江南春
qiān lǐ千里yīng莺tí啼lù绿yìng映gōng红，
shuǐ水cūn村shān山guō郭jiǔ酒qí旗fēng风。
Nán Cháo南朝sì四bǎi百bā shí八十sì寺，
duō shǎo多少lóu tái楼台yān yǔ烟雨zhōng中。
Line by line
- 千里莺啼绿映红，千里鶯啼綠映紅， For a thousand li orioles sing, green against red;
- 水村山郭酒旗风。水村山郭酒旗風。 by water villages and hill towns the wine-flags catch the wind.
- 南朝四百八十寺， Of the Southern Dynasties’ four hundred and eighty temples,
- 多少楼台烟雨中。多少樓臺煙雨中。 how many towers stand now in the misty rain?
The poet & the story
Du Mu (803–852) was a late-Tang poet celebrated for vivid, melancholy quatrains. Here he paints the prosperous, rain-soft Jiangnan landscape, then lets it shade into a quiet meditation on the Southern Dynasties — the many temples their devout emperors built, now half-lost in mist.
Interpretation
For a thousand li orioles sing, green setting off red; by river villages and hill towns the wine-shop banners flap in the wind. Of the four hundred and eighty temples the Southern Dynasties raised, how many towers and halls now stand veiled in the misty rain? Splendour and impermanence in one breath.