Appreciation of a Fine Phrase | “Tang Xianzu’s ‘The Peony Pavilion’: ‘By day, the heart‑rending lines are worn away; in this world, only love is hard to put into words.’”

 

Only by transcending suffering, passing through life and death, and enduring all the vicissitudes of worldly love amidst parting and sorrow, can one’s tale endure through the ages as an immortal legend.
 

Love arises without knowing its origin, yet it grows deep and unwavering.

Suddenly realizing that my longing remains hidden,

It turns out it had already taken root in my bones.

Once the vibrant hues of purple and red bloomed in profusion, yet now all is left to crumbling wells and dilapidated walls. What can be done with such fine days and beautiful scenes? Who, pray tell, still finds joy in life’s pleasures? At dawn they flutter, at dusk they gather—clouds and rosy mists grace the emerald pavilion; rain threads and gusts of wind brush by; misty waves cradle painted boats. How scornfully the maiden behind the brocade screen esteems this fleeting springtime!

Whether short or long, all dreams are but dreams,

Year after year, what year is it?
 

Then, for you, it is like a blossoming beloved, a fleeting stream of time.

It is that the idle one has searched everywhere, and in the secluded boudoir, pities herself.
 

By chance, my heart is entwined; by the plum tree’s side, such flowers and grasses are loved by men, yet life and death alike stir their resentment—so desolate and forlorn, with no one to remember. Yet when, at last, I gather their fragrant souls into one, I shall guard them through the dreary, rain‑soaked plum‑season days.



People grow old easily, affairs often interfere, and dreams are hard to sustain. A trace of deep affection, three parts of shallow earth, and half a wall bathed in the slanting sunset.

Three parts of springtime are easy to paint,

A sorrowful scene is hard to paint.
 

Ruthless and endless, yet full of affection,

When love runs out, is there anything left?

At the end of boundless affection,

At midmonth, there is no tree shadow and no ripple.
 

The affairs of the mortal world cannot be fully comprehended by mortals.