[Poem] LIKE A DREAM (OFTEN I RECALL THE CREEKSIDE PAVILION AT DUSK) - A Brief Reflection on Wandering into Joy

“Like a Dream (Often I Recall the Creekside Pavilion at Dusk)” is a short ci poem by Li Qingzhao, one of the most renowned female poets of the Song Dynasty. Despite its brevity, the poem brims with a sense of spontaneous delight, momentary confusion, and the exhilaration of being enveloped by nature.

In this piece, Li Qingzhao describes a twilight outing to a pavilion by a creek. Lost in merriment and perhaps wine, she and her companions lose their sense of direction on their way back by boat. Yet their misstep leads them into a thicket of lotus blossoms, an experience that, instead of causing anxiety, imparts a whimsical sense of pleasure. The final lines capture both the surprise of struggling with the oars—“Struggled to row, struggled”—and the wonder of rousing a flock of gulls and egrets.

This seamless blending of the natural world with the poet’s mood is characteristic of Li Qingzhao’s style. She portrays joy not as a static feeling, but as something discovered moment by moment, even through small mishaps. The poem’s title, “Like a Dream,” suggests a brief escape from reality, mirroring the fleeting nature of happiness as well as the illusory quality of time. In just a handful of lines, Li Qingzhao conveys both the intoxication of the moment and the gentle stirrings of returning to herself when she realizes how far she’s drifted.

Written in Li Qingzhao’s signature graceful language, this poem resonates with readers who appreciate how a simple outing can transform into an unforgettable memory. Rather than lamenting confusion or mistakes, Li Qingzhao embraces them, shining a spotlight on life’s little joys and how quickly we might lose ourselves in them. It is this guileless acceptance of spontaneity that continues to endear her poetry to modern audiences.

Though the episode is brief, the poem invites us to reflect on the power of an unplanned adventure, set against a softly lit sky and accompanied by the rustle of waterfowl. The intrusion into the lotus-filled waters becomes more than just a geographic error—it stands for the sweet surrender to the present moment, a reminder that sometimes getting lost can be part of the enchantment.

Ultimately, “Like a Dream” epitomizes Li Qingzhao’s delicate balance between refinement and genuine emotion. By elevating a chance detour into a cherished memory, she reminds us that some of life’s greatest pleasures lie off the beaten path. The final image of startled gulls underscores how a human miscalculation can merge with nature’s rhythms—suggesting that, however briefly, both poet and landscape move together in spontaneous accord.