The Song of the Wretched Scholar, in 5-syllable couplets

Staatsbibliothek fascicles 4 and 14 contain a total of four poems written in five-syllable couplets, of which the poem below is one example. It seems this poem is further organized into quatrains (pairs of couplets), based on the changes of subject matter. This form, borrowed from Chinese tradition, must have been somewhat difficult for a Manchu poet because it limits most lines to two words.

The scholar in the poem is an idealized character, his wretched exterior contrasted with a noble interior. We don’t really get to see the scholar as a whole person, however, with hopes and fears and weaknesses and idiosyncrasies, and in that way the subject seems very shallow.

As the last couplet suggests, we are likely to wonder who the scholar is, and I think the poet had a particular person in mind. Unfortunately, I have never yet seen a Manchu poem where a person is actually named outright, so we may never for certain whom this was intended to describe.

	yadahūn saisa-i ucun		The Song of the Wretched Scholar
	Staatsbibliothek 14.8 (View Online)
	kokima saisa,		The indigent scholar
	umesi yobo,		is quite funny.
	suilacun canggi,		All he has is hardship,
	yadahūn noho,		he’s covered in poverty.
5	abai etuku,		Where are his clothes from?
	abai jemengge,		Where are his meals from?
	aide boo ūlen,		Where is his house and home?
	aide tuwa muke,		Where are his fire and water?
	ai wehe yaha,		What coal does he have?
10	ai jeku bele,		What food and grain?
	jiha yamaka,		Has he any money?
	ulin aibide,		Where is his property?
	nagan fulahūn,		His kang is pink,
	dere [几] ajige,		his table is small,
15	agūra seci,		as for implements,
	mucen-i teile,		just a cooking pot.
	juwari halukan,		Summer is warm,
	kemuni yebe,		so that is nicer,
	tuweri šahūrun,		but winter is cold,
20	ainu hamire,		how will he tolerate it?
	muru ubiyada,		His form is detestable,
	gisun eimede,		his speech repugnant,
	cira horoki,		his face looks old,
	giru šoyoro,		his appearance wrinkled.
25	gūnin wesihun,		His thoughts are exalted,
	beye giohoto,		though he has a beggar’s body.
	oilo buyasi,		Outside he’s humble,
	dolo yekengge,		inside he’s grand.
	hesebun juken,		Fated to be common,
30	mujilen tondo,		his mind is upright,
	mujin ambakan,		his aspirations are great,
	yabun hošonggo,		his deeds are righteous.
	jurgan tuwakiyahai,		As he watches over his virtues,
	hanja hairame,		he loves honesty,
35	jalangga beki,		he’s strong in frugality,
	sahiba moco,		unskilled at fawning.
	aisi de heolen,		Unconcerned with profit,
	tacin de hojo,		gratified in study,
	derenggei doli,		noble in substance,
40	gicukei oilo,		disgraceful in appearance.
	baitalan eden,		Lacking employment,
	funiyagan onco,		his forbearance is vast,
	ere we seci,		if you ask who this is,
	yan dzeng [顏曾] ni gese.		it’s the likes of Yán Huí and Zēngzǐ.

Translation difficulties

derenggei doli. For doli Norman has “the pulp of fruit.” Since the poet has paired it with oilo in the next line, it suggests a meaning that contrasts the scholar’s inner (dolo) being with his outer (oilo) appearance. I chose the translation “substance” as a term that could capture the idea of the stuff a person is made of as well as the stuff you find inside a fruit.

Magpie

In the following poem, set to the tune Celebrating the Sacred Dynasty, the magpie is a wise craftsman who builds a strong and secure house. However, the poem invokes a metaphor of the Duke of Zhou, and that must surely be from the Shījīng [詩經] I.2.12, which begins:

維鵲有巢，維鳩居之
saksaha-i feye be / dudu ejelembiThe nest of the magpie / is occupied by the turtledove

The commentary on this poem from the Manchu translation of the Shījīng reads:

saksaha feye arara faksi.	The magpie is the maker of the nest.
terei feye mujakū akdun beki.	Its nest is truly strong and secure.
dudu-i banin moco, feye arame bahanarakū.	The turtledove, by nature, is crude, and cannot build a nest.
ememungge saksaha-i belen-i araha feye de bimbi.	Some live in the nests ready-made by the magpies.

