赋得古原草送别 - 白居易
Farewell on the Ancient Plain with Grass - Bai Juyi
赋得古原草送别 - 白居易
Farewell on the Ancient Plain with Grass - Bai Juyi
离离原上草
Green, green the grass upon the ancient plain
一岁一枯荣
Each year it withers, yet each year it flourishes again
野火烧不尽
Wildfires cannot fully consume it
春风吹又生
And once spring breezes blow, it comes to life anew
远芳侵古道
Its distant fragrance creeps across the old roadway
晴翠接荒城
In bright sunshine, verdant blades reach the deserted walls
又送王孙去
Once more, I bid a friend farewell
萋萋满别情
The luxuriant grass mirrors the depth of parting sorrow
In this poem, Bai Juyi employs the imagery of resilient grass growing on an ancient plain to symbolize parting and renewal. The grass, which continually withers and revives, represents the perennial cycle of life’s gains and losses. Even the threat of wildfires fails to destroy it completely—an apt illustration of how hope may persist despite adversity.
The setting’s expansive greenery rolling across deserted paths and walls suggests a timeless space where friends must eventually part. As the poet sends off a companion (“王孙”), the lush grass reflects both the flourishing bonds of friendship and the sorrow of departure. By likening human emotions to the tenacious growth of grass, Bai Juyi ties personal sentiment to the unstoppable rhythms of nature.
Ultimately, “Farewell on the Ancient Plain with Grass” affirms that even amidst separation and hardship, renewal and hope are never far behind. The unstoppable return of spring hints at emotional continuity: though farewells are painful, they are also woven into the cycle of life, much like the grass that never fails to grow again. Such gentle resilience offers comfort and perspective, reminding us that each goodbye can herald a new beginning—even if we cannot yet see it in the moment of parting.
1. Nature’s cyclical renewal symbolizes resilience and hope.
2. Farewells, though painful, are part of life’s recurring rhythms.
3. Bai Juyi ties human emotions to the broader natural order, offering solace and perspective.
After months of remote work, many colleagues are relocating, and this poem’s farewell theme hits home—there’s a certain comfort in knowing goodbyes aren’t always final.
I’m struck by the elegance of how Bai Juyi uses grass as a metaphor. Its quiet growth mirrors how partings can fade into memory yet remain rooted in our hearts. It’s like he’s reminding us that people move on, yet the bond persists underneath, always ready to spring back if the conditions are right.
Compared to Li Bai’s often exuberant odes to friendship, ‘赋得古原草送别’ offers a more reflective tone on farewells. Bai Juyi lingers on the subtle persistence of nature to underscore that even after goodbyes, life carries on. Li Bai’s verses might celebrate the joy of meeting, but Bai Juyi’s perspective on separation feels more meditative, evoking both the pain of departure and the enduring hope for reunion.
When I read about reforestation efforts in previously barren lands, I recall this poem’s mention of grass growing endlessly, symbolizing the unstoppable cycle of life. It’s comforting to see real-world parallels of renewal and hope, especially in a time where environmental concerns loom large. Bai Juyi seems to suggest that no matter how many times we say goodbye, nature keeps reminding us that resilience is possible. This message feels especially relevant as we witness communities banding together to restore landscapes, echoing the poet’s faith in the grass’s return year after year.
During recent virtual family reunions, I couldn’t help but think of ‘古原草’ as a symbol of resilience in uncertain times. Like the ever-returning grass, we keep finding ways to reconnect, even when physically apart. Bai Juyi’s gentle words highlight how even in separation, there’s a thread of hope ready to sprout anew. The poem gracefully captures both the sorrow and the solace that come with saying goodbye, reminding us that life’s cycles may bring partings, but also eventual returns.
With international travel reopening, the sense of parting for a journey has a renewed significance. Reading Bai Juyi’s verses about goodbye resonates in a world where planes are taking off again, carrying hopes and fears to distant lands. In the poem, the grass always returns with the spring, reflecting how we, too, seek fresh starts after a long winter of constraints and uncertainties. That cyclical comfort grounds me whenever I feel anxious about what’s next.
The poem’s simple yet moving imagery of grass and parting resonates across centuries—it’s amazing how something so old still feels fresh today.
Lately, with so many students heading abroad for university, reading this poem reminds me of how bittersweet farewells have always been.
The poem feels so gentle—just a few lines about grass and parting, yet it captures a world of sorrow and renewal.
Seeing how people now organize drive-by graduations or farewell parades during lockdowns makes the poem’s theme of sending someone off even more poignant.