Chinese 323 Visiting a Friend (3)

Heidi's Selection:

Zuo Si/Tso Ssu (d. circa 306)

"Summoning the Recluse"

 

No. 2

 

I built my hut upon the Eastern mountains,

Where nuts fall down and grow into hazel-trees.

In front of it is a well of icy water,

In which one can refresh one's heart and soul.

Among these fresh and brilliant blues and emeralds,

Bamboo and cypress realize their true nature.

Their tender leaves are hung with frost and snow,

But from their soaring verdure water drips.

Rank and robes are but uncertain pleasures,

You must bend or stretch as times are good or ill.

Knotting the girdle may tangle you in troubles,

Tapping your hat remove you from dirt and dust.

Hui and Lian are not my idea of humility,

Nor Shouyang mountain my idea of love.

Let us compare the different ideals we have,

Some lucky morning I'll go wandering away.

 

(Frodsham, An Anthology of Chinese Verse, p.95)

 

Kelley's Selection:

Tao Qian/T'ao Ch'ien (365-427)

"In Reply to Adviser Pang"

I have repeatedly read over the poem you so kindly sent, unable to put it down. Since we became neighbors a winter and a spring ago, we have been on good terms, and now all at once we have become fast friends. The saying goes, "Frequent meetings make friends," but ours is a closer tie than that. Human affairs are inclined to go awry, and here we are talking about an impending separation. This is what Master Yang exclaimed against--it is no conventional complaint. For many years I have been in ill health, and for a long time have not written anything. I was never a prolific writer, and now old age and disease have done their work; but still I must follow the prescription in the Book of Rites about repaying social obligations. What is more, it will give you something to remember me by after you have gone.

 

Good friends need not be old acquaintances

Our experience proves the point.

I have a guest who likes the things I like;

He always comes to see my grove and garden.

Our conversation has no vulgar tone--

We talk about the ancient Sage's books.

And if we happen to have some bottles of wine

We amuse ourselves with leisured drinking.

I have become a confirmed recluse,

And have no reason to go west or east.

Of things, the new, of friends the old are best;

A great deal can be said in writing, and thus

My love will reach you a thousand miles away

Although my body is bound by hills and streams.

Take good care of your precious self--who knows

Whether we will ever meet again?

 

(James Hightower, The Poetry of T'ao Ch'ien, pp. 67-8.)

 

Adeline's Selection:

Meng Haoran/Meng Hao-jan (689-740)

"Spending the Night at the Hillside Lodge of Master Ye and Waiting for My Friend Ding, Who Does Not Arrive"

 

The evening sun sets beyond the western ranges,

And in a moment, all of the valleys grow dark.

The moonlit pines bring forth the cool of night,

Wind and running water fill my clean hearing.

Soon the woodsmen will be back in their homes;

Birds find their roosts now in the misty trees.

It is you that has not come by the time agreed;

And I wait alone with my lute in the vine-grown lane.

 

(Tr. Daniel Bryant, in Liu and Lo, ed., Sunflower Splendor, p. 95)

 

Julia's Selection:

Meng Haoran/Meng Hao-jan (689-740)

"Waiting for Ding Eldest at the mountain hut of Master Laigong."

 

The westering sun passes beyond the hills;

Darkness creeps over each ravine and gully.

The moon above the pines sends a chill through the night;

In the breeze the fountain hums a jolly tune.

 

The woodcutters have long left the woods;

The tardiest bird is back on its perch;

You, my friend, have kept me waiting in vain

Alone with my guitar among the creepers by the path.

 

(H.C. Chang, Chinese Literature 2: Nature Poetry, p. 94.)

 

Travis' Selection:

Monk Jiaoran/Chiao-Jan (730-799)

"Looking for Lu Hongjian but Failing to Find Him"

 

You've moved to a house backing the outer wall;

I reach it by wild paths through mulberry and hemp.

Along the fence chrysanthemums newly set out

4have yet to bloom, though autumn's here.

I pound the gate but no dog barks.

About to go, I ask at the house next door;

they tell me you're up in the hills,

never come home till the sun is low.

 

(Burton Watson, The Columbia Book of Chinese Poetry, p. 277.)

 

Catherine's Selection:

Jia Dao/Chia Tao (779?-843)

"Written on the Road While Taking Recent Compositions to Zhang Ji and Han Yu"

 

In my sleeves I have poems, recently composed,

Wishing to show them to the venerable Han and Zhang.

No wings grow on the green bamboo mailing tubes,

So I took one step on that thousand mile road.

Looking up, I gazed on the dark blue sky,

Clouds and snow press down on my brain.

I've lost Mount Zhongnan,

And sorrow fills my heart.

How can I get a northwest wind?--

My body wants to change to a tumbleweed.

The earth gods hearing these words,

Will burst forth, startling me upside down.

 

(Stephen Owen, The Poetry of Meng Chiao and Han Yü, pp. 241.)

 

Valerie's Selection:

Bo Juyi/Bai Juyi/Po Chü-i (772-846)

"Being Visited by a Friend During Illness"

 

I have been ill so long that I do not count the days;

At the southern window, evening--and again evening.

Sadly chirping in the grasses under my eaves

The winter sparrows morning and evening sing.

By an effort I rise and lean heavily on my bed;

Tottering I step towards the door of the courtyard.

By chance I meet a friend who is coming to see me;

Just as if I had gone specially to meet him.

They took my couch and placed it in the setting sun;

They spread my rug and I leaned on the balcony-pillar.

Tranquil talk was better than any medicine;

Gradually the feelings came back to my numbed heart.

 

(Arthur Waley, A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems, p. 223)