Fuck, I wish I could read Chinese

NOTE: trans by David Hinton

Old pine, what have you learned? Cold,
cold and desolate— who’s your song for?

"Autumn wind clear,

autumn moon bright,

fallen leaves gather in piles,

then scatter,

and crows settling-in,

cold, startle away.

Will we ever see,

ever even think of each other again?

This night, this moment: impossible to feel it all"

What an absolute unit Li Po (Bai) was. Carousing with courtesans, drunkenly stumbling through mountain woods and chilling alone with the moon. A legend. He’s the bad boy of 700 AD China, no doubt. Banished? No prob, just gonna get turnt on chrysanthemum wine and chill on a mountain top.

One gripe I had with the book was I saw an online translation of a poem I liked more than the one in the book:


Ching-T’ing Mountain, Sitting Alone

Book version:

The birds have all vanished into deep skies. The last cloud drifts away, aimless.

Inexhaustible, Ching-t’ing Mountain and I
Gaze at each other, it alone remaining


Online version:

The birds have vanished into the sky
and now the last cloud drains away

We sit together, the mountain and me
Until only the mountain remains

The first of three books lent to me last Fall, Li Po, 701 - 762 was a Chinese poet who I suspect was one of those geniuses who rarely edited. Also known as Li Bai, he has the kind of rough cut to his tongue which suggests or is intended to seem like he is not a man for second guessing.

Li Po's work feels very personal and any emotion or lyric which transcends the moment is thusly pure intention or experience. However to get to that point I found myself struggling through specific geographic and political references. Li Po wrote during the Golden Age of China, and on at least one occasion noted in the text met his younger contemporary Tu Fu.

"The Selected Poems of Li Po" is a masterful curation of the works of Li Bai (also known as Li Po), one of China's most celebrated poets from the Tang Dynasty. What I like most of these poems are how simple they are, yet with profound meaning.

Li Po's reflections on the human condition are equally captivating. For example, in "Alone and Drinking Under the Moon," he confesses,

I raise my cup to invite the moon.
He and my shadow and I make three.

These lines resonate with anyone who has experienced the profound sense of loneliness, yet also find solace in the company of nature.

Clear, short, sublime.
A fascinating look into a historical period, a place, a philosophy, a man.

And just damn good poetry.

taoism is such a great school of thought
i like that these poems are as romantic and unromantic (at the same time) as poetry can get because each one is so short.. i like that the meaning is applied in the margins of the depicted scenery

Sometimes, especially when you're of a mood, and especially if it's POLITICS which has made you of a mood, you need to reach into the Timeless Shelf and get yourself some Li-Po (Li-Bai). The man knew nature.

And wine. And, unfortunately due to his time in China (701-762), war. But let's focus on the nature and the wine, shall we? It may be all that's left after next week's election.


From the first part of the collection covering the early years:

Something Said, Waking Drunk on a Spring Day

It's like boundless dream here in this
world, nothing anywhere to trouble us.

I have, therefore, been drunk all day,
a shambles of sleep on the front porch.

Coming to, I look into the courtyard.
There's a bird among blossoms calling,

and when I ask what season this is,
an oriole's voice drifts on spring winds.

Overcome, verging on sorrow and lament,
I pour another drink. Soon, awaiting

this bright moon, I'm chanting a song.
And now it's over, I've forgotten why.


And from his middle years:

Listening to a Monk's Ch'in Depths

Carrying a ch'in cased in green silk, a monk
descended from O-mei Mountain in the west.

When he plays, even in a few first notes,
I hear the pines of ten thousand valleys,

and streams rinse my wanderer's heart clean.
Echoes linger among temple frost-fall bells,

night coming unnoticed in emerald mountains,
autumn clouds banked up, gone dark and deep.


And from his later years:

Starting Up Three Gorges

Azure heaven pinched between Wu Mountains,
riverwater keeps streaming down like this,

and with riverwater cascading so suddenly
away, we'll never reach that azure heaven.

Three mornings we start up Huang-niu Gorge,
and three nights find we've gone nowhere.

Three mornings and three nights: for once
I've forgotten my hair turning white as silk.

Challenge librero #5

Para ser mi primer poemario asiático todo muy lúcido y bueno. Recomiendo al poeta. Plus: sus mejores versos los redactó alcohólico XD

I love Li Bai, He really touches me.