Bai Juyi’s The Song of Everlasting Sorrow (also known as Song of Everlasting Regret) stands as one of the most celebrated narrative poems from China’s illustrious Tang Dynasty (618-907 CE). Written by the prolific poet Bai Juyi (l. 772-846 CE), this work captures the tragic love affair between Emperor Xuanzong (r. 712-756 CE) and his beloved consort, Lady Yang. Upon its publication in 806 CE, the poem achieved immediate popularity, resonating deeply with readers and securing its place in the canon of Chinese literature. Its themes of passionate love, profound loss, and the hope of connection beyond death continue to captivate audiences across centuries and cultures. Bai Juyi, known for his clear and accessible style, crafted the poem’s vivid imagery to reach a wide audience, ensuring that the emotional depth of the narrative was universally felt.
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While the historical account of Emperor Xuanzong and Lady Yang is rooted in the Tang era, Bai Juyi cleverly places the story within the earlier Han Dynasty (202 BCE – 220 CE) in the poem, perhaps to offer a sense of historical distance or timelessness to the tragedy. Bai Juyi penned over 2,800 poems covering diverse subjects, demonstrating his mastery and versatility. His works remain popular in China and Japan, but The Song of Everlasting Sorrow is arguably his most enduring piece, largely due to its powerful exploration of love’s intensity and the sorrow that follows its loss. It highlights the artistic value of poetry by transforming historical events into a narrative that speaks to the universal human experience of grief and longing.
The Historical Echoes in the Poem
To fully appreciate The Song of Everlasting Sorrow, understanding its historical foundation is key. Emperor Xuanzong initially reigned as one of the most capable rulers of the Tang Dynasty. Following the examples of predecessors like Taizong and Empress Wu Zetian, he implemented significant reforms that led to a period of unprecedented prosperity and affluence, marking the height of Tang power.
However, around 734 CE, a shift occurred. Xuanzong grew weary of his imperial duties and began delegating more authority, first to his wife and later, after her death, increasingly to officials like Li Linfu. His focus turned inward, seeking comfort and entertainment. This led him to gather thousands of beautiful women in his palace. His life changed irrevocably in 741 CE when he became infatuated with Yang Guifei, the young wife of his son. This passion led Yang Guifei to leave her husband and become the Emperor’s favored consort.
Xuanzong’s devotion to Lady Yang became his undoing. He neglected state affairs, granting her every wish, including appointing her unqualified family members to powerful positions. These appointments led to widespread corruption and negligence, eroding the foundations of Xuanzong’s earlier reforms. Concurrently, the reliance on foreign generals within the military structure created instability, exacerbated by figures like Li Linfu who manipulated appointments for personal gain. The country’s prosperity began to decline as officials prioritized luxury over responsibility. Exploring these aspects helps illuminate the societal backdrop against which this personal tragedy unfolded, offering insight into the broader canvas of Chinese literature and history.
Lady YangThe Trustees of the British Museum (Copyright)
The simmering discontent culminated in the An Lushan Rebellion in 755 CE. An Lushan, a general who was even friends with Lady Yang, perceived the Yang family’s abuses as a sign of the Emperor’s unfit rule. Leading the army’s best troops, An Lushan launched a revolt, overthrowing Xuanzong and briefly declaring himself emperor. Though the rebellion was eventually suppressed, it plunged China into years of devastating conflict (755-763 CE), resulting in immense loss of life and crippling the Tang Dynasty. This period is often studied alongside accounts of the best literary works of all time, as historical upheaval often fuels artistic expression.
Fleeing the capital in 755 CE, Xuanzong, Lady Yang, and her family were accompanied by a military escort. The soldiers, blaming the Yang family for the country’s misfortunes, murdered Lady Yang’s relatives. They then demanded Lady Yang’s death. Xuanzong initially refused, but the unwavering resolve of his men left him no alternative. Acknowledging his own culpability in allowing his affection to overshadow his duties, he consented to Lady Yang being strangled.
Heartbroken and no longer desiring to rule, Xuanzong abdicated in favor of his son, Suzong (r. 756-762 CE). He retired from public life, consumed by grief over Lady Yang. Both Xuanzong and Suzong died of disease within two weeks of each other in 762 CE. The dynasty’s stability was eventually restored by Emperor Daizong (r. 762-779 CE). This tragic historical arc provides the potent emotional core that Bai Juyi draws upon in his poem.
