[Poem] SONG OF THE PIPA (WITH PREFACE) - A Concise Overview of Music, Exile, and Empathy

Song of the Pipa (with Preface)

Song of the Pipa (with Preface) - Bai Juyi

/琵琶行(并序) - 白居易/

A Lament of Exile and the Unifying Power of Music

并序(Preface)
【原文】
元和十年,予左迁九江郡司马。明年秋,送客湓浦口,闻舟中夜弹琵琶者,听其音,凡六幅有余。自谓穷居江海之上,久已无乐声,今忽闻之,凄然感怀。因为长句,歌以赠之,凡六百一十六字,命曰《琵琶行》。

【Translation】
In the tenth year of the Yuanhe era, I was demoted to serve as the Sima (military-administrative officer) of Jiujiang Prefecture. The following autumn, while bidding farewell to a friend at the mouth of the Penpu River, I heard someone in a boat at night playing the pipa. I listened to more than six pieces. Since I had lived in lonely exile by the rivers and seas for so long—deprived of any music—the sound filled me with sorrow. Thus I composed these long verses, over six hundred characters in total, and named them “Song of the Pipa.”



正文(Poem)



浔阳江头夜送客
At the head of the Xunyang River at night, I saw off a friend


枫叶荻花秋瑟瑟
Maple leaves and reeds rustled in the chill of autumn


主人下马客在船
The host dismounted from his horse; the guest remained on the boat


举酒欲饮无管弦
We lifted our cups to drink, but no music accompanied us


醉不成欢惨将别
Drunkenness brought no joy, only the sorrow of parting


别时茫茫江浸月
As we parted, the vast river was soaked in moonlight


忽闻水上琵琶声
Suddenly, we heard the pipa’s notes resound over the water


主人忘归客不发
The host forgot to go home; the traveler delayed his departure



寻声暗问弹者谁
We traced the sound in the dark, asking who the player might be


琵琶声停欲语迟
The pipa fell silent, as though the musician hesitated to speak


移船相近邀相见
We moved the boat closer, inviting her to appear


添酒回灯重开宴
We added wine, relit the lamps, and reopened our feast


千呼万唤始出来
Only after countless calls did she come forth


犹抱琵琶半遮面
Still clutching her pipa, half hiding her face from view



转轴拨弦三两声
Turning the tuning pegs, plucking a few strings


未成曲调先有情
Before a tune emerged, emotion already overflowed


弦弦掩抑声声思
Each string, each note subdued, resonated with yearning


似诉平生不得志
As if it recounted a lifetime’s unfulfilled hopes


低眉信手续续弹
She lowered her gaze, playing on as though following a gentle thread


说尽心中无限事
Telling an endless tale from the depths of her heart



轻拢慢捻抹复挑
Softly she plucked, slowly she twisted the notes, brushing and plucking anew


初为《霓裳》后《六幺》
Beginning with “Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Dress,” then moving to “Six Soft Variations”


大弦嘈嘈如急雨
The big strings sounded tumultuous as sudden rain


小弦切切如私语
The small strings whispered like confidential murmurs


嘈嘈切切错杂弹
Tumult and whisper, interwoven in her deft performance


大珠小珠落玉盘
Like big and small pearls dropping onto a jade platter



间关莺语花底滑
Notes fluttered like orioles in the flowers, sliding swiftly


幽咽泉流冰下难
Murmuring like a hidden spring trickling under ice


水泉冷涩弦凝绝
Chilled, the flow of water seemed to halt the strings altogether


凝绝不通声暂歇
They froze, blocking the notes which paused momentarily


别有幽愁暗恨生
Then a deeper sorrow, a hidden regret, emerged anew


此时无声胜有声
At that moment, silence spoke louder than any sound



银瓶乍破水浆迸
Suddenly, a silver vase shattered, water bursting forth


铁骑突出刀枪鸣
Like iron cavalry charging forward with clashing blades


曲终收拨当心画
She drew the piece to a close, pausing the plectrum at her heart


四弦一声如裂帛
One final note on the fourth string tore the air like rending silk


东船西舫悄无言
East and west-bound boats fell silent in awe


唯见江心秋月白
We saw only the moon’s autumn whiteness on the river



沉吟放拨插弦中
She lingered in thought, laid the plectrum among the strings


整顿衣裳起敛容
Adjusted her gown and rose, her expression solemn


自言本是京城女
She said she was once a girl of the capital


家在虾蟆陵下住
Her home, near Toad Hill, just outside the city walls


十三学得琵琶成
At thirteen, she had mastered the pipa’s art


名属教坊第一部
Earning a place in the imperial music academy’s top ensemble



曲罢曾教善才服
When her performances ended, even great musicians conceded her skill


妆成每被秋娘妒
In full makeup, she aroused the jealousy of beauties like Qiu Niang


五陵年少争缠头
Young nobles of the Five Mausoleums vied to present her with lavish gifts


