through the poem, references to “shared cups of wine,” “rosy cheeks,” and “dark hair” evoke fleeting youth and the joys of companionship. The poet acknowledges that even at the height of happiness, he harbored a premonition of its impermanence. This hints at a central tension within many of Liu Yong’s works: the inevitable passing of life’s brightest moments.
The closing lines paint an image of a solitary space, “wind and moon in idle solitude.” With the paulownia leaves wet from rain, the poet stands against a metaphoric threshold: the memory of what was—songs, laughter, closeness—contrast sharply with his current isolation. The question “To whom might I entrust these feelings over such distance?” underscores the longing for connection that remains unanswered. Rather than providing resolution, Liu Yong’s poem leaves us within this suspension: a realm of blossoming springtime and private reflection, where the brightness of life coexists with an undercurrent of unspoken grief.
Structurally, “Mu Lan Hua Man” follows the ci tradition by pairing gracefully measured lines with richly layered imagery. Each phrase is imbued with both sensory detail (the murmur of water, the dampness of rain on wood) and emotional nuance (nostalgia, longing, regret). By linking these elements, Liu Yong produces a tapestry in which the outer world becomes a mirror for the poet’s interior.
Ultimately, the poem invites readers to consider how quickly seasons shift and how memories may cast shadows over what should be moments of renewal. In bringing together the blossoming of paulownia and the poet’s lingering sorrow, Liu Yong reveals a timeless insight: that even in times of growth and vibrancy, the heart can remain tethered to what was loved and lost, quietly hoping for an impossible reunion.
Key points
• Centers on the paulownia blossom’s fleeting brilliance to highlight impermanence.
• Merges natural imagery—spring flowers, warblers, rippling streams—with the poet’s inward longing.
• References communal joy (drinking wine, shared vows) that now exists only in memory.
• Shows how lush seasonal displays can intensify the sorrow of separation or lost companionship.
• Concludes on an unresolved note, a hallmark of Liu Yong’s ci style that lingers in wistful yearning.