The Narrative Woven in Verse
Bai Juyi’s poem transforms the historical events into a poignant narrative of consuming passion and inescapable sorrow. It begins with an emperor of the Han Dynasty whose love surpasses life itself, seeking a woman whose beauty could make him forget his imperial responsibilities.
Emperor XuanzongZhuwq (Public Domain)
A certain Emperor of the Han dynasty loved love even more than life, and longed for a woman so beautiful that He could forget the court and all his duties. His empire could collapse and He wouldn’t care.
For years He ruled the empire, seeking her but never finding her. Yet a girl from the house of Yang was just coming of age. She had been raised in the women’s chambers and remained unknown to the outside world. Possessed of a natural elegance and grace, she had a spellbinding beauty. There came a day when she was selected to wait upon His Majesty. Her sweet smile warmed His cold and lonely heart. The ladies-in-waiting from the six palaces with their powdered empty faces couldn’t compare.
The poem describes the emperor’s instant and overwhelming enchantment with the beautiful, innocent girl from the Yang household. Her smile, her presence, overshadow all others in the palace. Their love affair consumes them entirely, leading the emperor to neglect his duties.
The velvet waters of the hot spring washed over her pale white skin. She was so delicate and fragile, palace maids needed to lift her from the water. The Emperor called upon her. Her face was like a blossom, golden jewelry adorning her jet black hair. They warmed themselves together during the spring nights in a hibiscus tent, lamenting that spring nights ended too soon, so they never rose with the sun, but stayed in bed.
The Morning Court continued, but His Majesty no longer attended. The girl spent all her time at the Emperor’s side, pleasing Him, feeding Him at banquets. During the entire spring she went wherever He did and slept beside Him every night. 3000 beauties lived in the inner palace But He loved this one girl more than all 3000. He was charmed just watching her, as she applied makeup in the Golden House before they began their evening. The wine and the springtime air intoxicated her after the Jade Mansion banquets.
All of her brothers and sisters were granted land. Their sudden wealth and rise in status made others envy her family’s fortune. It changed the plans of new parents everywhere. What good were boy babies when girl babies could do so much?
This idyllic (though historically problematic) portrayal of their love is shattered by the outbreak of war. The emperor takes his consort with him, but the soldiers, witnessing his distraction, demand her death to ensure victory and their own survival. The emperor is forced to comply, sacrificing his love for the good of the state.
Mount Li Palace was perched so high that its spires touched the azure clouds. The winds carried heavenly music, audible everywhere. The orchestra played slow songs as dancers moved perfectly in time. His Majesty could watch and listen all day long, and still need more. Then war drums from Yuyang broke the spell, shaking the earth. The Song of Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes came to an abrupt halt. The nine rings of walls and watchtowers surrounding the imperial palace, were swallowed by dust and smoke, as a thousand chariots and countless horsemen raced to the southwest.
Back and forth, stop and start, the jade ornaments rocked on the imperial banners of the Emperor’s chariot. They had traveled over one hundred li from the western gate of the capital. Now the Emperor’s six armies refused His command to march a step further. They gave him an ultimatum: her or them. The beautiful maiden He adored, her brows as lovely as a moth’s feathery feelers, died thrashing before the horses.
Lady Yang GuifeiT Chu (CC BY)
The poem vividly portrays the emperor’s grief and regret following her death. He leads his army to victory but returns to a palace filled with the haunting memories of their time together. Every detail, every object, reminds him of her, intensifying his sorrow.
Her ornate headdress fell to the ground and no one picked it up. Her kingfisher hair ornament, gold sparrow hairpin, and jade hair clasp, lay in the mud. His Majesty covered his face. He could not look. He could not save her. All He saw was a stream of tears and blood running along the ground.
A bleak and cold wind carried yellow dust. Wooden walkways wound high among the clouds through the pavilions of the pass at Mount Jian. Few traveled on the road beneath Mount Emei. The banners hung sadly on their poles. The sky was pitiless. The rivers of Shu were blue and the mountains of Shu were green. The Emperor thought of her night and day. In His second palace, He lifted a face filled with devastation to the moon. The wind chimes during an evening rain storm were the sound of his sorrow.
