Protracted rain comes to an end;
the stream begins to clear.
Push away, push away!
I put my fishing pole on my shoulder; excitement grips me deep.
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
Who painted
these layered mountain peaks in the mist tinted river?
Wrap my rice in lotus leaves;
don't bother preparing side dishes.
Weigh anchor, weigh anchor!
I have my bamboo rain-hat on; what did I do with my sedge rain-cape?
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
White gull,
so very impassive, are you following me or am I following you?
Wind rises in the pond weed;
it's cool at the rush-awning window.
Hoist the sail, hoist the sail!
Are summer winds steady? Let the boat drift where it will.
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
North bank,
south river; it's all the same to me.
The muddy water reference is to the song that concludes "The Fisherman", ascribed to Qu Yuan:
When the Canglang's waters are clear,
I can wash my hat strings in them;
when the Canglang's waters are muddy,
I can wash my feet in them.
The admonition is to seek official preferment when times are good, and to retire gracefully when times are bad. The middle section refers to Fu Cha of Wu who was so angry at the suicide of his servant Wu Yuan that he had the body put in a sack and thrown into the Wu river. The final section refers to Qu Yuan again. A minister in the kingdom of Chu, he was banished for objecting to official policy. Distressed, he committed suicide. The idea here is that the poet might catch Qu Yuan's soul in a fish. The poem is a meditation on loyalty.
So what if I wash my feet
in muddy water?
Row the boat, row the boat!
I would go to the river Wu; how sad the stormy waves of a thousand years.
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
I would go
to the river Chu, but I might catch a fish with a human soul.
The inference here is that one should give the best fishing place to an old man just as the people of Lei gave Emperor Shun the best place in ancient times.
In the thick shade of the willow grove,
a mossy spot catches my eye.
Row the boat, row the boat!
When I reach the bridge, I'll assign no blame in the fishermen's wrangling.
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
If I meet
the crane-haired old man, I'll follow the example of Lei Lake.
Excitement grips me deep;
I had no idea day was fading fast.
Lower the sail, lower the sail!
Beating time on the mast, I sing boat songs.
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
Who knows
the old world graces embedded in these songs?
The first section appears to be a loose translation of a poem by the Tang poet Li Shangyin (812-858).
The evening sun is grand,
but twilight is close at hand.
Heave to, heave to!
The path that winds across the cliff slopes down beneath the pines.
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
The song of the oriole
studs the green grove.
The mosquitoes are small minded men who seek only personal gain, while the blowflies are even more despicable types who ruin a man by slander. The final comment would seem to be tongue in cheek while the poet battles with the various insects that trouble him. Sang Hongyang of Han was a wily economics expert who made a large personal fortune while working for his country.
I'll spread my nets on the sand,
lie down under the rush-awning and rest.
Tie up, tie up!
The mosquitoes are a pest; are the blowflies any better?
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
My only fear
is that the wily rogue of Han, Sang Hongyang, may be listening in.
The middle section quotes a phrase from the Tang poet Wei Yingwu (737-ca.792): crossing - fields - crosswise - boat. However, the sense of the phrase seems to be a boat tied to the ferry landing strangely defying the current by sitting crosswise in the water. The final section also incor¬porates a phrase from the same Wei Yingwu poem: river - edge - hidden - plant/grass.
Who can tell how wind and waves will change
in the course of the night?
Drop anchor, drop anchor!
Who was it said the boat tied at the ferry cuts across the current?
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
The hidden
plants by the river's edge are truly lovely.
I look up at my snail-shell hut;
white clouds are all around.
Beach the boat, beach the boat!
I climb the stony path, bulrush fan sideways in my hand.
Chigukch'ong, chigukch'ong, ŏsawa!
You ask
if a fisherman's life is leisurely; well, this is what I do.