Monday, May 04, 2020

THE PASSING DUST

When I woke up this morning it was with a poem by Wang Wei (王維) in my head about dust. Shortly afterwards I was out on the front steps with a short cigarillo, and then the street sweeping vehicle went past. We're in California, so these things don't use water anymore ..... Yeah, all thoughts of classic poetry went by the wayside.

The skeevy dude checking doorways up and down the block also fled.

I continued enjoying my smoke.


渭城曲 Wei City Tune
送元二使安西 Seeing Yuen Yi off to On Sai.

渭城朝雨浥輕塵,
客舍青青柳色新。
勸君更盡一杯酒,
西出陽關無故人。

王維(西元701年~西元761年),字摩詰。 Wang Wei, born 701, passed away 761 C.E., styled Mo Jie ('mo kit').

"The spring rain at Wei City dampens down the swirling dust, at the roadside pavilion the willows show fresh green buds; I urge you to down another glass, once you are beyond the Yang Gate there will be none of your old friends."

Wei City is now enclosed by Xinsheng Qu (新城區 'san seng keui'), one of the districts of Xian (西安 'sai on') in Shaanxi (陝西 'sim sai'), which was named Chang An (長安 'cheung on') during Tang times.

The Yang Pass (Yang Guan 陽關 'yeung gwaan') is far to the West of ChangAn, and traditionally was one of the gates of exile through which despairing soldiers and officials trekked to deal with the frightful barbarians (Turks, Mongols, Tibetans) in the inhospitable wastelands and represent civilization and the empire at the very edges of the world. For some of them, the command to head to the Yang Guan was, indeed, a death sentence.
Now we know that Russia and Persian Turkestan are only a little bit bit beyond that (actually a few thousand miles). Which isn't any better, and doesn't help at all. Do they even wash there?

So then. At one point, one of Wang Wei's friends has received orders to head out into the howling wilderness, possibly because he pissed off an important official. Before he leaves them, likely forever, his friends have a final drink with him at a rustic wine shop. Wei City has never looked more beautiful; fresh rain, green spring shoots, the willows ......


When I memorized this quatrain years ago I worked with some thoroughly unlikable people at a computer company down on Army Street.
I do not miss those days.




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