The rebellion defeated, the Emperor’s dragon chariot returned. And once He had come back, He couldn’t bring himself to leave. But in the dirt on the slopes of Mawei He did not see her face of jade, He only saw the lonely spot where she had died. The Emperor and His ministers cried so long they soaked their robes.
They pointed their horses to the east and let them walk at their own pace back to the capital. They returned to find the ponds and gardens the same as before. The lotus plants of the Taiye ponds and the willow trees of Weiyang Palace… Oh, but the lotus blossoms were her face and the willow branches were her delicate brows. Her face was everywhere. Tears filled His eyes again. Gone were the fresh spring days of the blooming peach and plum. Now it was autumn, when the leaves of the Wutong trees had fallen. The Western and Southern Palaces were overgrown with yellow grass and scattered red leaves collected on the steps. The hair of the performers in the Pear Garden Royal Opera had all turned white. The eunuchs and palace maids of Pepper Residence had suddenly aged.
He sat in silence in the evening palace, alone with His thoughts, only the fireflies for company. The single lamp burned itself out, and still He could not sleep. The bells rang and the drums beat as each watch began, marking the start of another long night. The Milky Way shined down brightly. Oh, how he longed for each dawn. The mandarin duck tiles were icy and the frost would not melt. The bed’s jadeite quilt had gone cold. As it should be. None could warm Him.
A year passed, a full year since the living had been divided from the dead. Her spirit did not appear in His dreams. A Daoist priest from Linqiong visitied the capital. He was so pious the dead would speak to him. Moved by His Majesty’s anguish, he agreed to look for her spirit in the afterlife for the Emperor. Up, into the sky he ran like a lightning bolt, racing high above the clouds. The priest climbed into the heavens and descended into the earth, seeking her spirit everywhere. Above, he left no spot unsearched, and below, as far as the Yellow Springs. But in neither vast region was any trace of her to be found.
In his desperation, the emperor sends a Taoist priest to seek Lady Yang in the afterlife. The priest searches across realms, finally locating her on a mystical island. However, she has transcended earthly desires, seeing the mortal world only as “mist and dust clouds.” This section introduces an element of the supernatural, adding another layer to the poem’s emotional complexity.
Yet what was this news of a mountain floating on the sea, filled with celestial spirits? When the priest approached, the floating peak was wreathed in haze. But a slender tower emerged, piercing the vibrant clouds. In this tower, he found a host of celestials filled with feminine grace. One stood out to him. She was called Tàizhēn, And her face was lovely and pale. Did not her snow-white face match the Emperor’s lost love? The priest approached the golden tower and knocked on the jade door of the western wing. He begged Xiǎoyù to bring a message to Shuāngchéng. She did so, for the priest was an emissary from the Han Emperor, the Son of Heaven.
Inside a resplendent tent, the girl awoke from her long dream. She pushed aside her pillow and reached for her robes. Then she paced, dazed, in the tent. Finally she found the pearl lace curtains and passed through the screens of silver. She came to the priest with her hair askew, for she had slept so long. Her headpiece too was crooked as she descended the steps to him. She raised her arms and a celestial wind fluttered the sleeves of her gown. It was a remembered move from her Dance of Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes. But her jade countenance was now crisscrossed with tears. Like a pear blossom wetted by the springtime rains.
Lady Yang sends the priest back with a message of enduring love and a broken golden hairpin and a piece of her lacquer box as tokens. These fragments symbolize their fragmented but still connected spirits. She recalls a secret vow they made on the seventh day of the seventh month, a reference to the myth of the celestial lovers Niu Lang and Zhi Nu, whose reunion is fleeting but destined. This literary device ties their personal tragedy into a broader cultural narrative of love and longing, a common element in many novels top 10 lists throughout history.
She fixed her stormy gaze on the priest and asked him to relay her thanks for her rescue to His Majesty. Yet in the time since they had parted, a distance had grown between them, and now she only felt a vague familiarity. The passion they had shared in the Hall of the Bright Sun had faded.
