靜夜思 original text
Stay close to the sentence.
Before the bed, I look at moonlight.
I suspect it is frost on the ground.
I raise my head and look at the mountain moon.
I lower my head and think of my native place.
Let the image breathe.
Moonlight before my bed,
I take it for frost upon the ground.
I lift my head to the mountain moon,
then lower it, thinking of home.
What to know
The poem is conventionally attributed to Li Bai, a poet whose work often moves from an immediate image to a wide emotional horizon. Its power comes from its restraint: the poem gives no elaborate backstory, only the room, the moon, and the turn of the body toward home.
What to notice
The visual movement is also emotional movement. Looking down makes the moonlight tactile, like frost. Looking up opens the sky, while looking down again brings the speaker back to memory. The repeated gestures make homesickness feel physical and immediate.
Three useful phrases.
- 牀前
- before the bed; the space immediately beside the sleeper
- 疑
- to suspect or mistake something for another thing
- 故鄉
- one’s native place, homeland, or home remembered from afar