The use of the words faksi, akdun, beki in the poem below show a direct allusion to the commentary above. The ending lines of the Manchu poem ask a question that could be understood in two different ways, depending on whether faksi means “craftsman” or “craftiness”:

• Who is taught by this kind of wise craftsman?
• Who is taught by this kind of clever craftiness?

I think the ambiguity may be intentional, allowing the poet to simultaneously challenge the wisdom of working hard when one’s work will ultimately be taken over by another, and also to invite the listener to consider what kind of person would see this and take it as a model for their own dishonest behavior.

	saksaha [鵲雀],		Magpie
	Staatsbibliothek 11.59 (View Online)
	banitai,		By nature,
	banin gali,		precocious in disposition,
	jilgaci,		when it sings,
	jilgan sabi,		its song is an omen,
5	jeo gung duibulen,		it was a metaphor of the Duke of Zhou.
	feye arambi,		It makes a nest,
	uce fa,		doors and windows
	akdun beki,		strong and secure.
	tacibuhangge weci,		Who are the ones that are taught
10	enteke sure faksi.		by this kind of clever craftiness?

Translation Notes

weci, this is either “from whom” or the plural form of we, “who?” I think the latter makes more sense in this context.

The musical rhythm of the Black-Naped Oriole

The Black-Naped Oriole is the most popular cí tune in the Staatsbibliothek poems. Looking in fascicle 36 of 新定九宮大成南北詞宮譜, there are four melodies set to different versions of the tune, recorded using gōngchě notation.

Of these, the third variant seems the best fit to the meter of the poems in the Staatsbibliothek manuscript, and we can use it to figure out not only the musical tune that accompanied the performance of a Black-Naped Oriole poem, but also the lengths assigned to each syllable when the poem was sung out loud.

The notes in gōngchě notation are recorded to the right of the syllable they accompany, and the timing is indicated by dots and circles to the right of the notes. The dots and circles represent the alternating weak and strong beats of a drum, and by looking at their placement in the tune, we can figure out how long most of the syllables were held for.

The shortest syllable length is half a beat, and all other syllable lengths are multiples of that. If we represent syllable lengths in half-beats (so the shortest syllable is length 1, double that is length 2, and so forth) the Black-Naped Oriole rhythm looks like the following:

Line 1:    1 - 1 - 1 - 3 - 6 (rhyme)
Line 2:    2 - 2 - 2 - 1 - 3 - 2 (rhyme)
Line 3:    1 - 1 - 2 - 2 - 1 - 3 - 5 (rhyme)
Line 4:    1 - 1 - 1 - 2 - 5 (rhyme)
Line 5:    1 - 1 - 1 - 2 - 2 (rhyme)
Line 6:    2 - 2 - 2 - 2 - 1 - 3 - 4  (rhyme)
Line 7:    2 - 2 - 2 (rhyme)
Line 8:    1 - 1 - 2 - 2 (non-rhyming line)
(caesura length 1)
Line 9:    1 - 2 - 1 - 3 - 2 (rhyme)

A number of really interesting features emerge when you look at the poem this way. One of these is that the caesura before line 9 (the punch-line) really is a caesura, and it looks like a unique feature of the Manchu performance of the Black-Naped Oriole. In the Chinese form there is actually a character there that occupies half a beat, but in Manchu there is never a syllable there, and the scribe often puts a line that visually indicates the presence of the caesura.

Another feature is a rhythmic theme at the ends of lines that runs 1 - 3 - 2+. It appears at the ends of lines 1, 2, and 3, but then there is something like a Western musical bridge in lines 4, 5 and 6. Lines 7 and 8 set up the punch-line, and the punch-line returns to the theme.

To apply this to a poem, here is the Fishing poem, with the theme in green and the bridge in blue.

tugi mukei ba
mini boo ya falga
ula tenggin hūi ciha
asu maktara
nimaha niša
nure hūlašacina
wei sasa
nurei hoki
(caesura)
bele edun biya