Self-Admonition by Luo Yin

zi qian · luo yin
If aught is gained, then sing; if lost, then let it lie.
Too much of grief and grudge will in the long run die.

If there is drink today, be drunken while you may;
And if tomorrow brings its care,
Then tomorrow is the day for care.

Original Poem

「自谴」
得即高歌失即休,多愁多恨亦悠悠。
今朝有酒今朝醉,明日愁来明日愁。

罗隐

Interpretation

This poem is a work of self-consolation by the late Tang poet Luo Yin, written during a period of repeated examination failures and career stagnation. Renowned for his literary talent, Luo Yin, due to his humble origins and inability to curry favor, "failed the imperial examinations ten times," remaining trapped in the examination halls for decades, his heart filled with pent-up frustration. The late Tang court was corrupt, with eunuchs monopolizing power and regional warlords asserting independence, leaving scholars with no avenue to serve their country. Talented individuals often languished in obscurity, some never finding recognition in their lifetime.

The title suggests self-consolation and resignation. With a seemingly carefree demeanor of "singing when winning, letting go when losing," the poet conceals profound inner anguish. The indulgent declaration, "If there's wine today, get drunk today," serves to dissipate his despair and resentment toward reality. Yet, behind this word "drunk" lies sober pain; within this word "let go" resides a struggle born of helplessness. The image of the "uninhibited scholar who sings wildly, drinks freely, and disregards worldly affairs" crafted by Luo Yin is both a portrayal of his personal fate and a collective epitome of countless disheartened scholars in the late Tang—they had not truly seen through the vanity of the world; rather, after seeing through it, they chose a stance of "silent non-cooperation," preserving a final shred of dignity within their passivity.

First Couplet: "得即高歌失即休,多愁多恨亦悠悠。"
Dé jí gāogē shī jí xiū, duō chóu duō hèn yì yōuyōu.
When fortune smiles, I'll sing with glee;
When it is gone, then let it be.
Though weighed with sorrow and regret,
I take them lightly, free and easy.

The poem opens with carefree words, sketching a transcendent attitude toward life. "得即高歌" (singing when winning) represents the unrestrained release in moments of triumph, the joyful side of life; "失即休" (letting go when losing) is the nonchalant release in moments of defeat, refusing to be shackled by gain and loss. Between this "gain" and "loss," the poet appears to have seen through life's vicissitudes, rising above honor and disgrace. The next line, "多愁多恨亦悠悠" (I take them lightly, free and easy), goes further: even amidst countless sorrows and regrets, he dismisses them lightly with the phrase "悠悠" (yōuyōu, carefree, at ease). Within this "carefree" lies both the penetrating insight of one who understands the world and the self-mockery of helplessness. Yet, upon closer reflection, the more lightly this carefree attitude is portrayed, the more startling the heaviness behind it becomes—for this "letting go" and "taking lightly" are not true detachment, but rather a forced resignation; not genuine broad-mindedness, but self-numbing born of despair.

Final Couplet: "今朝有酒今朝醉,明日愁来明日愁。"
Jīnzhāo yǒu jiǔ jīnzhāo zuì, míngrì chóu lái míngrì chóu.
If wine is mine today, today I'll get drunk;
Let tomorrow's sorrow come when it is due!

This couplet contains a line celebrated through the ages, pushing the poet's "carefreeness" to its extreme. "今朝有酒今朝醉" (If wine is mine today, today I'll get drunk) is the ultimate carpe diem—regardless of tomorrow, seize only the pleasure of the present moment. "明日愁来明日愁" (Let tomorrow's sorrow come when it is due) is the ultimate in procrastination—not mortgaging today's happiness for troubles yet to come. Superficially, this appears a decadent posture of wild abandon and disregard for the future. Yet, behind this word "drunk" lies the poet's utter despair for the future—precisely because tomorrow holds no hope of change, he dares to say "let tomorrow's sorrow come"; precisely because the road ahead offers no expectations, he stakes his entire being on this one drunken "today." This is not a love for life, but an abandonment of it; this is not broad-mindedness, but self-exile after reaching the pinnacle of despair.

Holistic Appreciation

This is a representative work among Luo Yin's poems of self-consolation. In just four lines and twenty-eight characters, using self-consolation as the entry point, it merges apparent carefreeness with profound sorrow, indulgence with sober awareness, revealing the poet's complex and contradictory state of mind after repeated setbacks.

Structurally, the poem presents a soliloquy that progresses from the surface to the core, layer by layer. The first couplet begins with "When fortune smiles, I'll sing with glee; / When it is gone, then let it be," crafting a transcendent image, and reinforces this carefree posture with "I take them lightly, free and easy." The final couplet pushes indulgence to its extreme with "If wine is mine today, today I'll get drunk" and concludes with "Let tomorrow's sorrow come when it is due," completely exposing the undercurrent of despair beneath the facade of carefreeness. The four lines seem to repeat the same lament, but in reality, they deepen progressively, moving from the external to the internal, from the surface to the core, weaving the surface nonchalance with the inner anguish into a poignant aria.

