Archaeology: Dunhuang Edition of 'Invitation to Wine'—Six Changes, Each Bolder Than the Last, This Is the Real Li Bai!

"If I could relive my life, I would choose Li Bai." Many people love Li Bai, probably because he lived out the youthful ideal that many see in their eyes: unrestrained, carefree, and wildly unbridled. We once recited his 'Invitation to Wine' aloud to admire his unparalleled elegance. But what if I told you now that the version we've memorized might be a counterfeit? What would you think?

01 A Poem from Dunhuang

The splendor of Dunhuang civilization lies not only in the millennium-old Buddhist art sealed within the Mogao Caves but also in the immeasurable cultural heritage brought forth by the discovery of the Library Cave.

In 1900, the 26th year of the Guangxu reign, a Taoist priest named Wang Yuanlu, while clearing Cave 16 of the Mogao Caves, discovered a hidden chamber behind the wall. Over 50,000 Dunhuang manuscripts suddenly flooded his soul, as if in an instant.

Imperialist bandits always appeared unexpectedly, perhaps through long-planned plunder. The British Aurel Stein, the French Paul Pelliot, and later the Russians, Japanese, and Americans all came in succession, like sharks scenting blood in the sea, wagging their tails in an attempt to get a share.

Thus, these Dunhuang treasures scattered across the world, including many poems and prose works, mostly from the Tang Dynasty and predominantly handwritten copies. Among them were 43 poems by Li Bai.

One version, numbered P2567, features neat handwriting and a title not as we know 'Invitation to Wine', but clearly written as 'Cherish the Empty Cup'.

Just from the title, 'Invitation to Wine' is derived from the line 'Bring in the wine, cups do not stop', implying a toast, while the title 'Cherish the Empty Cup' reveals the most genuine side of the Poet Immortal: an old drunkard would never urge others to drink; worrying about having enough wine for himself is the true sentiment. Moreover, 'Cherish the Empty Cup' perfectly matches the later line 'Go straight and buy wine, drinking with you face to face'.

Next, let's look at four changes in the poem. In the original context, each line becomes bolder than the last, especially the final line, which exudes sheer dominance. But with these alterations by Song dynasty scholars, a perfect score of 100 was reduced to 90.

'Bright mirror by the bed' changed to 'Bright mirror in the hall'

The current phrase 'high hall' has many meanings—it can refer to parents or the court, as officials in the imperial court had a plaque behind their seats inscribed with 'Bright mirror hanging high'. In the Dunhuang fragment, it is written as 'by the bed', instantly making a public space private. A dressing mirror by the bed seems more true to real-life scenes.

Moreover, if we look at Li Bai's other poems, we find he had a particular fondness for 'bed'. For example, the famous 'Before my bed, a pool of light—can it be hoar-frost on the ground?' and 'Duke Yu loved the autumn moon, riding in pleasure on a Hu bed'. This means Li Bai often used 'bed' and 'moon' to create a stable imagery combination, which echoes the later line 'Do not let your golden cup face the moon empty'.

'Morning clouds like black' changed to 'Morning strands like black'

The original 'clouds' and the current 'strands' differ by only one character. We usually use 'black strands' to refer to hair, but if so, there would be no need for the word 'like' before it. From another perspective, 'black clouds' and the later 'white snow' seem more harmonious in color and imagery.

'Qing' means black, contrasting with 'bai' (white), and the character 'yun' (cloud) was often used by ancients to describe lush hair, as in 'Luxuriant hair like clouds' from the Book of Songs, and Li Shangyin's 'At dawn she fears her cloudy hair will change, reciting poems by moonlight feels cold'.

'Heaven gave my kind handsome talent' changed to 'Heaven gave my talent for a purpose'

This line is a famous saying through the ages. Which one better captures Li Bai's mood at the time? YangSir believes it should be the former. First, just from the momentum conveyed by the lines, 'Heaven gave my kind handsome talent' absolutely crushes 'Heaven gave my talent for a purpose'. Why?

'Have handsome talent' is an almost arrogant affirmative statement, while 'for a purpose' carries a slightly inferior tone, as being useful or useless depends on others' definition. 'Heaven gave my kind handsome talent' expresses this feeling: whether you use me or not, I am here, and my talent neither increases nor decreases.

Additionally, considering the later 'Cen Fuzi, Danqiusheng', 'my kind' could also refer to a close circle of 'us', not just Li Bai as an individual. Finally, in terms of rhyme, 'Heaven gave my kind handsome talent' rhymes better with 'A thousand gold coins scattered, they will return again'.

