Thursday 7 July 2011

Fantasia of Life (Lin Yutang)

Ingredients:
This is an edited version of poems selected and translated from Chinese by Lin Yutang, which all share a certain quality of understanding of life, reminiscent of Fitzgerald’s "Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam".


Directions:
Liu Chienfu

O, have you heard of that immortal quest,
Five hundred virgins for a king’s behest,
Where are they? Where the potion Yenti promised?
Their eyes closed, and Laozi’s too like all the rest.


Teng Chingyang

We are but passing guests from who knows where.
Say not thy home is here, thy home is there.
It suits me well wherever I may be;
The flowers bloom here and there and everywhere.


Chuehwen

What rich fields of gold below yonder hill.
A newcomer harvests what others till.
Rejoice not, dear newcomer, at your turn —
There waits behind a new newcomer still.


Shin Yu-An

The one who’s drunk shares liberally his smiles,
He does away with foolish masks and guiles
From him I’ve lately come to realize
Spurn bookish wisdom and ambitious wiles.


Su Tungpo

O speckless the clear moon, silvery the night!
When you fill thy cup, be sure to fill it quite!
Strive not for frothy fame, nor for bubbling wealth:
A passing dream —
A flashing flint —
A shadow’s flight!

O what is knowledge, fine and ultra-fine?
To joys simple and innocent resign!
When I go home, I’ll carry on my back
A pile of clouds —
A sweet-toned lyre —
A pot of wine.


Tung Chungfeng

I love my bamboo hut, by water surrounded,
Reached on either side by stepping stones well-grounded.
A quiet peaceful study, small but fine:
Ensconced so cozy —
So delightful —
So well-rounded.

No marble halls, no tall vermillion towers
Are quite as good as my secluded bowers.
The lawn with buttercups embroidered
Greets me in the cloudy morn —
Or when it shines —
Or when it showers.

A short low wall with windows hid by trees;
A tiny little pond myself to please;
And there upon its shady rocky banks:
A pretty girl —
A pale moon —
A soft breeze.

And how about this quiet life to lead?
A balcony to sit without a need
And earn from moon and flowers a peaceful hour
And have some friendly chats —
Some fine incense —
Some books to read.

For household use, some furniture decrepit.
Suffice with hills and water so exquisite.
When guests arrive, to set the perfect scene:
Put on the kettle —
Brew the tea —
And let us sip it.

O sweep the yard, but spare the mossy spots
Let petals speck thy stones with purple dots
And in a painting, what’s more wonderful:
Some pine trees —
And bamboos —
And apricots.

Let bloom in order pear and peach and cherry!
The morrow lies with God, so pick the berry;
Who knows but what and when the future holds?
But let’s be wise —
Be content —
Be merry!

When a friend arrives whom thou hast long admired,
Since by idle nothings you are both inspired,
Ask them to stay for a good carefree half-day:
And drink when happy —
Sing when drunk —
Sleep when tired.

A quiet home far from the hustling crowds;
Let not the trivial things thy mind becloud.
Be happy and never disenchanted,
Do not be fussy —
Nor selfish —
Nor proud.

Obey God’s will, and wait on Heaven’s pleasure.
Thy purity of heart alone do treasure.
Enough the library and the flowers’ court
For a life of peace —
And contentment —
And leisure.

10 comments:

  1. Umm, this is nice. A little sexist in composition.
    I suppose I should write verse about 'a serving boy,'
    fanning me as I discuss matters with my friends,
    and then have a virgin boy served to me after desert.

    We become 'so used' to the male platform, that we
    cannot rightly see the imbalance in the playing field.
    Was not the Rubaiyat about actual 'love?' It has been awhile.

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  2. The five hundred virgins were sent in exchange for a potion of immortality, but the potion never came. The ancient world had a bit of a tradition of kings exchanging virgins of both genders, but the males were eunuchs. The author of this fantasia selection is male of course and pretty quaint.

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  3. Maybe it's a bit morbid to say it, but the common theme it seems to me is not love, but death, and dying peacefully.

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  4. Wow!..Golden thoughts there are...
    Like this best among the bests --

    "Su Tungo

    O speckless the clear moon, silvery the night!
    When you fill thy cup, be sure to fill it quite!
    Strive not for frothy fame, nor for bubbling wealth:
    A passing dream —
    A flashing flint —
    A shadow’s flight!

    O what is knowledge, fine and ultra-fine?
    To joys simple and innocent resign!
    When I go home, I’ll carry on my back
    A pile of clouds —
    A sweet-toned lyre —
    A pot of wine."

    oooooooh, wait wait wait! love that girl (picture) too... as one of the bests. *grin*

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  5. Wow! Lin Yutang also said that was his single favourite poem of all Chinese poetry. I don't know who the picture's by...trying to find out.

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  6. Plato said that philosophy is the study of death.

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  7. That seems to be the essence of his Phaedo. Life comes from death and truth survives death. But I would understand that by death and life of each moment, and not necessarity physical death which I don't think we can study, despite Plato's attempt.

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  8. That poem is by Su Tungpo. Sorry for the typo!

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