#jiangkui — Public Fediverse posts

#WordWeavers: 11. Give an example of brilliant writing. What's special about it? @dandylover1

I may have an opinion on what I like, but the word "brilliant" implies clever. But very well. Since my objection is how culture bounds the question, here "billiance" in a different mode.

暗⾹·旧时⽉⾊
姜夔 〔宋代〕

旧时⽉⾊，算⼏番照我，梅边吹笛？
唤起⽟⼈，不管清寒与攀摘。
何逊⽽今渐⽼，都忘却春风词笔。
但怪得⽵外疏花，⾹冷⼊瑶席。

江国，正寂寂，叹寄与路遥，夜雪初积。
翠尊易泣，红萼⽆⾔耿相忆。
长记曾携⼿处，千树压、西湖寒碧。
又⽚⽚、吹尽也，⼏时见得？

Dim Scent

#JiangKui, 1155–1221, Southern #SongDynasty

Aged moonlight, how many times

have you shone on me, beside the plum blossoms?
Listening to the sound of flute.

Wake up, love—despite the air being cold
like washed jade, we climbed

to pluck the newest buds. Now,
as I’ve aged, my oblivious brushstrokes too weak

to recite the Spring wind, the sparse,
rose-colored dapples beyond the bamboo forest

sending a sharp fragrance.

….

The water provinces, desolate.

I want to send you this sprig of plum blossoms
tonight. Tonight, snow piles

for ten thousand miles. The emerald wine glass
weeps against the damp petals.

Remember where we held hands, the moment
when a thousand trees suddenly

bent crimson beside a lake.

Then piece by piece, taken by the wind.

These assembled past … when, again, will I see?

#Poetry

#WordWeavers: 11. Give an example of brilliant writing. What's special about it? @dandylover1

I may have an opinion on what I like, but the word "brilliant" implies clever. But very well. Since my objection is how culture bounds the question, here "billiance" in a different mode.

暗⾹·旧时⽉⾊
姜夔 〔宋代〕

旧时⽉⾊，算⼏番照我，梅边吹笛？
唤起⽟⼈，不管清寒与攀摘。
何逊⽽今渐⽼，都忘却春风词笔。
但怪得⽵外疏花，⾹冷⼊瑶席。

江国，正寂寂，叹寄与路遥，夜雪初积。
翠尊易泣，红萼⽆⾔耿相忆。
长记曾携⼿处，千树压、西湖寒碧。
又⽚⽚、吹尽也，⼏时见得？

Dim Scent

#JiangKui, 1155–1221, Southern #SongDynasty

Aged moonlight, how many times

have you shone on me, beside the plum blossoms?
Listening to the sound of flute.

Wake up, love—despite the air being cold
like washed jade, we climbed

to pluck the newest buds. Now,
as I’ve aged, my oblivious brushstrokes too weak

to recite the Spring wind, the sparse,
rose-colored dapples beyond the bamboo forest

sending a sharp fragrance.

….

The water provinces, desolate.

I want to send you this sprig of plum blossoms
tonight. Tonight, snow piles

for ten thousand miles. The emerald wine glass
weeps against the damp petals.

Remember where we held hands, the moment
when a thousand trees suddenly

bent crimson beside a lake.

Then piece by piece, taken by the wind.

These assembled past … when, again, will I see?

#Poetry

#WordWeavers: 11. Give an example of brilliant writing. What's special about it? @dandylover1

I may have an opinion on what I like, but the word "brilliant" implies clever. But very well. Since my objection is how culture bounds the question, here "billiance" in a different mode.

暗⾹·旧时⽉⾊
姜夔 〔宋代〕

旧时⽉⾊，算⼏番照我，梅边吹笛？
唤起⽟⼈，不管清寒与攀摘。
何逊⽽今渐⽼，都忘却春风词笔。
但怪得⽵外疏花，⾹冷⼊瑶席。

江国，正寂寂，叹寄与路遥，夜雪初积。
翠尊易泣，红萼⽆⾔耿相忆。
长记曾携⼿处，千树压、西湖寒碧。
又⽚⽚、吹尽也，⼏时见得？

Dim Scent

#JiangKui, 1155–1221, Southern #SongDynasty

Aged moonlight, how many times

have you shone on me, beside the plum blossoms?
Listening to the sound of flute.

