鱼玄机，女，晚唐诗人，长安（今陕西西安）人。初名鱼幼微，字蕙兰。咸通（唐懿宗年号，860—874）中为补阙李亿妾，以李妻不能容，进长安咸宜观出家为女道士。后被京兆尹温璋以打死婢女之罪名处死。鱼玄机性聪慧，有才思，好读书，尤工诗。与李冶、薛涛、刘采春并称唐代四大女诗人。鱼玄机其诗作现存五十首，收于《全唐诗》。有《鱼玄机集》一卷。其事迹见《唐才子传》等书。
Yu Xuanji, female, was a poet of the late Tang Dynasty, born in Chang’an (now Xi’an, Shaanxi). The original name is Yu Youwei, with the courtesy name Huilan. In Xiantong (Tang Yizong era name, 860-874), Li Yifei was appointed as a concubine to fill the vacancy. As Li’s wife could not tolerate her, she entered Xianyi Temple in Chang’an and became a female Taoist priest. Later, he was executed by the Jingzhao Yin Wen Zhang on charges of killing a maid. Yu Xuanji is intelligent, talented, good at reading, and particularly skilled in poetry. She is known as one of the four great female poets of the Tang Dynasty, along with Li Ye, Xue Tao, and Liu Caichun. There are currently fifty poems by Yu Xuanji, which are included in the “Complete Tang Poems”. There is a volume called ‘Fish Mysteries Collection’. His deeds can be found in books such as “Biography of Tang Talented Scholars”.
The poem ‘Mourning for the Lost’ is a heartfelt tribute written by Tang Dynasty female poet Renyu Xuanji. The entire poem conveys deep nostalgia and endless grief for the departed loved ones.
鱼玄机·《代人悼亡》
曾睹夭桃想玉姿，带风杨柳认蛾眉。
珠归龙窟知谁见，镜在鸾台话向谁。
从此梦悲烟雨夜，不堪吟苦寂寥时。
西山日落东山月，恨想无因有了期。
Mourning for Another
Yu Xuanji
Fresh peaches I have seen
remind me of her delicate form;
in windswept willows I recognize
her feathery, moth-like brows.
The pearl has returned
to the dragon cave;
who will see her now?
The mirror’s still here,
but the phoenix is gone;
how can they converse?
On misty rainy nights from now,
dreams will be of sorrow;
nonce can bear the silent pain
when desolate, alone.
The sun has set and disappeared
beyond the western slopes;
and now the moon has risen
over the eastern hills:
how bitter it is to think of how
the end can come without cause.
（Bannie Chow, Thomas Cleary 译）
Elegy on Another’s Behalf
Yu Xuanji
The young peach I glimpsed calls to mind her jade beauty,
Willows trailing in the wind I recognize her moth eyebrows.
The pearl has returned to the dragon’s cave, who shall see it again? 1
The mirror remains on the phoenix stand, but to whom shall I speak? 2
From now on, in dreams I will grieve through nights of mist and rain,
Unable to bear bitter chanting when I am lonely.
As the sun sets on the western mountains, the moon rises in the east,
But there is no way to end my regretful thoughts.
1. Cf. Zhuangzi, chap. 32: “A pearl worth a thousand gold pieces certainly belongs in the nine-layered abyss, beneath the chin of a black dragon.”
2. According to legend, the king of Jibin (Kashmir) once bought a female phoenix. Despite being fed the most expensive delicacies, she refused to sing. After three years the king’s wife said to him, “I’ve heard that if a phoenix sees its like, it will sing. Why not hang a mirror in front of her?” The king followed her advice. The phoenix saw her reflection and cried out broken-heartedly. Spreading her wings, she rose into the air once and died.
（Jennifer Carpenter 译）
