Being able to read Chinese, even if is dumbed-down stories for beginners and I still have to look words up every few sentences. But it feels like I’ve stumbled upon a door to a whole new universe.
PROMPT: Excited
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Category Archives: Chinese Literature
“To a Taoist Hermit on Mt. Quanjiao” [寄全椒山中道士] by Wei Yingwu [韦应物]
Today, my office is chilly.
At once, I miss my mountain chum,
Who bound firewood in the valley,
Bringing it back to boil white stones.
I wish I could ladle some wine
To comfort on this stormy night.
But fallen leaves fill mountain hollows,
How could I find a track to follow?
This is poem #29 from the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首], entitled 寄全椒山中道士. The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
今朝郡斋冷， 忽念山中客；
涧底束荆薪， 归来煮白石。
欲持一瓢酒， 远慰风雨夕。
落叶满空山， 何处寻行迹？
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Wen Fu 12 [文赋十二] “Idiosyncrasy” by Lu Ji [陆机] [w/ Audio]
Thoughts conveyed by way of short verse
May degrade in eccentricity.
With bowed head, lonely and friendless.
Face up, vast sky where all is free.
Like one string stretched to perfect pitch,
But lacking all resonancy.
NOTES: Earlier I posted a translation by Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping, entitled A One-String Harp that was contained in The Art of Writing (Boston: Shambhala; p. 15) This, however, is my own translation. The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
或讬言于短韵，对穷迹而孤兴。
俯寂寞而无友，仰寥廓而莫承。
譬偏弦之独张，含清唱而靡应。
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“Parting” [送别] by Wang Wei [王维] [w/ Audio]
I dismount to share some booze,
And ask the wayfarer where he goes.
Begrudgingly, and with discontent,
He says, "I'll rest up near South Mount."
He asks me to just leave him be.
White clouds cross vast skies - endlessly.
This is poem 13 in the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首.] The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
下马饮君酒， 问君何所之？
君言不得意， 归卧南山陲。
但去莫复问，白云无尽时。
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“Inspired by Late Spring” by Ye Cai [w/ Audio]
Sparrows cast on my desk their shadows in pair,
And willow down falls in my inkstone here and there.
Sitting by the window, I read the Book of Change,
Not knowing when has Spring gone, I only feel strange.
Note: This is the joint translation of Xu Yuanchong and Xu Ming found in the Golden Treasury of Quatrains and Octaves (a Bilingual edition of 千家诗 “Thousands of Poems”) on which they collaborated (i.e. China Publishing Group: Beijing (2008) p. 40)
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BOOK: “The Poetry of Zen” Ed. / Trans. Sam Hamill & J.P. Seaton
The Poetry of Zen by Sam HamillMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Publisher Site – Shambhala
This poetry anthology consists of translations of Chinese and Japanese poetry that play in the Zen aesthetic. They are not Zen Buddhist poetry in the sense of being sutras or sutra-like expositions on Buddhist philosophy or theology (at least, not mostly.) And while there are many monks and Buddhist layperson poets represented, not all of those included were Buddhists. (In fact, there is even some verse from the Daodejing included, though Taoism is certainly philosophically related to Zen.)
About half the book is Chinese poetry, including pieces from Han Shan, Li Bai, Bai Juyi, Wang Wei, Du Fu, and many other greats of Chinese poetry. (Note: my spellings of author names varies from those used in the book because Hamill and Seaton use Wade-Giles spellings.) The other half of the book consists of works by Japanese poets, including: Saigyo, Dogen, Basho, Ryokan, Buson, Issa, and others. The Japanese part includes a few haibun (prose poems interspersed with haiku,) adaptations of Chinese-style poems, as well as the various Japanese fixed form styles (i.e.. haiku, tanka, etc.)
The two translators, Sam Hamill and J.P. Seaton, initial the poems that each translated (some were dually translated and others singularly.) I enjoyed the translations and felt they were fine reading in their own right. With haiku and tanka, the translators stuck fairly close to the traditional form (in as much as the aesthetic could be maintained doing so,) but with Chinese lyric styles they often took a freer approach to form.
