Cold Food Festival
Tang dynasty・Han Hong
Tang dynasty・Han Hong
Blossoms fly everywhere through the spring city; at Cold Food Festival, the east wind tilts the imperial willows.
At dusk, candles are passed out from the Han palace; thin smoke drifts into the homes of the five marquises.
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Petals fly everywhere through the capital in spring; on Cold Food Day, the east wind bends the willows in the imperial gardens. At dusk, newly bestowed candles come out from the palace, and wisps of smoke drift into the mansions of the powerful.
春城: the capital in spring. 寒食: the Cold Food Festival, a traditional festival around Qingming, formerly observed by forbidding fires. 御柳: willows in the imperial gardens.
汉宫: Tang poetry often uses the Han dynasty to refer to the Tang; here it means the Tang palace. 传蜡烛: The palace bestows candles or newly kindled fire on favored high officials.
五侯: originally a designation for powerful Han nobles; here it broadly refers to favored grandees and should not be restricted to exactly five marquises’ households in the Tang dynasty.
Reading guide: Han Hong moves from spring scenery during the Cold Food Festival to the court’s bestowal of fire. The poem combines the capital’s bright beauty with hints of privilege and rank. Readers can attend to the shift from “无处” (“nowhere,” implying everywhere) in the first two lines to the restricted circle of noble households in the last two.
The first half depicts drifting blossoms, the east wind, and imperial willows in a scene of light, flowing movement, as though the whole city were bathed in spring. The second half continues this visual style with thin smoke, while drawing the view into the homes of a privileged few.
The poem offers no direct censure; its meaning lies in the contrast between the Cold Food Festival’s ban on fires and the palace’s gifts of candles. The more natural the tone, the more readily readers notice the unequal distribution of power within the festival customs.
From a poem into a story
At dusk during the Cold Food Festival, Yu Xiaolou carries a palace lantern with a vermilion shade along the long street where all fires have been extinguished, calculating whether his reward will pay for another search for his younger sister. Inside the third candle, a bone needle wound with red thread rattles softly, and the crooked writing on the scrap of cloth beside it is instantly familiar. The rules for delivering the new fire allow no mistake in the destination, and the official in charge is already urging the procession forward; the candle concealing the needle is destined for the Marquis of Wu’an’s residence.
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