Posts Tagged ‘ Chinese ’

Mountains smile in spring – The Dewdrop World

春山淡治而如笑
夏山蒼翠而如滴
秋山明浄而如粧
冬山惨淡而如眠

Mountains in spring

— calm and smiling

Mountains in summer

— luxurious and dripping blue green blue

Mountains in autumn

— bright and clean, adorned in color

Mountains in winter

— somber, as if asleep

Guo Xi

Source: Mountains smile in spring – The Dewdrop World

WHAT IS DAOKU? – HOKKU

 

Daoku is a modern brief verse form in three short lines that continues the essential aesthetics of the best of old Japanese objective hokku, adapted to a non-Japanese language context. . . .

Source: WHAT IS DAOKU? – HOKKU

First Known When Lost: Rocks And Stones

In Chinese poetry, one often hears of recluses living in the mountains amidst the rocks and stones and trees and mists and white clouds. They might be Buddhist monks or Taoist adepts or woodcutters. Chinese poets would go in search of them in order to obtain wisdom, but would usually come back without having found them.  They would then write a poem about their journey.

However, a few of the recluses were themselves poets.  They are more circumspect than Coleridge and Wordsworth when it comes to the place of rocks and stones in the larger scheme of things.  They are not fond of abstractions and explanations.  They point things out.

In Reply to Questions

I happened to come to the foot of a pine tree,
lay down and slept soundly on pillows of stone.
There are no calendars here in the mountain;
the cold passes but I don’t know what year it is.

The Recluse T’ai-Shang (T’ang Dynasty; dates of birth and death unknown) (translated by Burton Watson), in Burton Watson, The Columbia Book of Chinese Poetry: From Early Times to the Thirteenth Century (Columbia University Press 1984), page 294.

Source: First Known When Lost: Rocks And Stones

Talk of Sleet | Burn The Water

Walking the edges after rain after rain. I meet the Happy Panda. A Chinese takeaway in Dronfield Woodhouse. I’ve passed it many times but never when open. One man is inside ordering his food by numbers. I like the way the bog standard orange signage is caught in reflection. I don’t go in. It’s hard to believe but my 85 year old mother has never had a Chinese takeaway meal but there’s still time.

talk of sleet
the smell of chicken chow mein
sits behind my eyes

Paul Conneally
Dronfield Woodhouse
12th December 2019

Source: Talk of Sleet | Burn The Water

Cosmos Night: Flood of Light | FOP

from the program for ALN micro-production, Cosmos Night: Flood of Light, risograph zine

Our research and preparation for the project found quite a few examples of human awareness of the material reality that dark exists within light, light exists within dark. Our risograph zine produced for Cosmos Night: Flood of Light is our creative response to these examples. One is the Sandokai, a Chinese poem from the 700s (which we’ve written about before) — [Our project, Turning into the Night, has found a deep a home within the lines of Zen ancestor Shitou’s 1300 year old poem entitled the Sandokai (known in English as the Identity of the Relative and Absolute). We first encountered the poem several years ago. Now, both our project and the increased pressure of the Anthropocene have opened new pathways into two of its lines: “Within light there is darkness, but do not try to understand that darkness; Within darkness there is light, but do not look for that light”. John Daido Loori’s translation (available via Zen Mountain Monastery), in particular links us to the deep, enigmatic roots of Daoism, which conceptualized human existence within evolving planetary limits.] — reads in part: Within light there is darkness, but do not try to understand that darkness; Within darkness there is light, but do not look for that light.”). And, in David Hinton’s translation of a collection of Zen koans (No-Gate Gateway), Case #39, entitled “CLOUD GATE ALL WRONG” begins, “A monk asked Cloud-Gate Mountain, Radiant brilliance silently illuminates this Cosmos vast as Ganges sands…”

We are inspired by the history of humans sitting still, observing, sensing, thinking, and creating in relation to the vast material realities that shape our lives intimately—while using nothing more or less than their brains/bodies/minds.

Cosmos Night: Flood of Light aims to be an occasion where, together with participants, we will empirically experience the 360 degrees of wild, blinding light stretching before us for billions of light-years, and unhinge a few of the names we’ve used to point at (and miss) the wildly unpredictable forces that are neither nameable objects nor binary opposites: night, day, light, dark, sun, moon. We hope to do this in an undistracted state, using the “technologies” of our bodies, the out of doors, the night sky, and aesthetic experience. We hope to gain (re-discover?) an embodied experience of reweaving our selves into the cosmos.

Additional documentation will be posted in October 002019.

 

Source: Cosmos Night: Flood of Light | FOP

Tire Swing Tanka by H. Gene Murtha, NeverEnding Story: One Man’s Maple Moon

even now
decades later
I wait
on the tire swing
hanging in the elm

Biding Time: Selected Poems 2001-2013, 2013

H. Gene Murtha

Chinese Translation (Traditional)

即使幾十年後
的此時此刻
坐在掛在榆樹
的輪胎鞦韆上
我仍在等待

translation by Chen-ou Liu

Source: NeverEnding Story: One Man’s Maple Moon: Tire Swing Tanka by H. Gene Murtha

Bamboo and Plum Blossom: Li Qingzhao (1084-1155)

Li Qingzhao (Li Ching-chao, 1084-1155)

This year with the end of autumn
I find my reflection graying at the temples.
Now that the evening wind is gaining force,
what shall become of the plum blossoms?

Source: Bamboo and Plum Blossom: Li Qingzhao (1084-1155)

Two Recommendations: The Poetry of George Oppen and Larry Eigner | Sibila

 

Two Recommendations: The Poetry of George Oppen and Larry Eigner | Sibila.

a new pain, a tanka by Johannes S. H. Bjerg / NeverEnding Story

English Original

a new pain
in an old place
there is
no “I”
behind the mirror

Johannes S. H. Bjerg

Chinese Translation (Traditional)

新疼痛
在老的部位
鏡子後面
沒有
“我”

 

Johannes S. H. Bjerg

Chen-ou Liu, translation

 

 

 

NeverEnding Story.

Wang Ping Finds Her Voice / Minnesota Original

Wang Ping Finds Her Voice / Minnesota Original

Kinship of Rivers / Writings from the Mississippi