The Sacred Field awaits the Emperor's ride,
While I'm stranded in Changsha—years slip by.
No chance to counsel at the Palace side,
Where in the South can my writings fly?
Original Poem
「闻籍田有感」
柳宗元
天田不日降皇舆，留滞长沙岁又除。
宣室无由问釐事，周南何处托成书。
Interpretation
This poem was composed in the winter of the fifth year of Emperor Xianzong's Yuanhe era (810 AD). At that time, the imperial court issued an edict announcing the ceremonial plowing rite (jitian) to be held the following spring (the sixth year of Yuanhe). Jitian, the rite of the Son of Heaven personally plowing the fields, was an extremely solemn and significant ritual in ancient dynasties, symbolizing the emperor's closeness to the people and encouragement of agriculture, thereby rectifying the foundation of the state. Liu Zongyuan was then in exile in Yongzhou. Having once served as a Vice Director in the Ministry of Rites, he was well-versed in ceremonial regulations. Conscious of his talent, learning, and past contributions, he was frustrated by his exclusion from political affairs due to his banishment.
This poem expresses his pent-up emotions. By invoking two historical allusions—Jia Yi and Sima Tan—Liu reflects on their misfortunes and likens himself to them, revealing his loyalty to the state, his yearning to achieve greatness, and his indignation at being cast aside in a remote land with no means to voice his counsel.
First Couplet: "天田不日降皇舆，留滞长沙岁又除。"
Tiāntián bù rì jiàng huáng yú, liúzhì Chángshā suì yòu chú.
The Son of Heaven will soon descend to the sacred field, yet I remain stranded in distant Changsha, another year wasted.
"Tiantian" refers to the jitian rite, and "huangyu" denotes the emperor's procession. This couplet directly addresses the impending grand state ceremony while the poet remains in exile, unable to participate. A surge of sorrow and regret pours forth from the very first line.
Second Couplet: "宣室无由问釐事，周南何处托成书。"
Xuānshì wú yóu wèn lí shì, Zhōunán hé chù tuō chéng shū.
Like Jia Yi, who could not enter the Xuan Room to advise the emperor, I am like Sima Tan, stranded in Zhou'nan with nowhere to entrust my writings.
This couplet employs two allusions. The first line references Jia Yi, who, despite his exceptional talent, was banished to Changsha and temporarily barred from political affairs. The second line borrows from the story of Sima Tan, who, on his deathbed, entrusted his unfinished work to his son Sima Qian. Here, Liu expresses his own frustration at having no one to "entrust his writings" to, voicing his stifled ambitions.
Though brief, the poem weaves together two profound historical allusions, blending emotion and reason. Liu Zongyuan uses the past to critique the present, comparing himself to Jia Yi in hopes of being recalled to service and to Sima Tan in longing to convey his thoughts and writings. The poem carries both the sorrow of unfulfilled aspirations and the determination not to succumb to despair, making it one of the most emotionally rich and allusively refined short poems.
Holistic Appreciation
This four-line poem, though brief, carries profound historical weight and searing contemporary critique through its refined and compact language. The opening couplet addresses current affairs, while the second alludes to classical precedents—ostensibly lamenting exclusion from an imminent state ceremony, but fundamentally delivering a fierce indictment of political apathy and the expulsion of talent.
The poem's structure is meticulously parallel, its emotion flowing uninterrupted. Its tone appears measured, yet every word harbors sorrow. The line "No way to ask of rites in the Xuan Chamber" references historical figures who were similarly marginalized, expressing Liu's anguish at being barred from policy counsel—a dual lament for personal thwarted ambition and national concerns, blending idealism with critical realism.
Even more striking is "Where in Zhou's south to entrust my completed work?"—a phrase charged with Liu Zongyuan's desperate longing: though barred from the ceremony, he hopes someone might convey his ceremonial writings and loyal intentions to the throne. Yet "nowhere to entrust" plunges him into deeper isolation and helplessness.
Artistic Merits
- Historical Parallels for Contemporary Struggles
The poem draws parallels between Liu's exile and figures from antiquity who faced similar marginalization, merging past and present with seamless precision. - Brevity With Profound Depth
Four lines encapsulate immediate reality and timeless reflection, showcasing Liu's mastery of concise yet multilayered expression. - Grief Without Self-Pity, Fury Within Restraint
Though exiled, Liu voices no personal complaint, instead upholding a scholar's duty to national concerns—revealing intellectual dignity and moral backbone. - Dual Meanings Intertwined
Geographic references like "Changsha" and "Zhou's south" simultaneously denote physical locations and symbolize intellectual banishment; "entrusting writings" refers to both physical texts and the stifling of dissent.
Insights
This poem demonstrates how a scholar, even in exile, can remain tethered to statecraft. Liu's response to imperial exclusion is not resentment but a loyal cry to serve—refusing silence or surrender, using poetry and historical parallels as transcendent weapons of cultural responsibility.
It teaches that vision and capability, though suppressed, can wield culture and history as arms, with the pen as sword to pierce through oppression. True nobility lies not in position but in unshaken conviction—the refusal to betray one's essence regardless of circumstance.
About the Poet
Liu Zongyuan (柳宗元, 773 - 819), a native of Yuncheng in Shanxi province, was a pioneering advocate of the Classical Prose Movement during China's Tang Dynasty. Awarded the prestigious jinshi degree in 793 during the Zhenyuan era, this distinguished scholar-official revolutionized Chinese literature with his groundbreaking essays. His prose works, remarkable for their incisive vigor and crystalline purity, established the canonical model for landscape travel writing that would influence generations. As a poet, Liu mastered a distinctive style of luminous clarity and solitary grandeur, securing his place among the legendary "Eight Great Masters of Tang-Song Prose" - an honor reflecting his enduring impact on Chinese literary history.
