"The sky is full of flowers as they fly and wither", this sentence comes from "The Burial of Flowers" written by Cao Xueqin in the Qing Dynasty.
"Ode to the Burial of Flowers"
Cao Xueqin of the Qing Dynasty
Original text:
The flowers fade and the flowers fly all over the sky, and the red fragrance disappears. Who pity?
The soft hairspring is tied to the floating spring pavilion, and the fallen catkins lightly touch the embroidered curtain.
The daughter in the boudoir cherishes the twilight of spring, full of melancholy and unable to find relief.
Peel the flowers out of the embroidered curtain with your hands, and bear to step on the fallen flowers back and forth.
The willow silk and elm pods will bloom from time to time, regardless of the peach blossoms and Li Fei;
The peaches and plums will bloom again next year. Who will be in the boudoir next year?
The March fragrance nest has been built, the swallows in the beams are so ruthless!
Although I can peck at the flowers next year, I won’t be able to leave my nest empty.
Three hundred and sixty days a year, the wind, the sword, the frost, the sword are facing each other;
How long can the bright and beautiful beauty last, it is hard to find it once it is wandering.
It is easy to see the flowers when they are in bloom but hard to find them. I am worried about killing the flower buryer in front of the steps.
I lean on the flowers alone and shed my tears secretly. I can see traces of blood on the empty branches.
The cuckoo is speechless. It is dusk, and the man with the hoe returns to cover the heavy door;
The green lantern shines on the wall, and the man is sleeping for the first time, while the cold rain knocks on the window and the quilt is not warm.
What happened to the strange slave? Half pity for spring and half angry for spring.
The pity for the spring comes and goes suddenly, and then the anger goes away, and it goes without saying anything.
Last night a sad song was heard outside the court, do you know it was the soul of a flower or a bird?
It’s hard to keep the soul of a flower and the soul of a bird. The bird is speechless and the flower is ashamed;
May I have wings today and fly with the flowers to the end of the sky.
Where is the fragrant hill at the end of the sky?
It is not like a brocade bag to collect beautiful bones, but a handful of pure soil to cover up the wind.
It is better to come and go clean than to be filthy and sink into ditches.
You will be buried now after you die. Who knows when you will be buried?
The people who are buried with flowers today are laughing like idiots. Who do you know who was buried next year?
Look at the flowers falling in spring, which is when beauty dies;
Once spring is gone, beauty will grow old, and people will die as the flowers fall!
Translation:
The flowers have withered and withered, and the wind is blowing them all over the sky. It has lost its bright red color and fragrance. Who can sympathize with it? The soft spider silk seems to be broken and connected, floating among the trees in spring. Catkins flying all over the sky blew in the wind and covered the embroidered door curtain. The girl in the boudoir feels so regretful when facing the scene of the last spring. Full of melancholy and melancholy, there is no place to put my sorrow.
Holding an iron hoe for hoeing flowers in hand, he opened the door curtain and walked into the garden. There are flowers all over the garden. How can I bear to walk around on them? Frivolous catkins and shallow elm coins only show off their beauty. Regardless of the falling peach blossoms or the flying plum blossoms. When spring returns next year, the peach and plum trees will be in bud and sprouting again. But in the boudoir next year, who will be left?
In March of the New Year, swallows burst into blooms, and the nest exuding the fragrance of flowers has just been built. The swallows between the beams, how ruthless they have ruined so many flowers! When the flowers are in full bloom next year, you can still hold flowers and plants in your mouth. How could you expect that the owner of the room has died long ago, the old nest has fallen, and only the beams are empty. Three hundred and sixty days in a year, what a life it is! The cold wind like a knife and the severe frost like a sharp sword ruthlessly destroyed the flower branches.
How long can the bright spring light and gorgeous flowers last? Once blown away by the strong wind, it is nowhere to be found. It is easy to see the flowers when they are in bloom, but difficult to find once they have fallen. Standing in front of the steps, I was filled with sorrow, which made me, the person who buried flowers, so sad. Holding the flower hoe tightly in my hand, I shed tears silently. Tears filled the empty branches, and the empty branches were stained with blood stains.
The cuckoo wept all the blood and tears and was silent, the sad dusk was coming. I reluctantly went back with my flower hoe and closed all the boudoir doors tightly; the green and cold lights shone on the four walls, and people had just entered the dreamland. The light cold spring rain knocked on the window lattice, and the quilt on the bed was still cold. People wonder what is it that makes me so sad today? Half of it is cherishing the beautiful spring, and half of it is resenting the passing of spring.
I am happy for the sudden arrival of spring, but also feel depressed for its hasty return. Spring comes to the world quietly and silently, and leaves without a sound. Last night, bursts of sad singing came from somewhere outside the hospital. I wonder if it is the soul of the flower or the spirit of the bird?
