Song Zhiwen

Song Zhiwen

Song Zhiwen (宋之问, ca. 656–712) was a pivotal figure in the Early Tang Dynasty and a foundational master who helped formalize the structure of regulated verse (Lüshi). His technical mastery of tonal patterns and poetic meter paved the way for the flourishing of Chinese poetry in the centuries that followed.

While his career was deeply intertwined with the complex politics of Empress Wu Zetian’s court, his most enduring works are those born from exile and nostalgia. His masterpiece, "Crossing the Han River" (渡汉江), captures the delicate emotional tension of a traveler returning home, famously depicting the "fear" of asking for news from family after long years of separation.

At CN-Poetry, we showcase the refined elegance of Song Zhiwen’s works—from his polished courtly verses to his hauntingly beautiful poems composed at the Dayu Ridge. Our English translations aim to preserve both the metrical precision and the profound sense of longing that define his unique place in the Tang Dynasty canon.

Representative Works

Crossing River Han ( 渡汉江 )

Song Zhiwen's Du Han Jiang (渡汉江)—a pentasyllabic quatrain (wuyan jueju) that distills the entire Tang exile-and-retur…

I longed for news on the frontier

From day to day, from year to year.

Now nearing home, timid I grow;

I dare not ask what I would know.

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Farewell to Du Shenyan ( 送别杜审言 )

This poem was composed by Tang Dynasty poet Song Zhiwen as a heartfelt farewell to his friend Du Shenyan, who was exiled …

They say that wildgeese, flying southward,

Here turn back, this very month...

Shall my own southward journey

Ever be retraced, I wonder?

...The river is pausing at ebb-tide,

And the woods are thick with clinging mist --

But tomorrow morning, over the mountain,

Dawn will be white with the plum-trees of home.

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Nscribed on the Wall of An Inn North of Dayu Mountain ( 题大庾岭北驿 )

Song Zhiwen's Ti Dayu Ling Bei Yi (题大庾岭北驿)—a pentasyllabic regulated verse (wuyan lüshi) composed during the poet'…

They say that wildgeese, flying southward,

Here turn back, this very month....

Shall my own southward journey

Ever be retraced, I wonder?

...The river is pausing at ebb-tide,

And the woods are thick with clinging mist --

But tomorrow morning, over the mountain,

Dawn will be white with the plum-trees of home.

Read Translation & Analysis →
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