Drunken Under the Flower Shade (Thin Mists, Dense Clouds, a Day Heavy with Sorrow) - Li Qingzhao
/醉花阴(薄雾浓云愁永昼) - 李清照/
Where Mists, Autumn Blooms, and Subtle Longing Converge
【Original Chinese】
醉花阴(薄雾浓云愁永昼)
薄雾浓云愁永昼，
瑞脑消金兽。
佳节又重阳，
玉枕纱厨，
半夜凉初透。
东篱把酒黄昏后，
有暗香盈袖。
莫道不消魂，
帘卷西风，
人比黄花瘦。
【Literal English Translation】
Drunken Under the Flower Shade (Thin Mists, Dense Clouds, a Day Heavy with Sorrow)
Thin mists and dense clouds weigh upon a long, dreary day.
The scented incense—“auspicious brain” powder—melts away in the golden censer.
Once again, the Double Ninth Festival arrives;
Resting on a jade pillow inside gauzy curtains,
I feel the midnight chill seep in.
By the eastern hedge, I linger with wine after dusk,
Faint fragrances swirling about my sleeves.
Do not say these sorrows fail to move the soul—
When the west wind lifts the curtains,
I find myself more emaciated than the chrysanthemums.
醉花阴(薄雾浓云愁永昼)
薄雾浓云愁永昼，
瑞脑消金兽。
佳节又重阳，
玉枕纱厨，
半夜凉初透。
东篱把酒黄昏后，
有暗香盈袖。
莫道不消魂，
帘卷西风，
人比黄花瘦。
【Literal English Translation】
Drunken Under the Flower Shade (Thin Mists, Dense Clouds, a Day Heavy with Sorrow)
Thin mists and dense clouds weigh upon a long, dreary day.
The scented incense—“auspicious brain” powder—melts away in the golden censer.
Once again, the Double Ninth Festival arrives;
Resting on a jade pillow inside gauzy curtains,
I feel the midnight chill seep in.
By the eastern hedge, I linger with wine after dusk,
Faint fragrances swirling about my sleeves.
Do not say these sorrows fail to move the soul—
When the west wind lifts the curtains,
I find myself more emaciated than the chrysanthemums.
“Drunken Under the Flower Shade” (Zui Hua Yin) is one of Li Qingzhao’s most iconic ci poems. Composed to the tune “Zui Hua Yin,” it centers on the poet’s emotional landscape during the Double Ninth Festival (重阳节) in autumn. In traditional Chinese culture, this festival often highlights themes of reunion, climbing high to enjoy the changing season, and cherishing chrysanthemum blossoms.
**Opening Imagery**
The poem begins with a depiction of stagnant weather: “thin mists, dense clouds” blur the sky and stretch the day into a seemingly endless gloom. An incense censer—symbolized by the “golden beast” (金兽)—releases its fragrant smoke, yet even this comforting aroma dissipates. The immediate mood is both introspective and oppressively still.
**Nodding to the Double Ninth Festival**
By referencing “佳节又重阳” (Once again, the Double Ninth arrives), Li Qingzhao marks the time of year typically associated with outings and gatherings. Yet, rather than celebration, she experiences a solitude that only grows sharper. The mention of her “jade pillow and gauzy curtains” emphasizes an enclosed, private world from which she observes the season pass.
**Autumnal Yearning and Chrysanthemums**
In Chinese literary tradition, chrysanthemums represent both the essence of autumn and a certain quiet resilience. Here, they are a vital motif: Li Qingzhao drinks wine “by the eastern hedge” (a nod to famous lines by Tao Yuanming, who also extolled chrysanthemums), but the subtle fragrance only deepens her sorrow. When the west wind sweeps the curtain aside, it momentarily reveals her state of mind: she feels even more withered—“thinner”—than the yellow blossoms themselves.
**From Gloom to Self-Realization**
The poem closes on a haunting note—“人比黄花瘦” (I am more emaciated than the chrysanthemums). This signature line merges the physical with the emotional: the poet’s inner desolation becomes visible in her physical appearance, much like the autumn flowers that fade in the chilly breeze. This emphasis on personal, almost tangible melancholy showcases Li Qingzhao’s ability to fuse inner emotion with concrete sensory images.
**Li Qingzhao’s Craft**
Typical of her style, each line in “Drunken Under the Flower Shade” is spare yet resonant, relying on layered symbolism. Despite its brevity, the poem offers a microcosm of autumnal yearning—where joyous occasions paradoxically intensify solitude. The poet’s choice to highlight ordinary details (a flickering censer, a half-lifted curtain) creates an intimate atmosphere that allows readers to feel the season’s chill and the poet’s ache in parallel.
Ultimately, Li Qingzhao’s “Zui Hua Yin” epitomizes how Song Dynasty ci could transform everyday observations into timeless expressions of longing. The poem lingers in literary memory not only for its refined diction and measured cadence, but also for the way it captures a moment of private sorrow against the backdrop of a public festival—underscoring how the heart’s loneliness can contrast starkly with seasonal celebrations.
Key points
• Exemplifies Song Dynasty ci by weaving personal emotion into autumnal and festival imagery.
• Marks the Double Ninth (重阳) as a day for reflection, rather than typical merriment.
• Contrasts chrysanthemum resilience with the poet’s inward grief, embodied in the famous line “人比黄花瘦.”
• Uses subtle and precise language to evoke both seasonal chill and profound introspection.