Whether it is the soul of a flower or the spirit of a bird, it is equally difficult to retain. Ask the bird, the bird is silent; ask the flower, the flower bows its head shyly. I sincerely hope that I can now have a pair of wings. Follow the flying flowers to the end of heaven and earth.
Even if we fly to the end of heaven and earth, where are the soul mounds where fragrant flowers are buried? Why not use this beautiful sachet to collect your delicate bones. Then pile up a pile of clean soil to bury your unparalleled romance. Your noble body was born clean and died clean. Don't let it be contaminated with a trace of filth and be abandoned in that dirty ditch.
Hua'er, if you die today, I will bury you. Who knows when I, a poor man like me, will suddenly die? I buried the flowers today, and people laughed at my infatuation. When I die, who can bury me? If you don’t believe it, please look at the withered spring scenery, the flowers are gradually falling. That is the moment when the girl in the boudoir grows old and dies.
Once the spring is gone, the girl's hair will be as white as silk.
The flowers wither and the people die, and the flowers and the people don’t know anything about it!
Extended information:
"The Flower Burial Song" comes from "A Dream of Red Mansions", creative background:
"A Dream of Red Mansions" was born at the end of China's feudal society in the 18th century. The Qing government implemented a closed-door policy, and the whole country was immersed in the dream of the prosperous Kangxi and Qianlong dynasties and the Celestial Empire. On the surface, this period seemed peaceful, but underneath, various social conflicts were intensifying and developing, and the entire dynasty had reached a turning point of prosperity and decline.
During the Kangxi and Yongzheng dynasties, three generations of the Cao family worked together in Jiangning weaving for 58 years. When the Cao family was at its peak, they had four missions to pick up people. Cao Xueqin grew up in Nanjing and experienced a wealthy and prosperous aristocratic life in his youth. But later, the family gradually declined, and in the sixth year of Yongzheng (1728), it was confiscated due to a deficit, and Cao Xueqin's family moved back to Beijing.
After returning to Beijing, he worked as a clerk in charge of literature and calligraphy in a royal school, the "Right Wing Zongxue". His situation was poor and his life was difficult. In his later years, he moved to the western suburbs of Beijing, where his life became even poorer. "The paths were full of basil" and "the whole family often had porridge and wine on credit." The book "A Dream of Red Mansions" was written by Cao Xueqin in poverty after he went bankrupt and lost his family. The creation period was from the early to the thirtieth year of Qianlong's reign.
About the author of "Ode to the Burial Flowers":
Cao Xueqin, whose given name is Zhan, also known as Mengruan, also known as Xueqin, also known as Qinxi and Qinpu, is the author of the Chinese classic "A Dream of Red Mansions" , the ancestral home of Guanwai is Tieling, Liaoning, and was born in Jiangning. Cao Xueqin was born in the Zhengbai Banner wrapping family of the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the Qing Dynasty. He is the grandson of Cao Yin, the weaver in Jiangning, and the son of Cao Yong.
In his early years, Cao Xueqin experienced a life of dandyism, wealth and romance in Jiangning Zhizao Mansion, Nanjing. Great-grandfather Cao Xi worked as a weaver in Jiangning; great-grandmother Sun worked as the nanny of Emperor Kangxi; grandfather Cao Yin worked as Emperor Kangxi's companion and imperial bodyguard, and later worked as a weaver in Jiangning, and also served as the envoy to inspect the salt in Huaihe River, and was highly trusted by Kangxi.
In the sixth year of Yongzheng's reign, Cao's family was confiscated because of a deficit, and Cao Xueqin moved back to his old home in Beijing with his family. Later he moved to the western suburbs of Beijing and made a living by selling calligraphy and painting and providing charity to friends. From then on, the Cao family failed to recover and gradually declined. After experiencing a major turning point in his life, Cao Xueqin deeply felt the harshness of the world and had a clearer and deeper understanding of feudal society.
He despised the powerful, stayed away from officialdom, and lived a difficult life of poverty. Cao Xueqin has an open nature and a wide range of hobbies. She has studied epigraphy, poetry, painting, gardening, traditional Chinese medicine, darning, crafts, and diet. With perseverance and many years of hardship, he finally created a great work of great ideological and artistic quality - "A Dream of Red Mansions".
In his later years, Cao Xueqin moved to the western suburbs of Beijing. Life is even poorer, with "paths full of basil" and "the whole family often eats porridge and wine on credit." ? In the twenty-seventh year of Qianlong's reign, his youngest son died young. He fell into excessive sadness and grief and became bedridden. On New Year's Eve in the 28th year of Qianlong's reign, he died of poverty and illness without medical treatment.
Baidu Encyclopedia - Song of Burying Flowers (a poem in "A Dream of Red Mansions")