A Twig of Mume (Rising at Midnight to Gaze) - Li Qingzhao
/一剪梅(中夜起看) - 李清照/
Where Midnight’s Quiet and a Waning Moon Converge
【A Representative Reconstruction in Li Qingzhao’s Style】
一剪梅(中夜起看)
中夜起看，
漏永更残，
帘影疏疏月一湾。
书卷闲抛，
檠灯暗炷，
泪眼终疑旧梦还。
谁料银屏对影，
曾是同欢，
自别离、人去也难攀。
最是忍听风絮，
萧萧渐起，
吹过谁家翠幕寒。
一剪梅(中夜起看)
中夜起看，
漏永更残，
帘影疏疏月一湾。
书卷闲抛，
檠灯暗炷，
泪眼终疑旧梦还。
谁料银屏对影，
曾是同欢，
自别离、人去也难攀。
最是忍听风絮，
萧萧渐起，
吹过谁家翠幕寒。
Although Li Qingzhao did write multiple poems to the tune “Yi Jian Mei” (一剪梅), there is no confirmed historical piece titled “一剪梅(中夜起看).” The text above is a **creative homage** imitating her style of gentle imagery, nocturnal introspection, and unobtrusive yet poignant longing.
1. **Midnight Vigil**
- The opening lines describe the speaker waking in the middle of the night to a softly lit, half-deserted chamber. Classical Chinese poetry often amplifies emotions through late-night stillness: the hush allows each creak and flicker of lamplight to resonate with the poet’s inner state.
2. **Subtle Domestic Details**
- References to a half-read book (“书卷闲抛”) and a dimmed lantern (“檠灯暗炷”) paint a picture of a private, contemplative space. Li Qingzhao’s work frequently uses such small household elements to evoke deeper sentiments—here, they underscore both distraction and a longing that outlasts routine comforts.
3. **Memories and Separation**
- The middle lines hint at a once-shared moment before a “silver screen”—a cinematic expression of cherished closeness. “人去也难攀” (the person departed, difficult to catch up with) underscores that the beloved is gone, leaving the poet suspended between recollections and the inevitability of ongoing life.
4. **Soft Yet Haunting Soundscape**
- In the final lines, a mild wind rises like drifting catkins (“风絮”)—a gentle but unmistakable sign that the night’s chill seeps even deeper. Such subtle sonic cues (whispers of wind, the hush of distant curtains) mirror the poet’s sense of solitary reflection.
All these elements combine to convey Li Qingzhao’s signature blend of **exquisite restraint** and **emotional depth**. In place of overt wailing, the poem offers layered, night-bound imagery—a lamp’s glow, a moon’s faint curve, a half-finished book—to conjure the quiet heartache of separation. The final note is not despair but a subdued acceptance: that longing may endure, as gentle and insistent as the night breeze.
Key points
• Illustrates Li Qingzhao’s hallmark technique: using domestic, nocturnal details to embody her speaker’s solitude.
• Balances minimal action (light reading, lamp tending) with internal turbulence (tears, recollections).
• Employs a subdued sonic environment (rustling wind, silent chamber) to underscore unspoken yearning.
• Concludes with a lingering sense of separation—another hallmark of Li Qingzhao’s ci style, where resolution remains poignantly elusive.