Wake up, love—despite the air being cold
like washed jade, we climbed

to pluck the newest buds. Now,
as I’ve aged, my oblivious brushstrokes too weak

to recite the Spring wind, the sparse,
rose-colored dapples beyond the bamboo forest

sending a sharp fragrance.

….

The water provinces, desolate.

I want to send you this sprig of plum blossoms
tonight. Tonight, snow piles

for ten thousand miles. The emerald wine glass
weeps against the damp petals.

Remember where we held hands, the moment
when a thousand trees suddenly

bent crimson beside a lake.

Then piece by piece, taken by the wind.

These assembled past … when, again, will I see?

#Poetry

#WordWeavers: 11. Give an example of brilliant writing. What's special about it? @dandylover1

I may have an opinion on what I like, but the word "brilliant" implies clever. But very well. Since my objection is how culture bounds the question, here "billiance" in a different mode.

暗⾹·旧时⽉⾊
姜夔 〔宋代〕

旧时⽉⾊，算⼏番照我，梅边吹笛？
唤起⽟⼈，不管清寒与攀摘。
何逊⽽今渐⽼，都忘却春风词笔。
但怪得⽵外疏花，⾹冷⼊瑶席。

江国，正寂寂，叹寄与路遥，夜雪初积。
翠尊易泣，红萼⽆⾔耿相忆。
长记曾携⼿处，千树压、西湖寒碧。
又⽚⽚、吹尽也，⼏时见得？

Dim Scent

#JiangKui, 1155–1221, Southern #SongDynasty

Aged moonlight, how many times

have you shone on me, beside the plum blossoms?
Listening to the sound of flute.

Wake up, love—despite the air being cold
like washed jade, we climbed

to pluck the newest buds. Now,
as I’ve aged, my oblivious brushstrokes too weak

to recite the Spring wind, the sparse,
rose-colored dapples beyond the bamboo forest

sending a sharp fragrance.

….

The water provinces, desolate.

I want to send you this sprig of plum blossoms
tonight. Tonight, snow piles

for ten thousand miles. The emerald wine glass
weeps against the damp petals.

Remember where we held hands, the moment
when a thousand trees suddenly

bent crimson beside a lake.

Then piece by piece, taken by the wind.

These assembled past … when, again, will I see?

#Poetry

#WordWeavers: 11. Give an example of brilliant writing. What's special about it? @dandylover1

I may have an opinion on what I like, but the word "brilliant" implies clever. But very well. Since my objection is how culture bounds the question, here "billiance" in a different mode.

暗⾹·旧时⽉⾊
姜夔 〔宋代〕

旧时⽉⾊，算⼏番照我，梅边吹笛？
唤起⽟⼈，不管清寒与攀摘。
何逊⽽今渐⽼，都忘却春风词笔。
但怪得⽵外疏花，⾹冷⼊瑶席。

江国，正寂寂，叹寄与路遥，夜雪初积。
翠尊易泣，红萼⽆⾔耿相忆。
长记曾携⼿处，千树压、西湖寒碧。
又⽚⽚、吹尽也，⼏时见得？

Dim Scent

#JiangKui, 1155–1221, Southern #SongDynasty

Aged moonlight, how many times

have you shone on me, beside the plum blossoms?
Listening to the sound of flute.

Wake up, love—despite the air being cold
like washed jade, we climbed

to pluck the newest buds. Now,
as I’ve aged, my oblivious brushstrokes too weak

to recite the Spring wind, the sparse,
rose-colored dapples beyond the bamboo forest

sending a sharp fragrance.

….

The water provinces, desolate.

I want to send you this sprig of plum blossoms
tonight. Tonight, snow piles

for ten thousand miles. The emerald wine glass
weeps against the damp petals.

Remember where we held hands, the moment
when a thousand trees suddenly

bent crimson beside a lake.

Then piece by piece, taken by the wind.

These assembled past … when, again, will I see?

#Poetry