Thematically, the poem's core lies in the contradiction between "醉" (drunkenness) and "醒" (sobriety). The poet adopts a "drunken" posture—singing loudly, drinking freely, seizing the day—as if he has seen through worldly affairs and transcended them. Yet, this "drunkenness" is permeated with the pain of "sobriety"—that carefree "letting go" stems from knowing change is impossible; that permissive "let tomorrow's sorrow come" stems from holding no hope for tomorrow. This technique of "expressing sobriety through drunkenness, conveying profound sorrow through apparent carefreeness" is precisely the poem's most profound aspect. The poet is not truly carefree; he uses carefreeness to cloak his despair. He is not truly indulgent; he uses indulgence to mask his sober awareness.

Artistically, the poem's most moving feature is the use of a "repetitive yet varied" technique. All four lines relate to "gain and loss," "sorrow and regret," "wine and drunkenness," yet each line differs in meaning, progressing layer by layer. The first line states the attitude toward gain and loss, the second the attitude toward sorrow and regret, the third the attitude toward the present, and the fourth the attitude toward the future. This structure of layered repetition imbues simple emotions with complex aesthetic tension, allowing the reader to feel the undulation and deepening of the poet's inner turmoil within the seemingly repetitive lament.

Artistic Merits

  • Conveying Sorrow Through Apparent Carefreeness, a Stark Contrast Between Surface and Depth: The surface presents the image of an uninhibited, unconventional scholar; the reality conceals deep despair and indignation. The more carefree it appears, the more sorrowful it truly is.
  • Layered Repetition, Progressive Deepening: All four lines chant the same theme, yet each differs in meaning. Moving from the external to the internal, from the shallow to the deep, it lends complex tension to simple emotions.
  • Concise Language, Lingering Resonance: The poem uses no obscure words, yet each carries immense weight. The seven characters "今朝有酒今朝醉" (If wine is mine today, today I'll get drunk) express the heartfelt sentiment of the disheartened throughout the ages.
  • Expressing Helplessness Through Paradox, Conveying Despair Through Indulgence: "When it is gone, then let it be" and "let tomorrow's sorrow come" are both paradoxical statements. The more carefree they seem, the more desolate they are.

Insights

With its seemingly carefree posture, this poem speaks to an eternal theme: When ideals and reality cannot be reconciled, when calls go unanswered, silence and indulgence may also be a form of silent protest.

It first allows us to see the "facade of carefreeness." Those who seem to have seen through the vanity of the world and transcended it often hide the deepest pain. Luo Yin's "If wine is mine today, today I'll get drunk" is not a love for life, but despair toward it; it is not broad-mindedness, but self-exile after being powerless to change. It reminds us: do not be easily deceived by others' apparent "carefreeness"; behind that smile may lie a heart riddled with scars.

On a deeper level, this poem prompts us to contemplate "dignity within despair." The poet cannot change reality, fulfill his ideals, or obtain justice, yet he does not kneel and beg, nor does he grovel and plead. Instead, he chooses a posture of "silent non-cooperation"—I cannot change you, but I can ignore you; I cannot have what I want, but I can do without. This "perseverance within passivity" is the final dignity of the despairing.

And most moving is the poem's sense of "sober pain." The poet knows he is numbing himself, knows he is using "drunkenness" to escape "sobriety." But he does not deceive himself by calling this drunkenness happiness, nor does he pretend to be truly detached. He merely writes these twenty-eight characters calmly, allowing us, a thousand years later, to still hear that sigh traversing time and space.

This poem writes of a disheartened scholar in the late Tang, yet it allows everyone who has hit a wall in reality or stumbled before their ideals to find resonance within it. That carefreeness of "singing when winning, letting go when losing" is the mantra every disheartened person uses to convince themselves; that indulgence of "If wine is mine today, today I'll get drunk" is the final revelry of every despairing soul; that permissiveness of "let tomorrow's sorrow come" is the cruelest comfort those who see no future whisper to themselves. This is the vitality of poetry: it writes of a poet's self-consolation, but it speaks across all eras to hearts that are clear-eyed and aching.

About the poet

Luo Yin

Luo Yin (罗隐 833 - 910), a native of Fuyang, Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province, was a renowned writer and thinker of the late Tang Dynasty. As a key literary figure of the late Tang period, Luo Yin was unparalleled in his time for his satirical poetry and prose. His poems often directly targeted social darkness, employing sharp and accessible language that cut straight to the heart of late Tang political corruption. With nearly 500 surviving poems, he was known alongside Du Xunhe and Luo Ye as one of the "Three Luos" in the late Tang poetic circle, standing out as a unique and powerful voice amidst the ornate and decadent trends of the era.

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Luo Yin
Luo Yin

Luo Yin

Luo Yin (罗隐 833 - 910), a native of Fuyang, Hangzhou, Zhejiang Province, was a

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