Willow waves - by Phil H - Tang Poetry

The word for willow (liǔ in modern Mandarin) has always sounded similar to the word for stay (liú), so a tradition in the Tang was to present someone leaving home with a willow twig, meaning, ‘I wish you could stay.’ Officials were often sent off to distant assignments when the roads became passable again after winter, so the willow trees that lined Chang’an’s canals had a tough time of it in the spring. Out in Wang Wei’s country estate, there was no such danger, and his willows produced a profusion of branches. Pei Di's poem at the same site (prose translation): The reflections are the same colour as the pool;/in the breeze, they flutter like silk./We have ground to sit on, and shade;/no need to thank the Tao family for our time with them. Three centuries earlier, the poet Tao Yuanming planted willow trees in his beautiful garden. Pei Di is suggesting that these willows are just as lovely. Translations of Chinese poetry from the Tang Dynasty Translations of Chinese poetry from the Tan

The word for willow (liǔ in modern Mandarin) has always sounded similar to the word for stay (liú), so a tradition in the Tang was to present someone leaving home with a willow twig, meaning, ‘I wish you could stay.’ Officials were often sent off to distant assignments when the roads became passable again after winter, so the willow trees that lined Chang’an’s canals had a tough time of it in the spring. Out in Wang Wei’s country estate, there was no such danger, and his willows produced a profusion of branches. Pei Di's poem at the same site (prose translation): The reflections are the same c