钗头凤(红酥手) - 陆游
Pin on Her Hairpin (Soft Red Hands) - Lu You
钗头凤(红酥手) - 陆游
Pin on Her Hairpin (Soft Red Hands) - Lu You
“Pin on Her Hairpin (Soft Red Hands)” by Lu You (1125–1210) is among the most famous ci poems of the Southern Song Dynasty, treasured for its poignant reflection on lost love. It is widely believed that Lu You wrote this poem after a chance encounter with his former wife, Tang Wan, in the gardens of Shen Yuan. The circumstances of their forced separation—against their will—led each to remarry, yet their affection remained unresolved.
In just two short stanzas, Lu You conveys the intertwined themes of spring’s deceptive beauty and the enduring ache of an unhealed wound. “Soft red hands, yellow rattan wine” evoke a fleeting moment of shared warmth or memory, but the “east wind” swiftly unravels the fragile happiness. The poet laments the passage of years steeped in “parting and loss,” underscored by the repeated cry of “错、错、错” (wrong, wrong, wrong!).
The second stanza connects the poet’s ongoing sorrow—“one grows lean in vain”—with the unstoppable cycle of spring: although nature reawakens, the poet remains trapped in regret. The phrase “山盟虽在,锦书难托” (though the pledge of mountains still stands, no embroidered letter can be entrusted) highlights how a once-passionate vow—symbolized by a grand oath upon mountains—has been rendered meaningless in the face of forced separation and present realities.
In the end, “莫、莫、莫” (no, no, no!) mirrors the finality and frustration that overshadow both the poet’s longing and the resurrected spring. This contradiction—a season of renewal against a broken personal bond—makes the poem a timeless symbol of deep regret. Through carefully chosen images (red tears, drifting peach blossoms, idle pondside pavilions), Lu You fuses external scenery and inner sorrow. The result is a masterful depiction of how abiding heartache can linger despite spring’s outward revival.
• Depicts the aftermath of a forced separation between Lu You and his former wife, Tang Wan.
• Pairs spring’s apparent renewal (willow-draped walls, drifting blossoms) with the poet’s unresolved grief.
• Uses repetition (“错、错、错” and “莫、莫、莫”) to heighten emotional intensity.
• Demonstrates the Southern Song ci tradition of mirroring personal sorrow through evocative nature imagery.
It’s remarkable how 陆游 conveys complex feelings without over-explaining. Subtlety at its finest.
Imagine writing such verses after years apart!
Historically speaking, this era produced incredible art born out of hardship. 陆游 epitomizes resilience through words.
When compared to Byron’s romantic poems, this piece holds its ground. East meets West in shared melancholy.
This poem reminds me of unfulfilled promises and heartbreaks.
How relatable to feel joy fade into regret.
东风恶 feels symbolic of fate's cruelty.
This work stands out among classical Chinese poetry for its emotional intensity. Truly unforgettable.
Unlike 杜甫’s more politically charged poems, 陆游 zeroes in on intimate pain. Both styles leave lasting impressions though.
Thinking about global conflicts now, I realize how universal 陆游’s lament truly is. Love torn apart by forces beyond control.
‘莫、莫、莫’—a desperate plea for closure.
If only letters could bridge the gap between lovers...
'Tears soaking silk'—the sadness here is palpable.
The repetition of '错' drives home the finality of mistakes. No second chances here, only regret.
This poem echoes modern-day breakups too well.
The poet’s use of contrasts—spring versus sorrow—is masterful. It heightens the sense of loss tenfold.
The structure itself mimics fragmented thoughts—a perfect match for the content’s chaotic emotions.
Every line carries weight, like a heavy sigh.
I wonder if this was inspired by his own life struggles.
One can almost picture the scene: willow trees swaying against palace walls, a man drowning in memories.
The imagery of spring and sorrow is hauntingly vivid.
Would love to see this adapted into a film.
Some say poetry heals wounds, but here it seems to reopen them instead. Brutally honest.
There’s something profoundly human about how 陆游 captures fleeting happiness turning into lasting sorrow. It mirrors many stories across cultures.
Just heard news of a couple reuniting after decades apart—it reminded me of this poem’s themes of separation and yearning.
I admire how he intertwines external elements (like wind) with internal struggles. Symbolism done right.
In today’s fast-paced world, we rarely pause to reflect on our losses like 陆游 did. His words still resonate deeply.
This poem speaks volumes about societal pressures back then. Forbidden love remains a timeless theme worldwide.
Each stanza feels like peeling layers off a wound. Painful yet cathartic to read.
陆游’s pain feels so real; it transcends time and space.
While some poems focus solely on beauty, this one dives straight into emotional turmoil. A bold choice that pays off.
A poignant tale of lost love, beautifully captured in words.
Such raw emotion—'错、错、错' hits deep.
Feels like reading an ancient diary of despair.
Recently read about poets exiled from their homes—it struck me how much 陆游 might’ve felt displaced too, just like them.
It’s as if every word bleeds with longing.
What fascinates me most is how 陆游 balances natural imagery with personal anguish. Nature thrives while humans suffer.
Spring blooms but hearts don’t heal—that contrast hurts.
Reading 钗头凤 today made me think about how even centuries ago, people grappled with similar emotions. Heartbreak doesn’t age.
This poem makes me ponder recent historical dramas depicting forbidden love during war times. So relevant yet timeless.
Though written long ago, these lines mirror modern tales of estranged partners. Art imitating life indeed.
Comparing this to 李清照’s works shows different shades of grief.
Reading this alongside 李白’s carefree verses highlights two sides of human experience: joy vs. sorrow.
The phrase 'tears soaking silk' struck me—it’s not just sadness but also fragility laid bare. Beautifully tragic.
Even amidst lush descriptions of spring, the underlying grief dominates. A bittersweet masterpiece.