'Please pour for me' changed to 'Please lend me your ears'

This change is the most obvious. The latter version not only adds three characters 'lend me your ears' after this line but also inserts the titular line 'Bring in the wine, cups do not stop' before it, to rhyme 'ear' with 'stop'.

The fragment is more concise: 'pour for me' directly rhymes with the previous 'Danqiusheng'. Although the two lines express roughly the same meaning—everyone is captivated by his song—the added 'Bring in the wine, cups do not stop, lend me your ears' in the popular version may have been a forced attempt to align with the Han yuefu title 'Invitation to Wine'.

'Bronze drums and jade silk are not precious' changed to 'Bronze drums and fine food are not precious'

In these two lines, 'jade silk' is replaced by 'fine food', and the tone shifts from rhetorical question to affirmation. The difference is clear.

First, 'jade silk' refers to precious ritual objects like gui (jade tablets) and silk fabrics used in diplomatic ceremonies. 'Fine food' means exquisite cuisine, as precious as jade. Combined with 'bronze drums' (music), it carries a different implication.

'Bronze drums and jade silk' originates from the Analects: 'Rites, rites! Are they merely jade and silk? Music, music! Is it merely bells and drums?' It represents the ritual and music culture of the Spring and Autumn period, belonging to the aristocracy. The latter version, colloquially, means 'eating hotpot while listening to music', describing a life of luxury and wealth.

Comparing the two, the former is clearly superior because 'bronze drums and jade silk' not only have an ancient flavor but also imply 'nobility' in status, not just 'wealth' of eating and drinking, which aligns with the later emphasis on 'precious'.

As for the tone, a rhetorical question is better because the word 'not' in an affirmative statement would repeat with the later 'not' in 'Willing to stay drunk forever, not willing to wake up', making the reading less lively.

'All the saints and sages of old are dead' changed to 'All the saints and sages of old are lonely'

This is perhaps the most shocking line in the entire poem. The Poet Immortal dares to declare: 'Saints and sages all dead, only I remain.' Li Bai's wildness is evident. Probably because of this, in the eyes of the rational, sage-revering Song people, 'All the saints and sages of old are dead' was outright blasphemous and had to be changed.

From a literary perspective, 'are dead' matches better with 'leave their names', though somewhat crude, it wins in directness. Imagine at the height of a drunken revel, would you be spouting 'Confucius says' and 'The Master said'? This poem, written in 752, was Li Bai's masterpiece of political frustration and career setback. Without drinking alone, boasting, or being wild and mad, how could it be Li Bai?

02 The Wildness Belonging to Li Bai

Li Bai's wildness was not confined to this 'Invitation to Wine' but permeated his entire life.

At fifteen, when he picked up his brush to write a rhapsody, he forgot who Sima Xiangru was:

At fifteen, I read strange books, composing rhapsodies surpassing Xiangru.

In his youth, he loved being a wandering knight. After learning some swordsmanship, he dared to say:

'Ten steps to kill one man, a thousand miles no trace left. When done, shaking off his clothes, he hides his name in the shadows.'

When applying for jobs and submitting resumes, he would mock the interviewer:

'Confucius himself respected the younger generation; men should not despise youth.'

Hearing the emperor's summons, he laughed heartily, thinking, 'I indeed am not meant for farming':

Laughing uproariously, I go out the door—how could I be a mere common man?

To prove himself an officially recognized immortal, he wrote:

An immortal patted my head, binding my hair, receiving eternal life.

Facing the public idol Confucius, he dared to mock him before the world:

I am a madman of Chu, singing a phoenix song to laugh at Confucius.

If he was unhappy, regardless of who you were, he would quit:

How can I bow and scrape to serve the powerful, never letting my heart be happy?

Even in his final swan song, he compared himself to a fallen roc:

Future generations, when you receive this and pass it on, Confucius is dead—who will shed tears for me?

This is Li Bai. His wildness was undisguised, open and aboveboard. It matches his own line: 'Moonlight flows straight in, no heart to guess.' Li Bai knew how others saw him: 'The whole prefecture laughs at me as a mad guest, young men often sneer at me.' But he didn't care, because he always believed he was the roc from Zhuangzi's writings, soaring ninety thousand li, so how could he bother about the mocking of the cicada and the dove hopping among the wormwood?

Finally, let me end with a favorite quote from Yu Guangzhong:

'Wine enters the melancholy gut, seven parts turn into moonlight, the remaining three become sword aura. A single embroidered mouth exhales half the prosperous Tang.' — Yu Guangzhong

Li Bai, 'With you, the Great Tang truly became remarkable,' said Yang Guifei.

Source: YangSir's Archaeological Eye