一曲红绡不知数
Her red silk scarves were too many to count


钿头银篦击节碎
Jeweled hairpins and silver combs would tap in time until they broke


血色罗裙翻酒污
Her crimson silk skirt was stained in swirling wine



今年欢笑复明年
Year after year, she reveled in laughter and joy


秋月春风等闲度
While autumn moons and spring breezes passed all too easily


弟走从军阿姨死
Her younger brother joined the army, her aunt passed away


暮去朝来颜色故
Day by day, her own beauty began to fade


门前冷落鞍马稀
Her doorway grew deserted; the sound of horses was seldom heard


老大嫁作商人妇
Grown older, she wed a traveling merchant



商人重利轻别离
Merchants value profit and belittle separation’s pain


前月浮梁买茶去
Last month, off he went to Fuliang to buy tea


去来江口守空船
So she remained, alone on the boat by the river’s mouth


绕船明月江水寒
With only the moon circling her boat and the cold river as company



夜深忽梦少年事
Late at night, she often dreamt of her youth’s splendor


梦啼妆泪红阑干
Waking with tear-stained cheeks, rouge streaked with sorrow



我闻琵琶已叹息
Hearing her tale, I sighed in sympathy


又闻此语重唧唧
Then, upon her words, my heart grew heavier still


同是天涯沦落人
We are both drifters, cast away to distant frontiers


相逢何必曾相识
Why should we need past acquaintance to share such empathy?



我从去年辞帝京
I left the imperial capital last year


谪居卧病浔阳城
Demoted, ill in my lodging at Xunyang


浔阳地僻无音乐
This lonely place lacks music of any sort


终岁不闻丝竹声
All year, I’d heard no notes of pipe or string


住近湓江地低湿
Living by the Pen River, the land is low and damp


黄芦苦竹绕宅生
Yellow reeds and bitter bamboo sprout around my dwelling



其间旦暮闻何物
What do I hear from dawn to dusk here?


杜鹃啼血猿哀鸣
The cuckoo’s blood-cry, the ape’s mournful howl


春江花朝秋月夜
Springtime mornings with flowers by the river, autumn nights under the moon


往往取酒还独倾
Often I drink alone, sorrowful


岂无山歌与村笛
True, there are mountain songs and rustic flutes


呕哑嘲哳难为听
But their crude, discordant sounds pain my ears



今夜闻君琵琶语
Tonight, I hear your pipa’s eloquent voice


如听仙乐耳暂明
It is as though divine music suddenly brightens my hearing


莫辞更坐弹一曲
Pray do not refuse to sit and play another tune


为君翻作《琵琶行》
For you, I will compose this “Song of the Pipa”


感我此言良久立
Moved by my words, she stood silent for a long while


却坐促弦弦转急
Then she sat again, tightened the strings, and played more rapidly



凄凄不似向前声
Bleak and plaintive, unlike the earlier notes


满座重闻皆掩泣
All around, those who listened again covered their tears


座中泣下谁最多
Among them, who shed the most tears?


江州司马青衫湿
The Sima of Jiangzhou, whose blue robe was soaked through

Bai Juyi’s “Song of the Pipa (with Preface)” is a long narrative poem centered on a chance meeting with a pipa player while the poet himself is demoted and exiled to a remote outpost. In the preface, Bai Juyi explains the melancholy circumstances that led to his exile, setting the stage for the poem’s rich emotions.

The poem unfolds in three main parts: the introduction of the setting and the accidental discovery of the pipa’s music, the pipa player’s backstory, and the poet’s realization that he and she share a profound kinship as “two exiles” under heaven. Bai Juyi’s vivid imagery—moonlit waters, sparse autumn reeds—mirrors the bittersweet beauty of the woman’s music and her lamentable past. Formerly a celebrated performer at the imperial court, she describes how her fortunes have faded, paralleling the poet’s own downfall.

A hallmark of this piece is its interplay between environment and emotion. The lonely river, distant from the capital’s brilliance, becomes a crucible for both artistic expression and empathy. Bai Juyi underscores that strangers—bonded by shared hardship—may understand each other more deeply than those tied by mere acquaintance. The pipa’s sound resonates with both sorrow and fleeting splendor, reflecting the woman’s youthful glory and the poet’s lost grandeur. By the poem’s end, the tears of everyone present emphasize how art breaks down social barriers, evoking a universal empathy.

“Song of the Pipa” exemplifies the Tang Dynasty’s sophisticated blend of narrative, emotive resonance, and societal critique. Bai Juyi implicitly questions the fragility of status and the cruelty of exile, showing how both the pipa player and the poet have been cast aside by a system that once extolled them. The poem’s enduring appeal lies in its compassionate portrayal of shared sorrow, which blossoms into an unforgettable moment of communal understanding—offering solace and reflection for anyone who has ever felt displaced or misunderstood.

Key points

1. Music and art can forge deep connections between strangers, transcending social and cultural divisions.
2. Bai Juyi’s portrayal of exile reveals the vulnerability and instability of court life in the Tang Dynasty.
3. The poet’s empathy emphasizes that shared hardship often binds people more profoundly than shared background.
4. Through lyrical narrative and vivid imagery, “Song of the Pipa” remains one of the most moving reflections on sorrow and human solidarity in classical Chinese poetry.

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