In the winter, the days and months in Penglai Palace are long. She looked down at the places mortals dwell. But she could not see Chang’an through the dust and mist. To show her gratitude, all she could do was offer old heirlooms and keepsakes as a sign of her deep affection. She honored the priest with her inlaid box and golden hairpin. But she kept one piece of the pin and one leaf of the box. Thus the parts of the pin and box would forever be separated.
She bid him tell His Majesty to remain as firm in his devotion to her as the gold and inlay work of her gifts. Some day they would meet again, whether in the heavens above or among the mortals on earth. She gave the priest one final message, a secret promise that only the two of them would know: “On the seventh day of the seventh Lunar month, in the Hall of Longevity, at midnight, when none are around, we will make our secret pact. In the heavens, we vow to be as two birds, flying wingtip to wingtip. On earth, we vow to be as two intertwined branches of a tree. Even heaven and earth will end some day. But the regret of our parting will never end.”
The poem concludes with the powerful lines: “Earth fades, Heaven fades, at the end of days. But Everlasting Sorrow endures always.” This final statement encapsulates the poem’s core message: that grief and regret, born of profound love and tragic loss, can be as enduring as the universe itself.
Bai Juyi’s Poetic Craft and the Poem’s Literary Significance
Bai Juyi’s approach to poetry differed significantly from his contemporaries like Li Po and Du Fu, who were celebrated for their intricate allusions and vivid, often complex, imagery. Bai Juyi consciously chose simplicity and accessibility, aiming for his work to be understood and enjoyed by everyone, from scholars to commoners. This democratic approach to poetry was revolutionary at the time and contributed greatly to the widespread popularity of The Song of Everlasting Sorrow. He believed poetry should reflect reality, even if heightened for artistic effect, but also prioritize clear emotional communication.
While Bai Juyi’s accessibility endeared him to the masses, it drew criticism from traditional Confucian scholars. They felt his work, particularly The Song of Everlasting Sorrow, was too simple and lacked the intellectual depth and moral instruction expected of high art. The poem’s romantic portrayal of the Emperor and Lady Yang, seemingly excusing or romanticizing their politically disastrous affair, contradicted the Confucian emphasis on duty and propriety. Critics argued that Bai Juyi distorted the historical reality of Lady Yang’s role in the downfall of the Tang Dynasty by presenting her as a tragic figure sacrificed for the nation’s good. The sensuality and focus on personal emotion were seen as inappropriate and a lowering of poetic standards for the sake of popular appeal. Despite this academic criticism, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. The poem became a bestseller, its fans connecting deeply with the universal themes of love, loss, and the poignant depiction of grief. It successfully transformed Lady Yang from a figure of historical blame into a symbol of tragic love and sacrifice.
The poem’s lasting impact is undeniable. The Song of Everlasting Sorrow resonated so strongly that it elevated Lady Yang to the status of one of The Four Beauties of China, legendary figures whose actions influenced the course of history. This list includes Xi Shi, Wang Zhaojun, and Diaochan (a fictional character), with Lady Yang (Yang Guifei) firmly placed among them, occasionally alongside Consort Yu. This inclusion highlights the poem’s power in shaping cultural perceptions and mythologizing historical figures, similar to how many historical events are fictionalized in the greatest fiction books of all time.
The theme of the beautiful woman whose fate is intertwined with national destiny, often involving sacrifice or destruction, is a recurring motif in Chinese literature. Bai Juyi’s rendition is a quintessential example that has inspired countless subsequent works. Perhaps the most famous example outside of China is Lady Murasaki Shikibu’s classic Japanese novel, The Tale of Genji (1008 CE), which is thought to have been influenced by Bai Juyi’s poem. This demonstrates the cross-cultural reach and enduring power of The Song of Everlasting Sorrow‘s themes.
In essence, The Song of Everlasting Sorrow is more than just a historical narrative in verse; it is a profound exploration of human emotion, the conflict between personal desire and public duty, and the enduring nature of grief. Bai Juyi’s accessible style ensured its wide readership, allowing its powerful message of love, sacrifice, and the hope for eventual reunion to resonate across time and place. It remains a testament to the ability of poetry to capture the depth of the human heart and transform historical events into timeless art. Understanding poems like this enriches one’s appreciation for literature and the diverse narratives found across cultures, including those found in collections like the ten greatest novels of all time.
