落花(其一) - 李商隐
Falling Blossoms (No. 1) - Li Shangyin
落花(其一) - 李商隐
Falling Blossoms (No. 1) - Li Shangyin
高阁客竟去,小园花乱飞
High tower’s guest at last has gone; in the small garden, blossoms swirl in disarray
参差连曲陌,几点到斜晖
They scatter unevenly along winding paths; a few catch the angled rays of the setting sun
肠断未忍扫,眼穿仍欲归
My heart breaks— I cannot sweep them away; my eyes ache, still waiting for your return
芳心向春尽,所得是沾衣
As spring fades, all that’s left of their fragile grace is the stain upon my robes
In “Falling Blossoms (No. 1),” Li Shangyin presents a scene of cascading petals in a small garden just as spring wanes. The first lines set up a bittersweet departure: a guest leaves a high tower behind, and blossoms scatter chaotically, reflecting a sense of upheaval or emotional disquiet. Their fall, described as “乱飞,” suggests more than mere seasonal change; it underscores the inner turmoil experienced by the speaker.
Li Shangyin employs delicate contrasts to evoke longing. While the day’s light slowly drifts into dusk, the speaker’s inability to sweep away the fallen petals demonstrates a reluctance to let go of fleeting beauty. In Chinese tradition, flowers often symbolize youth, love, or cherished moments—here, they highlight the transient nature of life’s most precious experiences.
As the poem progresses, the imagery of “眼穿” (literally ‘eyes worn out’ from waiting) amplifies a quiet desperation, hinting at someone who remains absent or unreturned. The closing line, in which the speaker notes that the only remnant of the blossoms is “沾衣” (their mark upon one’s garments), underscores how traces of the past linger even after their source has vanished.
Taken together, the poem can be read as a meditation on the interplay between beauty and sorrow. Spring’s departure leaves both physical and emotional imprints, reminding us that trying to hold onto transient moments of delight can heighten one’s sense of inevitable loss. Nonetheless, Li Shangyin’s gentle language also hints that such poignant reminders—like petals on one’s sleeves—can keep the memory of what was beautiful ever close, carrying an echo of spring even as the season passes into memory.
1. Beauty’s transience can amplify its emotional impact, as we are keenly aware of what must soon fade.
2. The act of not sweeping away scattered petals reflects a desire to preserve what little remains of a precious season.
3. Even when outward events—like falling blossoms—signal endings, they leave small, indelible marks on our inner lives.
4. Li Shangyin’s poem highlights how yearning and recollection can mingle to sustain the memory of what once was.
The tone is light yet tinged with regret. It’s as if the poet is whispering that beauty doesn’t last, urging us to cherish it while we can.
I can almost hear the flowers quietly sighing as they fall, each petal a gentle farewell.
Li Shangyin’s “落花(其一)” captures the fragile beauty of fallen petals. In just a few lines, he turns a common spring scene into a moment of reflection on impermanence. We sense an undercurrent of wistful acceptance: life, like flowers, inevitably transitions from vibrant bloom to silent descent. Yet, there's also a delicate grace in this passing, suggesting that even in loss, there can be a gentle poetry. I love how his subtle language draws our attention to how quickly joy can fade, while reminding us to appreciate its fleeting presence.
Short but resonant, it reminds me that even the most joyous seasons must end, like the petals scattering in the wind.
Such vivid imagery—Li Shangyin paints the moment blossoms drift away, embodying both sadness and quiet acceptance.
This poem makes me recall Li Shangyin’s “锦瑟” in its wistful undertones. Both pieces contain subtle reflections on loss and memory, though “落花(其一)” approaches these themes with a gentler brush, framing them in the quiet moment of flowers drifting away.
In just a handful of words, Li Shangyin makes us feel each petal’s graceful descent, as though we’re witnessing the swift passing of time.
The poem’s gentle sorrow reminds me of a quiet melody—softly resonating with the heart, then drifting into silence.
Li Shangyin’s verses highlight the tender sorrow of spring’s end, reminding us that what falls may also nourish new life beneath. There’s a quiet, reflective mood running through “落花(其一),” as though each petal carries with it a small whisper of regret. The poet’s choice to focus on this transitory moment underscores a larger theme: everything we cherish is impermanent. Yet that impermanence doesn’t diminish the beauty—if anything, it heightens our appreciation. As blossoms descend, they leave a poignant reminder of how delicate our own joys can be. It’s a poem that invites the reader to pause, to watch those petals in the air, and to reflect on how all things—both sorrow and delight—eventually pass, making our time with them all the more precious.
Reading it now, I’m struck by how it parallels our modern world’s fascination with short-lived trends—here today, gone tomorrow, leaving behind a subtle trace of nostalgia.
From a modern viewpoint, it resembles the bittersweetness of social media posts that vanish within 24 hours—fleeting moments of beauty that we can’t quite hold onto.
Compared to Bai Juyi’s “Song of Everlasting Regret,” which depicts grand tragedy, Li Shangyin’s poem is more intimate—focusing on nature’s gentle, everyday sorrow, rather than epic heartbreak.
I love how the language creates a delicate image of petals spiraling to the ground, almost like a dance at dusk.
Its sense of transience echoes Du Fu’s “Spring Scene,” yet while Du Fu bemoans war-torn landscapes, Li Shangyin focuses more intimately on the bittersweet grace of falling blossoms.