Tag Archives: 陶潜

“Drinking Wine, no. 5” [饮酒·其五] by Tao Qian [陶潜] (a.k.a. Tao Yuanming [陶渊明])

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Taken in Hartwell, Georgia.
I live amid a busy town,
   But traffic sounds are never heard.
 
How can this possibly be true?

Deep in the mind, all is remote.

Picking 'mums by the eastern fence,
   I peer at distant South Mountains.
 Sunset flares in garish color.
   Birds flock home in lines and clusters. 
 The scene conveys some great meaning,
   But words to express it fail me.

NOTES: “Drinking Wine, no. 5” [饮酒·其五] is one of Tao Qian’s [陶潜] “Twenty Poems on Drinking Wine” [饮酒二十首.] It is the best-known piece from the collection. The original poem in Simplified Chinese script is:

结 庐 在 人 境,
而 无 车 马 喧.
问 君 何 能 尔?
心 远 地 自 偏.
采 菊 东 篱 下,
悠 然 见 南 山.
山 气 日 夕 佳,
飞 鸟 相 与 还.
此 中 有 真 意,
欲 辨 已 忘 言.

I’ve started reading a review copy of Arthur Sze’s Transient Worlds (from Copper Canyon Press, due out April 14, 2026.) The first chapter discusses this poem and various translations of it, encouraging readers to make their own translation. This is mine. For more information about the book, see: https://www.coppercanyonpress.org/books/transient-worlds-arthur-sze/

“Drinking Alone in the Rainy Season” by Tao Yuanming [陶渊明] (a.k.a. Táo Qián, or 陶潜]

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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.