If you’re interested in poetry that conveys Zen sentiment, this book is worth investigating.
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Wen Fu 11 “Banal & Sublime” [文赋十一] by Lu Ji [陆机] [w/ Audio]
Some shoots and stalks stand out --
Taller than the masses.
Their form eludes pursuit,
Sound slips through, like gases.
Great lines are always disjunct:
Don't weave with mid'ling lyrics.
They're pent up and peerless:
Chop them? A win that's pyrrhic.
Jade flecks make mountains shimmer,
Pearly waters enchant.
The thicket mustn't be clipped
If Kingfisher's glory, grant.
Stitched words end under snow,
Work the weft, steady and slow.
The original in Simplified Chinese is:
或苕发颖竖，离众绝致。
形不可逐，响难为系。
块孤立而特峙，非常音之所纬。
心牢落而无偶，意徘徊而不能揥。
石韫玉而山辉，水怀珠而川媚。
彼榛楛之勿翦，亦蒙荣于集翠。
缀下里于白雪，吾亦济夫所伟。
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BOOKS: “A Journey to Inner Peace and Joy” by Zhang Jianfeng [Trans. by Tony Blishen]
A Journey to Inner Peace and Joy: Tracing Contemporary Chinese Hermits by Zhang Jianfeng by Unknown AuthorMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Publisher Site
In 1993, Bill Porter (a.k.a. Red Pine) came out with a book called “Road to Heaven” that documented his experiences meeting with hermits in rural China. For many, both in and certainly out of China, the continued existence of this lifestyle might have come as a surprise. This book follows up over twenty years later, showing that Buddhists and Daoist hermits are still alive and well in the mountains of interior China.
The book not only offers beautiful descriptions of the lands where these men and women live, but also insight into their mindsets and how they live such minimalist lives. It’s a light and compelling look at individuals like those one might read of in “Outlaws of the Marsh,” only living in the present day (though living lives not unlike their historical counterparts did more than a thousand years ago.)
The book offers many color photos of the hermits and the landscapes in which they live.
I’d highly recommend this book for anyone interested in the way of reclusive existence.
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“Bad Government” by Guan Xiu [贯休] [w/ Audio]
Sleet and rain, as if the pot were boiling.
Winds whack like the crack of an axe.
An old man, an old man,
At sunset, crept into my hut.
He sighed. He sighed as if to himself,
"These rulers, so cruel. Why, tell me
Why they must steal till we starve,
Then slice the skin from our bones?
For a song from some beauty,
They'll go back on sworn words;
For a song from some tart,
They'll tear down our huts;
For a sweet song or two,
They'll slaughter ten thousand like me,
Like you. Weep as you will,
Let your hair turn white,
Let your whole clan go hungry...
No good wind will blow,
No gentle breeze
Begin again.
Lord Locust Plague and Baron Bandit Bug,
One east, one west, one north, one south.
We're surrounded.
NOTE: This the J.P. Seaton translation found in The Poetry of Zen (2004); Shambhala Publications: Boston, MA, pp. 67-68. For the author’s name, Seaton uses “Kuan Hsiu,” the Wade-Giles romanization of the name.
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“Drinking Alone in the Rainy Season” by Tao Yuanming [陶渊明] (a.k.a. Táo Qián, or 陶潜]
Whatever lives must meet its end --
That is the way it has always been.
If Taoist immortals were once alive,
Where are they today?
The old man who gave me wine
Claimed it was the wine of the immortals.
One small cup and a thousand worries vanish;
Two, and you'll even forget about heaven.
But is heaven really so far away?
It is best to trust in the Tao.
A crane in the clouds has magic wings
To cross the earth in a moment.
It's been forty years of struggle
Since I first became reclusive.
Now that my body is nearly dead,
My heart is pure. What more is there to say?
NOTE: This is the translation of Sam Hamill found in The Poetry of Zen (2004); Shambhala Publications: Boston, MA, p.24.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 