Window on Chinese Poetry |
Collection Three |
"Song of the Arrowhead at Changping" By Li Ho (790-816) Black spots like coal, white ones like bone ash, red like desert sand; a coppery pattern of ancient blood stains stands out. The weather of the years has destroyed the golden shaft and white feather, so there remains only the three-edged arrowhead like a wolf's tooth. Over the plain our two horses plod east of the remount station, on through the stony buckwheat fields against an unceasing wind. The winter day is short, and the stars come out. Strips of cloud, like black flags, stream through the wide night sky. The spirits of the dead seem all around us, so we stop, make offerings of milk and soup. The insects have become silent, but wild geese are crying amongst the gleaming red reeds. A wind springs up again and blows the gloaming fire, a sign to bid me farewell, and I reflect on looking for relics over so wide a space, finding only this arrowhead, then think how horribly it must have sped, swiftly cutting and piercing living flesh. On his horse comes a boy from the city, lightly advising me to buy a shaft to make it a complete arrow again. Adapted from the translation by Rewi Alley |
My Comment This extraordinary poem was written many centuries ago yet has a breadth of knowledge and wisdom that makes it seem so modern. In a sense it is about archaeology: finding traces of historic events and speculating about what happened. It adds the poet's perspective, with that wonderfully expressed insight into the actual suffering of the "target" of the arrow. Finally, the boy's flippant and cheerful ignorance puts another layer over the top. It makes you think that the lessons of history will only be learnt by a few special people and the rest of us will be doomed to repeat historical tragedies. Merv Daw |
"A palace poem" by Gu Kuang High above, from a jade chamber, songs float half-way to heaven. The palace-girls' happy voices are mingled with the wind - But now they are still, and you hear a water-clock drip in the Court of the Moon.... They have opened the curtain wide, and are facing the River of Stars. Note: the River of Stars is the Chinese expression for what is known in English as the Milky Way. Adapted from a translation by Witter Bynner |
My Comment What can keep these happy, sociable court women quiet? It is the sight that has stilled most people in a sort of reverence at certain times: the sight of the stars blazing away brilliantly in a black sky. I like the part about the water clock dripping in the moonlight. It is the sort of quiet background sound that is finally heard and appreciated when human voices are quietened. Another fine touch is the idea of the songs mingling with the wind and carrying a long way in the night, "half-way to heaven." Merv Daw |
"A Buddhist retreat behind Broken Mountain Temple" by Chang Jian In the pure morning, near the old temple, where early sunlight points the tree-tops, my path has wound, through a sheltered hollow of boughs and flowers, to a Buddhist retreat. Here birds are alive with mountain-light, the mind of man touches peace in a pool, and a thousand sounds are quieted by the breathing of a temple-bell. Adapted from a translation by Witter Bynner |
My Comment Don't you love this walk through the trees on a fresh morning? The morning is "pure", new and untouched. The early sun highlights the tips of the trees. The new light on the mountain brings the birds "alive". The soft, winding path and the "sheltered hollow of boughs and flowers" are very easy to imagine. All of these things make you think of the writer's delight in the beauty of the morning. I think it is a very restful, peaceful poem. The clear, still surface of the pool allows people to "touch" peace, no matter how briefly. The last image of the "breathing" of the temple-bell is really clever at suggesting the soft, delicate, brushing sound the bell makes. It is not ringing or chiming, just gently "breathing". After reading the poem, I just feel like saying, "Thanks, Chang Jian, for sharing the beauty and peace of the moment with me." Merv Daw |
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from "Entertaining literary men in my official residence on a rainy day" by Wei Yingwu "When the mind is exalted, the body is lightened and feels as if it could float in the wind." Adapted from a translation by Witter Bynner |
My Comment Beautifully put! And so true. Merv Daw |
"Strips of cloud, like black flags, stream through the wide night sky." |
| "...a thousand sounds are quieted by the breathing of a temple-bell." |