Spring Longing - Li Shangyin
/春心 - 李商隐/
Spring Longing - Li Shangyin
/春心 - 李商隐/
春心莫共花争发
Let not the spring heart bloom in rivalry with flowers
一寸相思一寸灰
For each inch of longing, an inch of ash remains
夜月微寒灯影碎
In the chill moonlit night, lamplight scatters to shards
东风不解却催梅
The east wind, unknowing, still coaxes the plum to blossom
In this poem often referred to by its first line—“春心莫共花争发” (Let not the spring heart bloom in rivalry with flowers)—Li Shangyin juxtaposes the stirring of the natural world in spring with the equally urgent stirrings of human emotion. The speaker’s caution against allowing one’s heart to bloom ‘with’ the flowers hints at the inevitable sadness that can follow unguarded desire, as each measure of longing might be met with an equal measure of loss.
Images of chill moonlight and shattered lamplight intensify the poem’s gentle melancholy. The bright beauty of nature in its time of renewal contrasts with the poet’s deeper sense of fragility and transience. The final line highlights the east wind urging the plum blossoms to open, a natural force that moves ever forward, regardless of human sorrow. In this subtle tension between the promise of spring and the ashes of yearning, Li Shangyin reminds us of the delicate interplay between hope and heartbreak that characterizes love.
Ultimately, “Spring Longing” speaks to the dual nature of new beginnings: while the season of growth can reinvigorate the spirit, it can also awaken old wounds of yearning. By warning against letting the heart ‘bloom’ too freely, Li Shangyin underscores the cost of unrestrained affection in a world governed by change and impermanence.
1. The poem illustrates the delicate intersection between natural renewal and the potential sorrow of human longing.
2. Each image—moonlight, lamplight, blossoms—serves as a mirror for an internal emotional state.
3. Even as nature surges forward, the poet reminds us that hearts carrying unspoken desires risk the sting of regret.