A festival where the moon plays a shining role

At this time of the year, within three days after the Mid-Autumn Festival, roaring tides of the Qiantang River, mostly in East China's Zhejiang province, drench everything that gestures a challenge, making a name as a spectacle for millenniums.

One creation of Southern Song Dynasty (1127-1279) poet Yang Wanli (1127-1206) compares the swells to city walls made of silver, or as if wrapping the Qiantang River with a jade belt.

On the Mid-Autumn Festival of 1073, Su observed the tidal bore during his tenure in Hangzhou and recorded his reverence and awe into a suite of poetry. In the first of the five poems he wrote:

Tell the Moon Goddess not to lock the door tonight,

Tis best to watch the tidal bore in the moonlight.

Southern Song Dynasty court painter Li Song (1166-1243) marked these lines on one of his works that depicts the scene of nobles watching the tidal bore from a luxurious mansion. This painting is among the collection of the Palace Museum in Taipei.

A full moon hangs on top of mountains shrouded in mist, and a small boat in the distance moves forward steadily. Not far from the river bank, a spring tide surges forward, its crest pushing and shoving, spraying water drops like pearls and jade, its momentum akin to a stampede of ten thousand horses, interprets Wang Aihua, doctoral candidate at the School of Philosophy of Zhejiang University.

She's been writing to introduce and appreciate ancient Chinese paintings since September 2020, based on the achievements of the grand book project A Comprehensive Collection of Ancient Chinese Paintings, led by Zhejiang University and the provincial cultural heritage administration of Zhejiang, which has systematically compiled images of more than 12,000 ancient Chinese paintings housed in over 260 museums and cultural institutions at home and abroad.

In Li's painting, the luxurious timber-structured mansion has intricately carved beams and painted rafters. Surrounding trees are turning yellow. Onlookers lean against the railings in small groups, gazing out at the tidal spectacle. It's a pity that the figures have faded, and their expressions can no longer be identified, according to Wang.

"Seeing the tide, some sigh at the gathering and parting of life, some contemplate its ups and downs, while others have generated courage to stand on a high tide and battle through the challenges of life.

"The tides rise and the moon sets just like in Li Song's time, waiting for generations of people to find their own sentiments within them," Wang adds.

fangaiqing@chinadaily.com.cn