登柳州城楼寄漳汀封连四州 - 柳宗元
Ascending the Tower in Liuzhou, Addressing the Four Prefectures of Zhang, Ting, Feng, and Lian - Liu Zongyuan
登柳州城楼寄漳汀封连四州 - 柳宗元
Ascending the Tower in Liuzhou, Addressing the Four Prefectures of Zhang, Ting, Feng, and Lian - Liu Zongyuan
城上高楼接大荒
On the city tower, one meets the vast wilderness beyond
海天愁思正茫茫
Sea and sky stretch in endless gloom, stirring boundless sorrow
惊风乱飐芙蓉水
The fierce wind ruffles the waters where lotus blossoms float
密雨斜侵薜荔墙
Dense rains slant in against the walls draped in creeping vines
岭树重遮千里目
Mountain trees layer upon layer, blocking one’s sight for a thousand miles
江流曲似九回肠
The winding river meanders like nine twists of a sorrowful heart
共来百越文身地
Together we have come to the tattooed lands of the Hundred Yue
犹自音书滞一乡
Yet still, our letters remain stranded in one distant place
In this eight-line poem, Liu Zongyuan captures both the physical and emotional isolation of exile. Standing atop the city tower in Liuzhou, he faces a world of imposing natural forces—boundless skies, sudden gusts of wind, and slanting sheets of rain. These environmental images parallel his own sense of distance, both literal and figurative, from friends, fellow officials, and the capital he once knew.
The poem’s opening couplet sets the stage: a lofty vantage gazing out over a wilderness so immense that the boundary between land and sea, heaven and earth, seems blurred by worry and longing. The middle lines deepen the scene’s turmoil: wind agitates lotus-filled waters, while rain besieges walls draped with vines. These elements highlight a restless, dynamic landscape, echoing the poet’s inner disquiet.
The final couplets introduce the concept of “百越” (the lands of the Hundred Yue), which historically encompassed a broad swath of southern territories. By referencing Zhang, Ting, Feng, and Lian—four prefectures in the south—Liu Zongyuan unites geographic distance with cultural remoteness. He and his associates, far removed from courtly life, find themselves in a region traditionally viewed as remote and somewhat alien by northern standards.
Throughout the poem, Liu Zongyuan hints at the challenges of maintaining communication—“letters remain stranded in one distant place”—a plaintive nod to the reality that administrative exiles often faced lengthy separations from their networks. The poet’s carefully drawn natural images serve not only to heighten the sense of solitude but also to underscore resilience in facing a world that can feel both impossibly large and intimately constricting. By using plain yet evocative language, he invites us to consider the emotional implications of forced displacement, the ache of severed ties, and the abiding hope that words, even if delayed, might one day bridge the gap between those cast far from home.
1. The poem melds vivid natural imagery with a personal sense of exile.
2. Vast distances—literal and emotional—shape Liu Zongyuan’s reflections on duty and isolation.
3. The winding river and layered mountains evoke the poet’s inner turbulence and longing.
4. Despite geographic remoteness, the poem suggests a hope that correspondence and connection can endure.
When I read this poem, I imagine a lone figure standing atop the city wall, gazing across vast distances with a heart torn between wonder and homesickness. The architectural height of the tower contrasts with the poet’s personal sentiment, suggesting a profound tension between worldly positions and internal struggles. Liu Zongyuan’s evocative language transforms a mere scene into a reflection on distance—both literal and emotional—that resonates through time.
There’s a certain contemplative hush in each line, suggesting that atop the tower, the poet’s thoughts are as expansive as the horizon he observes.
In an era of instant messaging, the longing in these lines feels especially poignant—we can connect digitally, yet physical and emotional distances remain.
It’s similar to some of Bai Juyi’s works in the sense that a towering viewpoint underscores the emotional gap, but Liu Zongyuan’s voice is more subdued.
Compared to Li Bai’s soaring verses, Liu Zongyuan offers a more grounded sorrow, one that lingers in the quiet spaces between each image.
Those references to distant places carry a timeless sense of longing that echoes the journeys we take, whether physical or emotional.
There’s a gentle but pervasive melancholy that threads through the poem, as if the height of the tower amplifies the poet’s sense of separation.
Its quiet reflection reminds me of Liu Zongyuan’s other nature-focused poems, but here, the urban setting adds a different layer of complexity.
A short piece, but it holds a profound emotional weight—like gazing across great stretches of land with both wonder and regret.
Sometimes, a city’s fortress walls remind us of the barriers we construct within our own hearts, a sentiment this poem deftly touches upon.
To me, this piece is a timeless study in perspective: the higher the vantage point, the more we see, but also the more we realize how far our loved ones are.
Compared to Du Fu’s city vistas, Liu Zongyuan’s approach here feels more internalized, highlighting introspection rather than mere observation.
The poem leaves a subtle but resonant feeling of homesickness, reminding us that no matter how far we go, our roots call back to us.
It’s amazing how Liu Zongyuan conveys both longing and grandeur with such precision.
I love how the poem captures the expansive sky and the poet’s inner world at once.
I admire how Liu Zongyuan anchors the poem in a sense of place, emphasizing how our surroundings can amplify or echo what we carry in our hearts.
Sometimes, standing on a city rooftop at night, looking out over endless lights, I recall the same mixture of awe and loneliness this poem conveys.
It speaks to the universal experience of standing somewhere grand, yet feeling oddly alone.
In just a few lines, the poem conjures the bittersweet feeling of being physically elevated while spiritually yearning to be elsewhere.
I appreciate how '登柳州城楼寄漳汀封连四州' combines grandeur and intimacy—rising above the city yet carrying deep personal longing within each verse.
In a modern context, it’s like posting a panoramic photo on social media while secretly missing the friends who aren’t there to see the view in person.
It resonates with me how the poem underscores that distance can be as much an internal state as a physical reality.
Reflecting on it today, it’s akin to looking at a city map online, pinpointing far-flung friends’ locations, and feeling that pang of separation.
I find '登柳州城楼寄漳汀封连四州' intriguing because it merges the grandeur of a fortified city with the vulnerability of human emotion. On one hand, the tower and the panoramic horizon symbolize authority and open possibilities; on the other, the poet’s heart is burdened by distance and nostalgic longing. Liu Zongyuan offers a perspective that scales from the monumental to the deeply personal, showing how even lofty heights can’t quell the ache for companions far away. Reading this, I feel an emotional pull that transcends centuries, reminding me of times I’ve been in a bustling cityscape, feeling the paradox of closeness to everything and everyone, yet privately yearning for familiar faces that exist miles away. The poem serves as a bridge connecting physical distance, emotional depth, and the unspoken bond that links us across different geographies.
It’s intriguing how Liu Zongyuan weaves personal sentiment into the grandeur of a city skyline, making the reader sense both the vastness of the world and the poet’s private musings.
The poem’s sense of distance reflects not just geography, but also the isolation one might feel in a foreign environment—like moving to a new city for work or study.
Compared to his famous '江雪,' there’s more direct mention of human structures here, but the underlying sense of isolation remains a common thread.
Reading it now, I can’t help but think about global travel restrictions—like the poet, many people gaze toward distant lands they can’t easily visit.