Tag Archives: Tang Dynasty Poetry

“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.

“Placid” [Poetry Style #2] by Sikong Tu [w/ Audio]

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It thrives in silence and with calm --
   ephemeral and gossamer.
 It's ever-flowing harmony,
   gliding with a solitary crane,
   wisping like the gentle breezes
      that rustle and billow one's robe,
   trilling softly like a bamboo flute.
 How does one become one with it?
   A chance meeting, lucked into, but
      don't lunge forward, or it'll vanish.
 When you think it's attainable,
   it twists in your hand and is gone.

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 second of the twenty-four poems.

“Written While Moored on the Qinhuai River” by Du Mu [w/ Audio]

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Mist touches cold water and moon embraces the sand.

   I’m moored for the night near a tavern on the Qinhuai.

   The singing girl doesn’t know the empire is in bitter ruin.

   Across the river I hear her singing “Blossom of the Inner Court.”

Translation: Barnstone, Tony and Ping, Chou. 2005. The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry: From Ancient to Contemporary. New York: Anchor Books.

“Seeking a Hermit-Sage in Vain” by Jia Dao [w/ Audio]

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I question a local boy under a pine.
 He says, "Teacher is gathering herbs
          right here on the mountain...
 But who can say where?
 The mountain is thick with clouds."

“On Laozi” by Bai Juyi [w/ Audio]

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"The ignorant speak, while the wise keep silent."
 I read the words of Laozi.
 But if Laozi knew the Way,
 Why did he write those five thousand characters?

“Night Rain” by Bai Juyi [w/ Audio]

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Chirp of an early cricket. Silence.
 The lamp dies then flares up again.
 Night must be raining outside the window:
     plink, plink on the banana leaves.

Translation: Barnstone, Tony and Ping, Chou. 2005. The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry: From Ancient to Contemporary. New York: Anchor Books.

The Painting by Wang Wei [w/ Audio]

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Afar, colorful mountains.
 Near, silent waters.
 Spring 's gone but flowers remain.
 People come but birds aren't startled.
Original:

遠看山有色
近聽水無聲
春去花還在
人來鳥不驚

Drinking Alone by Moonlight by Li Bai [w/ Audio]

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A pot of wine, under blossoms.
   I drink alone, no friends in sight.
 I raise a cup to lustrous Moon:
   Me, Moon, and Shadow will make three.
 But Moon is a teetotaler.
   And Shadow just skulks at my feet.
 Still, Moon & Shadow are my chums.
   We need a bash before Spring's end.
 But my singing makes Moon recoil.
   And Shadow flops hard when I dance.
 At first, we have a grand old time,
   But we part ways when I drift off.
 We should keep this epic friendship rolling,
   and meet again in the River of Stars.

NOTE: I produced this “translation” / arrangement, using translations by Arthur Waley, Ezra Pound, and that of “The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry” [ed. by Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping] to get varied takes on the source poem.