Quick Answer: What Is Water Tune Prelude About?
*Water Tune Prelude* (水调歌头, Shuǐdiào Gētóu) is a Song dynasty lyric Su Shi (苏轼, Sū Shì) wrote at Mid-Autumn in 1076 while thinking of his younger brother Su Zhe (苏辙, Sū Zhé). It begins with a question about the bright moon and ends with a wish that people far apart can share its light.[1]
- The first stanza: The speaker imagines riding the wind to the palace in the sky, then wonders how he could bear the cold there.
- The second stanza: Moonlight reaches a sleepless person, and the speaker asks why the moon is so often full when people are apart.
- The last lines: He wishes for a long life and the chance to share the same moon across a great distance.
The preface explains who first prompted that wish.[1]
The moon changes its place in Su Shi’s lyric. At first the speaker questions it from below. Later its light reaches a window, close to someone who cannot sleep.
Water Tune Prelude in Chinese, Pinyin and English
The words belong to the lyric genre called ci (词, cí), in which poets wrote to an established tune pattern. *Water Tune Prelude* names that pattern. The opening words, *When Did the Bright Moon Come to Be?*, distinguish Su Shi’s particular lyric.[1]
The simplified Chinese below follows the *Complete Song Lyrics* text transcribed by Stanford’s Global Medieval Sourcebook. The preface says the poet drank until dawn and thought of Ziyou, his brother’s courtesy name. The English rendering is original.[1][2]
| Bagian | Tionghoa | Pinyin | English |
|---|---|---|---|
| Preface | 丙辰中秋，欢饮达旦，大醉，作此篇，兼怀子由。 | Bǐngchén Zhōngqiū, huān yǐn dá dàn, dà zuì, zuò cǐ piān, jiān huái Zǐyóu. | At Mid-Autumn in the Bingchen year I drank merrily till dawn, got very drunk and wrote this lyric, with Ziyou in mind. |
| Stanza 1 | 明月几时有，把酒问青天。 | Míng yuè jǐ shí yǒu, bǎ jiǔ wèn qīng tiān. | When did the bright moon come to be? Cup in hand, I ask the clear sky. |
| Stanza 1 | 不知天上宫阙，今夕是何年。 | Bù zhī tiān shàng gōng què, jīn xī shì hé nián. | In the palaces up there, what year is it tonight? |
| Stanza 1 | 我欲乘风归去，又恐琼楼玉宇，高处不胜寒。 | Wǒ yù chéng fēng guī qù, yòu kǒng qióng lóu yù yǔ, gāo chù bù shēng hán. | I would ride the wind back there, but in those jade halls high above, I fear the cold would be too much. |
| Stanza 1 | 起舞弄清影，何似在人间。 | Qǐ wǔ nòng qīng yǐng, hé sì zài rén jiān. | I rise to dance and play with my clear shadow. How could it compare with being here among people? |
| Stanza 2 | 转朱阁，低绮户，照无眠。 | Zhuǎn zhū gé, dī qǐ hù, zhào wú mián. | Round the red tower, low across the patterned window, the moon lights someone still awake. |
| Stanza 2 | 不应有恨，何事长向别时圆。 | Bù yīng yǒu hèn, hé shì cháng xiàng bié shí yuán. | You can hardly bear a grudge. Why then are you always full when we are apart? |
| Stanza 2 | 人有悲欢离合，月有阴晴圆缺，此事古难全。 | Rén yǒu bēi huān lí hé, yuè yǒu yīn qíng yuán quē, cǐ shì gǔ nán quán. | People grieve and rejoice, part and meet. The moon is clouded or clear, full or waning. It has always been hard to have everything whole. |
| Stanza 2 | 但愿人长久，千里共婵娟。 | Dàn yuàn rén cháng jiǔ, qiān lǐ gòng chán juān. | May we live long, sharing that lovely moon though a thousand li apart. |
What Su Shi Imagines Above the Earth
The speaker asks the sky a question he cannot answer from where he stands. The palaces above seem to have their own calendar. He imagines the wind could carry him there and even uses the verb for returning, as though he already belonged. Then he anticipates the cold. An imagined home becomes an inhospitable place in the space of one couplet.[1]
The dance can be read as the moment he finds a pleasure available where he is. There is enough moonlight to cast a shadow and enough room to get up and move. Li Bai’s Drinking Alone under the Moon likewise gives the solitary drinker a moon and shadow, with a different way of turning them into company.
Why the Full Moon Makes Separation Hurt
The moon passes over a tower and reaches a window. The poem takes us from a celestial palace to the small frame of a room. It never names the person who is awake there. The preface gives readers a reason to think of the brothers, while the lyric leaves room for anyone kept awake by separation.[1]
The accusation makes sense on a night when a full moon is associated with reunion. A round, complete shape above makes an incomplete gathering below more conspicuous. The next parallel turns the complaint around. People part and meet, and the moon also has its changes. Its fullness can pass as well. The moon’s cycle gives the speaker another way of thinking about what he cannot control.[1]
The opening questions in To Li Bai at the Ends of the Sky reach toward a distant friend in a Tang poem. For a Song lyric that stays closer to the moment of departure, compare Liu Yong’s To the Tune of Yulin Ling.
What the Final Wish Means
In the final line, the lovely moon (婵娟, chánjuān) is the shared thing. The word points to beauty and, here, to the moon the two people can look at. The speaker wishes for both people to live long and for a sight that physical distance cannot take away. The sight offers them a small form of company across that distance.[1]
The wish grows from missing one person into words that other people can use. The Mid-Autumn and Lantern Festival comparison places that act of moon-gazing within the festival calendar.
FAQs About Water Tune Prelude
Do all poems called Water Tune Prelude have the same words?
No. The name identifies a tune pattern with a set arrangement of phrases. Poets could write different words to it. Su Shi’s lyric is distinguished by its first line about the bright moon.[1]
How far is a thousand li in the last line?
The li is a Chinese distance unit. Here a thousand li evokes a long separation without giving the two people’s measured distance. They can still look at the same moon.[1]
Sumber
[1] Stanford Global Medieval Sourcebook. Su Shi’s lyric with Chinese text, translation and notes
[2] Wikisource. Water Tune Prelude, with notes on textual variants