The Complete Poem
Below is the complete poem by Bai Juyi, adapted by DW Draffin:
A certain Emperor of the Han dynasty loved love even more than life, and longed for a woman so beautiful that He could forget the court and all his duties. His empire could collapse and He wouldn’t care.
For years He ruled the empire, seeking her but never finding her. Yet a girl from the house of Yang was just coming of age. She had been raised in the women’s chambers and remained unknown to the outside world. Possessed of a natural elegance and grace, she had a spellbinding beauty. There came a day when she was selected to wait upon His Majesty. Her sweet smile warmed His cold and lonely heart. The ladies-in-waiting from the six palaces with their powdered empty faces couldn’t compare.
The velvet waters of the hot spring washed over her pale white skin. She was so delicate and fragile, palace maids needed to lift her from the water. The Emperor called upon her. Her face was like a blossom, golden jewelry adorning her jet black hair. They warmed themselves together during the spring nights in a hibiscus tent, lamenting that spring nights ended too soon, so they never rose with the sun, but stayed in bed.
The Morning Court continued, but His Majesty no longer attended. The girl spent all her time at the Emperor’s side, pleasing Him, feeding Him at banquets. During the entire spring she went wherever He did and slept beside Him every night. 3000 beauties lived in the inner palace But He loved this one girl more than all 3000. He was charmed just watching her, as she applied makeup in the Golden House before they began their evening. The wine and the springtime air intoxicated her after the Jade Mansion banquets.
All of her brothers and sisters were granted land. Their sudden wealth and rise in status made others envy her family’s fortune. It changed the plans of new parents everywhere. What good were boy babies when girl babies could do so much?
Mount Li Palace was perched so high that its spires touched the azure clouds. The winds carried heavenly music, audible everywhere. The orchestra played slow songs as dancers moved perfectly in time. His Majesty could watch and listen all day long, and still need more. Then war drums from Yuyang broke the spell, shaking the earth. The Song of Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes came to an abrupt halt. The nine rings of walls and watchtowers surrounding the imperial palace, were swallowed by dust and smoke, as a thousand chariots and countless horsemen raced to the southwest.
Back and forth, stop and start, the jade ornaments rocked on the imperial banners of the Emperor’s chariot. They had traveled over one hundred li from the western gate of the capital. Now the Emperor’s six armies refused His command to march a step further. They gave him an ultimatum: her or them. The beautiful maiden He adored, her brows as lovely as a moth’s feathery feelers, died thrashing before the horses.
Her ornate headdress fell to the ground and no one picked it up. Her kingfisher hair ornament, gold sparrow hairpin, and jade hair clasp, lay in the mud. His Majesty covered his face. He could not look. He could not save her. All He saw was a stream of tears and blood running along the ground.
A bleak and cold wind carried yellow dust. Wooden walkways wound high among the clouds through the pavilions of the pass at Mount Jian. Few traveled on the road beneath Mount Emei. The banners hung sadly on their poles. The sky was pitiless. The rivers of Shu were blue and the mountains of Shu were green. The Emperor thought of her night and day. In His second palace, He lifted a face filled with devastation to the moon. The wind chimes during an evening rain storm were the sound of his sorrow.
The rebellion defeated, the Emperor’s dragon chariot returned. And once He had come back, He couldn’t bring himself to leave. But in the dirt on the slopes of Mawei He did not see her face of jade, He only saw the lonely spot where she had died. The Emperor and His ministers cried so long they soaked their robes.
They pointed their horses to the east and let them walk at their own pace back to the capital. They returned to find the ponds and gardens the same as before. The lotus plants of the Taiye ponds and the willow trees of Weiyang Palace… Oh, but the lotus blossoms were her face and the willow branches were her delicate brows. Her face was everywhere. Tears filled His eyes again. Gone were the fresh spring days of the blooming peach and plum. Now it was autumn, when the leaves of the Wutong trees had fallen. The Western and Southern Palaces were overgrown with yellow grass and scattered red leaves collected on the steps. The hair of the performers in the Pear Garden Royal Opera had all turned white. The eunuchs and palace maids of Pepper Residence had suddenly aged.
