When Sorrow Runs Like Water: Li Bai's Wild Farewell at Xietiao Tower
A Cry That Breaks the Sky
Li Bai's Xuan Zhou Xie Tiao Lou Jian Bie Jiao Shu Shu Yun (宣州谢朓楼饯别校书叔云) is a seven-character ancient verse (gushi) written around 753 CE in Xuanzhou (modern Anhui). It is supposed to be a farewell poem, yet it begins like a shout of anger: Qi wo qu zhe, zuo ri zhi ri bu ke liu; luan wo xin zhe, jin ri zhi ri duo fan you. (弃我去者，昨日之日不可留；乱我心者，今日之日多烦忧。) "The days that left me behind—yesterday's sun cannot be held back. The days that tangle my heart—today brings too much worry." This is not a gentle goodbye. It is a man pouring out years of frustration before he can even say farewell.
Wine, Wind, and the Courage to Dream
Then the mood lifts into something vast and free: Chang feng wan li song qiu yan, dui ci ke yi han gao lou. (长风万里送秋雁，对此可以酣高楼。) A long wind carries autumn geese across ten thousand miles, and facing this view, the two friends can drink deeply in the high tower. Li Bai praises his uncle's writing as having the strong bones of the old Jian'an masters, and he dares to compare his own spirit to Xie Tiao, the young poet who once made this tower famous: Peng lai wen jian an gu, zhong jian xiao xie you qing fa. Ju huai yi xing zhuang si fei, yu shang qing tian lan ming yue. (蓬莱文章建安骨，中间小谢又清发。俱怀逸兴壮思飞，欲上青天揽明月。) For a moment, their hearts soar together, ready to climb into the sky and pull down the moon. It is the Li Bai we love best—wild, laughing, and larger than life.
The Water That Cannot Be Cut
But the high mood crashes into one of the most famous images in all Chinese poetry: Chou dao duan shui shui geng liu, ju bei xiao chou chou geng chou. (抽刀断水水更流，举杯消愁愁更愁。) He draws his sword and strikes the river, but the water only flows faster. He raises his cup to drown his sorrow, yet the sorrow grows heavier. The picture is simple and terrible: some pains cannot be fought, and some sadness cannot be drunk away. It is a moment of bitter honesty from a man who has spent his life chasing dreams that the world refused to let him catch.
The Boat at Dawn
The poem ends with a quiet, stubborn escape: Ren sheng zai shi bu cheng yi, ming chao san fa nong bian zhou. (人生在世不称意，明朝散发弄扁舟。) "Life in this world does not go my way. Tomorrow I will let my hair fall loose and play with a small boat." He is not really planning a fishing trip. He is saying goodbye to the life of robes and titles, and hello to the river. Behind the beautiful words, the farewell to his uncle is still there—but it has become part of a much larger farewell to everything that has ever disappointed him.
