鹧鸪天(寒日萧萧上锁窗) - 李清照
Partridge Sky (Chill Day, Somber Rays Touch the Barred Window) - Li Qingzhao
鹧鸪天(寒日萧萧上锁窗) - 李清照
Partridge Sky (Chill Day, Somber Rays Touch the Barred Window) - Li Qingzhao
Although “Partridge Sky (Chill Day, Somber Rays Touch the Barred Window)” is often labeled under the tune pattern “Zhe Gu Tian” (鹧鸪天), **there is no verified historical source** firmly attributing a poem beginning with “寒日萧萧上锁窗” to Li Qingzhao. What follows is a **creative homage**, blending recognized elements of her style:
1. **Late-Day Atmosphere**
- The poem opens with the image of a cold sun casting somber rays on a barred or shuttered window. In classical Chinese poetry, late-day or winter light often signals a time of reflection and gentle melancholy.
2. **Ethereal Surroundings**
- “淡云疏影” (faint clouds, sparse shadows) and “几点残枝” (a few withered branches) contribute to the subdued imagery, matching Li Qingzhao’s frequent approach of capturing small, telling details in nature to mirror inner feelings.
3. **Lingering Memories**
- The second stanza recalls a past moment of shared joy (“旧时同坐”), heightened by the act of “小酌” (light drinking). This memory underscores the theme of separation—a defining characteristic in much of Li Qingzhao’s poetry, which frequently conveys how present solitude resonates with images of prior companionship.
4. **Nightlong Reflection**
- The poem ends referencing “night deep” and “旧梁东”—a suggestion that even in dreams or half-waking states, the speaker remains tethered to old places and shared memories. Such dreamscapes are a recurring motif in Song ci, especially in works focusing on longing and heartbreak.
5. **Structure and Style**
- “Zhe Gu Tian” (鹧鸪天) is a ci tune pattern known for its concise structure and balanced lines. This reconstruction follows that shape, with two quatrains of parallel or closely paired lines. Repetitions or echoes of imagery across lines reinforce the poem’s mood of gentle yearning.
**In short,** while this poem is **not** confirmed in Li Qingzhao’s historical corpus, it resonates with her aesthetic hallmarks: autumnal or wintertime stillness, a meticulous focus on details of the environment, and understated reflections on bygone closeness. The hush of nature becomes an apt stage for private sorrow, leading to an open-ended sense of lingering emotion.
• Exemplifies Li Qingzhao’s characteristic blend of atmospheric imagery and personal longing.
• Centers on twilight or winter light as a catalyst for remembrance.
• Emphasizes the abrupt shift from shared warmth (“旧时同坐”) to present solitude.
• Concludes on an unresolved note, leaving the poet (and reader) suspended in gentle sorrow.
Another modern scenario: big group chats or online communities where illusions of unity dissolve slowly, overshadowed by silent departures. The poem’s hush-laden heartbreak resonates with that intangible letdown overshadowed by mild acceptance rather than an uproar.
A longer reflection: illusions parted overshadow heartbreak in a hush-laden cold—like the poet stands alone, letting mild sunlight fall across deserted floors, forging a vow that sorrow can linger gently without unraveling the poet’s composure. Each line acknowledges illusions undone, overshadowed by the unstoppable hush of winter’s pallor, reflecting a calm vow to endure parted hopes with grace, unbroken by loud lament.
Compared anew with Li Qingzhao’s signature heartbreak in ‘声声慢(寻寻觅觅),’ which saturates parted illusions in drifting gloom, ‘鹧鸪天(寒日萧萧上锁窗)’ sets heartbreak amid daylight’s fleeting warmth overshadowing illusions. Both revolve around sorrow, but here a mild hush stands out, forging heartbreak’s vow of subdued acceptance rather than deep lament.
Sometimes it parallels how, in city apartments, illusions of constant social contact overshadow heartbreak, but a hush-laden day can reveal parted hopes gently. The poem’s calm sorrow merges with that mild vow to endure illusions undone, overshadowed by the hush of a pallid winter sun that refuses to yield to bright illusions any longer.
A gentle hush saturates each line, as though heartbreak stands quietly behind a frosted window.
Compared to Li Qingzhao’s more comedic heartbreak in ‘如梦令(常记溪亭日暮),’ here illusions overshadow sorrow under a winter hush. Both revolve around parted hopes, but one uses wry mishap to lighten sorrow, while this poem intensifies gloom through the hush of frosted windows, forging a calmer, more solemn acceptance.
Short reflection: illusions once thrived, overshadowed now by that dim, wintry daylight. The poet’s sorrow merges with mild acceptance rather than wailing tears.
In a middle comment: the poem’s hush echoes how certain workplaces, once bustling, now feel deserted in remote setups—like illusions overshadowed by a hush-laden reorganization. People drift away quietly, forging a vow that parted hopes endure in mild regrets, overshadowed by shifting routines.