The Tang Dynasty (618-907 AD) is often hailed as the golden age of Chinese poetry, a period when poets like Li Bai and Cui Hao reached unparalleled heights of artistic expression. Among their most celebrated works are poems inspired by iconic towers and the legends surrounding them. Two such poems, “Ascending the Phoenix Terrace in Jinling” by Li Bai and “Yellow Crane Tower” by Cui Hao, stand as masterpieces that capture the poets’ reflections on history, myth, and the human condition amidst changing landscapes. Though seemingly similar in subject matter – visiting a famed tower – these poems reveal distinct perspectives and concerns, offering a window into the poets’ minds and the rich tapestry of Tang-era thought.
Contents
Li Bai: Ascending the Phoenix Terrace in Jinling
Li Bai, renowned for his romantic and often fantastical verse, visits the Phoenix Terrace in Jinling (modern-day Nanjing). The legend associated with the terrace speaks of phoenixes gracing the spot, a symbol of prosperity and auspicious times. Li Bai confronts the absence of this mythical presence, reflecting on the passage of time and the fall of dynasties.
Here phoenix roamed four hundred years ago,
A sign of the enchantment that once thrived;
How empty now, where no more feathers flow,
A lonely river is all that’s survived.
Lush garden of the grand Wu Palace grounds
Is buried there beneath some nameless brush;
Where is the Jin court’s grace? There’s just those mounds
Of ancient ruins Time saw fit to crush.
The Three Mountains disappear in sky,
They rise, aloof, azure, whence egrets dive
To a lone river island, safe and dry;
Two Yangtze streams along it course and strive.
My daydream drifts to Chang’an, so far from here:
The Emperor whose fate is still unclear;
I’ve heard dark clouds obscure his brilliant sky;
I wish that to his aid a phoenix would fly.
Original Chinese
登金陵鳳凰台
李白
鳳凰台上鳳凰遊，鳳去台空江自流。
吳宮花草埋幽徑，晉代衣冠成故丘。
三山半落青天外，一水中分白鷺洲。
總為浮雲能蔽日，長安不見使人愁。
Li Bai opens with the stark contrast between the legendary past (“phoenix roamed four hundred years ago”) and the desolate present (“How empty now… A lonely river”). The absence of the phoenix symbolizes the loss of the vibrant prosperity it represented. He then turns to more tangible historical ruins – the buried gardens of the Wu Palace and the vanished splendor of the Jin court, now mere “mounds of ancient ruins.” This reinforces the theme of impermanence; even mighty empires crumble into dust. The scene then shifts to the natural world – the distant Three Mountains, the egrets, and the two streams of the Yangtze divided by White Egret Isle. These elements are constant, enduring beyond human transient creations. However, the final stanza takes a significant turn, moving from historical and natural observation to personal and political concern. Li Bai’s thoughts drift to Chang’an, the capital, and his worry for the Emperor, whose “brilliant sky” is obscured by “dark clouds” – a clear political metaphor for impending trouble or ill influence. His concluding wish for a phoenix to fly to the Emperor’s aid links the opening mythical image to his contemporary political anxieties, revealing a depth of concern beyond mere historical reflection. The poem masterfully blends historical lament, natural imagery, and personal political worry.
Ancient painting of Chinese poet Li Bai in traditional robes, looking towards a distant landscape
An ancient painting of Chinese poet Li Bai.
Cui Hao: Yellow Crane Tower
Cui Hao’s “Yellow Crane Tower,” located in Wuchang (modern-day Wuhan), is perhaps even more famous in China than Li Bai’s poem about the Phoenix Terrace, partly due to a legend that Li Bai himself felt he could not surpass Cui Hao’s work on the same theme. The tower is associated with a Taoist immortal who departed on a yellow crane.
A Taoist immortal once left from this place,
While riding the back of a bright yellow crane.
As light as the air, his steps left not a trace;
Just Yellow Crane Tower was left to remain.
The yellow crane gone now has never returned;
A thousand years flown by without any wings.
How listlessly clouds for its company yearned—
A gift that is hoped for, yet sky never brings.
The sunshine illumines all the trees to the north
And lights up the River Han’s crystalline face.
From verdant grass, fragrance so sweetly pours forth
As parrots on river-bound isles squeeze for space.
Late shadows below stretch out long, scale the tower;
I’ve no yellow crane I can mount at this hour;
My home? which direction? O, I do not know,
O, misty long river, I’ve so far to go!
Original Chinese
黃鶴樓
崔顥
昔人已乘黃鶴去，此地空餘黃鶴樓。
黃鶴一去不復返，白雲千載空悠悠。
晴川歷歷漢陽樹，芳草萋萋鸚鵡洲。
日暮鄉關何處是，煙波江上使人愁。
Cui Hao begins directly with the legend of the immortal and the yellow crane, establishing the mythical origin of the place name. Like Li Bai, he immediately contrasts this legend with the present reality: the immortal and the crane are gone, leaving only the empty tower. The second stanza emphasizes the finality of this departure – the crane “has never returned,” and “a thousand years flown by without any wings.” The clouds yearning for the crane symbolize the enduring, yet unfulfilled, expectation for the return of the wondrous past. The middle stanzas shift to a vibrant, almost photographic depiction of the surrounding landscape: the sunlit trees across the river, the gleaming Han River itself, fragrant grass, and the egrets (translated here as parrots, though白鷺洲 ‘White Egret Isle’ is the more common interpretation, similar to Li Bai’s poem). This vivid imagery of the present moment provides a counterpoint to the melancholy of the vanished past. However, the final stanza brings the focus back to the personal. As evening falls (“Late shadows below stretch out long”), the poet feels his own limitation (“I’ve no yellow crane I can mount”). The concluding lines express a deep, personal homesickness and uncertainty about his direction in life, looking out at the vast, misty river. Cui Hao’s poem moves from collective myth and present scenery to an intensely personal lament for lost connection and direction.
Anonymous painting depicting Yellow Crane Tower in a misty landscape
“Yellow Crane Tower” by anonymous, circa Ming Dynasty.
Comparative Reflections
Both Li Bai and Cui Hao visit historically significant tower sites associated with myth and departure. Both begin by acknowledging the legends and contrasting them with the present emptiness of the site. Both then incorporate descriptions of the natural landscape surrounding the tower in their middle stanzas. Finally, both conclude with a personal expression of sorrow or concern.
However, their concluding sentiments diverge significantly. Li Bai’s concern is outwardly directed towards the political fate of the Emperor and the state, wishing for a return of auspiciousness to the capital. Cui Hao’s sorrow is intensely personal – a feeling of being lost and far from home, without the means to return or a clear path forward. This difference reflects the broader styles and personalities often associated with the two poets: Li Bai, the romantic and sometimes politically ambitious figure concerned with the grand affairs of the world; Cui Hao, presenting a more grounded, albeit melancholic, personal human experience.
These two poems, paired together, beautifully illustrate the Tang poets’ ability to weave together history, myth, nature, and personal emotion into concise yet profound works that continue to resonate centuries later. They capture the essence of visiting a place steeped in legend, feeling the weight of history, observing the enduring natural world, and ultimately turning inwards to confront one’s own place in the vast, flowing river of time.
Translations by Evan Mantyk and Chunlin Li.