[Poem] WASHING CREEK SAND (DO NOT PERMIT THE CUP’S AMBER WINE TO DEEPEN) - An Evening’s Wine, a Fading Dream, and Unanswered Longing

In “Washing Creek Sand (Do Not Permit the Cup’s Amber Wine to Deepen),” Li Qingzhao composes a ci poem of just a few lines that brim with emotional urgency. Here, the poet sets the scene around late evening or the small hours of the night: soft lamplight, fading incense, and a gentle breeze stirring a distant bell.

The first stanza urges caution in indulgence—“do not let the cup fill too deep” with wine as lustrous as amber. Yet, even a modest taste stirs the poet’s thoughts, eroding her composure before she can fully surrender to inebriation. The background detail of a distant bell responding to the late breeze evokes a feeling of hush and a recognition that time flows on, regardless of the poet’s inward turbulence.

In the second stanza, the “aloeswood incense” (瑞脑) is nearly finished, an image that doubles as a metaphor for the poet’s dreamlike or hopeful reveries—snuffed out too soon. The mention of a well’s pulley (the “辘轳”) squeaking into stillness at moonset furthers the sense that all motion or contact with the outside world has ceased. This leaves her alone with her thoughts.

The final question—“How can the heartless one understand in this long night?”—cuts to the core of the poem’s lament. Despite the quiet artistry of the surroundings, the poet’s yearning remains isolated; the one who might bring solace is absent or unresponsive.

Throughout, Li Qingzhao’s typical blend of tiny details (wine’s hue, drifting incense, a creaking pulley) with deep emotional resonance shines through. Ordinary objects—wine cups, incense burners, well pulleys—become potent symbols of fleeting comfort and the unstoppable passing of the night. Within this elegant brevity, she captures not only a personal heartache but also the universal pang of solitary reflection.

This ci poem thus exemplifies Li Qingzhao’s mastery of layered allusions and atmospheric focus. On the surface, it is a moment in time—a brief pause with a cup of wine and half-spent incense. Yet, the hush and longing that envelop the poet reveal a more profound tension: an aching desire for empathy in a world lulled into slumber.