He sat in silence in the evening palace, alone with His thoughts, only the fireflies for company. The single lamp burned itself out, and still He could not sleep. The bells rang and the drums beat as each watch began, marking the start of another long night. The Milky Way shined down brightly. Oh, how he longed for each dawn. The mandarin duck tiles were icy and the frost would not melt. The bed’s jadeite quilt had gone cold. As it should be. None could warm Him.
A year passed, a full year since the living had been divided from the dead. Her spirit did not appear in His dreams. A Daoist priest from Linqiong visitied the capital. He was so pious the dead would speak to him. Moved by His Majesty’s anguish, he agreed to look for her spirit in the afterlife for the Emperor. Up, into the sky he ran like a lightning bolt, racing high above the clouds. The priest climbed into the heavens and descended into the earth, seeking her spirit everywhere. Above, he left no spot unsearched, and below, as far as the Yellow Springs. But in neither vast region was any trace of her to be found.
Yet what was this news of a mountain floating on the sea, filled with celestial spirits? When the priest approached, the floating peak was wreathed in haze. But a slender tower emerged, piercing the vibrant clouds. In this tower, he found a host of celestials filled with feminine grace. One stood out to him. She was called Tàizhēn, And her face was lovely and pale. Did not her snow-white face match the Emperor’s lost love? The priest approached the golden tower and knocked on the jade door of the western wing. He begged Xiǎoyù to bring a message to Shuāngchéng. She did so, for the priest was an emissary from the Han Emperor, the Son of Heaven.
Inside a resplendent tent, the girl awoke from her long dream. She pushed aside her pillow and reached for her robes. Then she paced, dazed, in the tent. Finally she found the pearl lace curtains and passed through the screens of silver. She came to the priest with her hair askew, for she had slept so long. Her headpiece too was crooked as she descended the steps to him. She raised her arms and a celestial wind fluttered the sleeves of her gown. It was a remembered move from her Dance of Rainbow Skirts and Feather Robes. But her jade countenance was now crisscrossed with tears. Like a pear blossom wetted by the springtime rains.
She fixed her stormy gaze on the priest and asked him to relay her thanks for her rescue to His Majesty. Yet in the time since they had parted, a distance had grown between them, and now she only felt a vague familiarity. The passion they had shared in the Hall of the Bright Sun had faded.
In the winter, the days and months in Penglai Palace are long. She looked down at the places mortals dwell. But she could not see Chang’an through the dust and mist. To show her gratitude, all she could do was offer old heirlooms and keepsakes as a sign of her deep affection. She honored the priest with her inlaid box and golden hairpin. But she kept one piece of the pin and one leaf of the box. Thus the parts of the pin and box would forever be separated.
She bid him tell His Majesty to remain as firm in his devotion to her as the gold and inlay work of her gifts. Some day they would meet again, whether in the heavens above or among the mortals on earth. She gave the priest one final message, a secret promise that only the two of them would know: “On the seventh day of the seventh Lunar month, in the Hall of Longevity, at midnight, when none are around, we will make our secret pact. In the heavens, we vow to be as two birds, flying wingtip to wingtip. On earth, we vow to be as two intertwined branches of a tree. Even heaven and earth will end some day. But the regret of our parting will never end.”
The Enduring Poetic Value
The Song of Everlasting Sorrow stands as a powerful example of narrative poetry’s ability to blend historical context, human emotion, and mythical elements into a compelling whole. Bai Juyi’s deliberate choice of accessible language and vivid imagery ensured that the tragic story of the emperor and Lady Yang resonated deeply with a broad audience, securing the poem’s status as a beloved classic. Its enduring themes of passionate love, devastating loss, and the profound sorrow that lingers long after parting continue to speak to readers, highlighting the timeless power of poetry to capture the deepest human experiences. Analyzing such works provides valuable insight into the evolution of literary expression across cultures and centuries, influencing narratives that are still being explored in fields like what is the greatest piece of fiction. The poem reminds us that while empires rise and fall, the song of the human heart, with its capacity for both intense joy and profound regret, endures always.