Tag Archives: Chinese Poetry

“Tacit” [Poetry Style #12] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

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Without a word,
   The gist is grasped.
 With no wails or soft sobs,
   Sadness spreads heart-to-heart.
 There is an enigmatic Prime Mover
   With whom each of us either sinks or floats.
 Dregs of rustic wine in a fine strainer.
 Buds on the cusp of bloom turned back by cold.
 Dust motes spreading by Brownian motion.
 Sea spume floating and tumbling onto shore.
    Shallow, deep, cohering, or scattering.
 Of ten thousand, any sample will do.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the twelfth of the twenty-four poems. Translated titles vary: Herbert Giles entitled this one “Conservation,” whereas Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping called it “The Implicit Style.”

“Renunciant’s Song” by Su Shi [w/ Audio]

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The night is clear, even pristine --
   A nightscape in silver moonlight.
 "Yes, please! Pour me a bowl of wine.
   Don't skimp! take it up to the brim."
 And why should I chase wealth and fame
   When it is sure to end in vain?
 Events pass like a horse's sigh,
   A spark on stone, or dream travel.
 I can put out my ideas,
   But who'll accept them as the truth?
 Why shouldn't I just live happily 
   And innocently, like a child?
 I could go back to carefree days
   When life's trifles weren't torturesome.
 Just me, my lute, a pot of wine,
   And the stories drawn by the clouds.

NOTES: Song Dynasty Poet, Su Shi, was also known as Su Dongpo. The translated title of this poem also varies. In Deep, Deep the Courtyard, translated by Xu Yuanchong, it is entitled, “Song of Pilgrimage.”

“Natural” [Poetry Style #10] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

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Stoop anywhere and pluck it up,
 But if you look 'round - it's not there.
 Any path may lead you to it.
A stroke of the brush becomes Spring,
 And the flowers are in full bloom. --
 It's like seeing a new year dawn:
 Snatch at it and you won't have it.
 Seize it by force and you'll be poorer.
Be like the old mountain hermit --
 Like duckweed gathered by stream flow.
Find calm amidst storms of feeling
 By knowing Heaven's harmonies.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the tenth of the twenty-four poems.

“Good Things” by Qin Guan [w/ Audio]

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Spring rains spur roadside flower growth,
   and wildflowers creep to the mountain's base.
 Hiking deep up the valley along the stream,
   I see and hear hundreds of orioles.
Looking skyward, a cloud becomes a dragon or snake,
   But then breaks up, giving way to blue sky.
 Lying in the forest under hanging vines,
    I can't tell north from south.

“Strong” [Poetry Style #8] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

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Walk with a mind that's clear and unburdened, 
   With life force that flares -n- flows like rainbows,
 Traversing the witch's gorge through the mountains --
   Among the floating clouds and blowing winds. 
 Drink up the spiritual; dine on the real;
   Let them ever build up in your body.
 Emulate the health and might of the gods,
   Preserve your energy through harmony.
 Be one with Heaven, be one with the Earth.
   See in yourself divine transformations.
 Know all this to the utmost -- be all this,
 And hold on to it 'til the bitter end.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the eighth of the twenty-four poems.

“Singing My Mind” #1 by Ruan Ji [w/ Audio]

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One sleepless night:
   I sit up to strum my lute.
 The moon shines through thin curtains,
   A gentle breeze rustles my robe.
 A wild goose honks in the wilderness,
   Stirring a cascade of other birdcall.
 I pace and peek out windows --
   Alone, and burdened with sorrows.

“Cavalry Days” by Xin Qiji [w/ Audio]

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Drunk, I'd keep a lamp lit to find my sword,
 The blare of horns sounded throughout the camp.
 Soldiers ate meat under waving banners;
 The military band played boisterous tunes.
 Autumn brought our troops to the battlefield.

Carried by a charger at full gallop,
 My bow thwipped, sending swift arrows flying.
 We restored Imperial lands, boldly,
 And won great fame for fighting gallantly,
 But fame grows thin and gray just like my hair.

“Refined” [Poetry Style #6] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

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Buying fine jade in the springtime,
 Enjoying rain song from within a cabin,
 A taciturn scholar sits betwixt
 Copses of tall, arching bamboo.
Sparse white clouds in a newly clear sky;
 Swallows weave 'round trees in pursuit.
Light through leaf casts a green hue on all;
 Sound of falling water, thin but near;
 Flower petals fall without a sound.
But the man sits unyielding as a mum;
 He writes what the scene dictates
   To make a pithy book.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the sixth of the twenty-four poems.

“Concentrated” [Poetry Style #4] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

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Evergreen woods and a rough-hewn shack.
 The sun sets through clear sky.
 I shed my hat as I walk alone,
   Listening for songbirds.
 No wild geese are flying
   From whence my beloved lives.
 But in my mind, we are close --
   Close enough to touch.
 Dark clouds stand over the sea,
   But in moonlight river isles gleam.
 My eyes and my words stop at
   That great river that sprawls ahead.

NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a translation of the fourth of the twenty-four poems.

“Fortuneteller’s Song” by Liu Yong [w/ Audio]

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The maples have grown old;
 Orchards have begun to wither.
 The reds and greens have faded.
 Climbing the heights, I
   Feel the chill of late Autumn.
 A ceaseless pounding sound
   Drowns out the setting sun.
 Remembered sorrows flock 
   To mind, making new sorrows.
 We are separated 
    By a thousand miles;
 From our two distant places
   We can't even meet in dreams.
 The rain stops, and the sky clears;
   One can see the twelve green peaks.
 Speechless, who could understand
   My angst, as I stand cliffside.
 I can write of my grief, but
   Will the clouds bring a reply?