Showing posts with label tao qian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tao qian. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 14, 2026

Tao Yuanming: Returning to Fields and Gardens

 https://poets.org/poem/returning-fields-and-gardens-i

Returning to Fields and Gardens (I)

Translated from the Mandarin by Arthur Sze

When I was young, I did not fit in
with others, and simply loved the hills and mountains.
By mistake, I fell into the dusty net,
and before I knew it, it was thirty years!
The caged bird longs for the old forest.
The fish in the pond misses the old depths.
I cultivate land along the southern wilds,
and, keeping to simplicity, return to fields and garden.
Ten acres now surround my house;
it is thatched, and has eight, nine rooms.
Elms and willows shade the back eaves.
Peach and plum trees are lined out the front hall.
The distant village is hazy, hazy: and
slender, slender, the smoke hanging over houses.
Dogs bark in the deep lane, and a rooster
crows on top of a mulberry tree.
My house untouched by the dust of the world—
ample leisure in these bare rooms.
I was held so long inside a narrow bird-
cage, but now, at last, can return to nature.

From The Silk Dragon II: Translations of Chinese Poetry by Arthur Sze. Copyright © 2024 by Arthur Sze. Reprinted with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC, on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Wednesday, June 24, 2026

Tao Qian on Acceptance, transience : Tao Qian

 Tao Qian on 



https://poems.mahacinasthana.com/en/gushi/gui-yuan-tian-ju-v/


RETURN TO NATURE (V)

Melancholy, I come back, staff in hand,
Going alone the rugged bushy way.
In mountain crooks shallow and clear I stand
And wash my feet where a moment I stay.
At home I strain my newly-ripened wine,
Cook a chicken and with neighbors share it.
My room turns dark when there's no more sunshine,
Branches are burned instead of candle lit.
So joyful we're that we find short the night;
Soon in the east we see the first sunlight.


------

Interpretation

Composed around 405 CE, this fifth and concluding poem of Tao Yuanming's "Returning to Dwell in Gardens and Fields" series captures the most unassuming day in pastoral life. From returning from labor to sharing drinks with neighbors, every mundane moment becomes poetic. The work not only portrays the authentic reality of reclusive living but also expresses the poet's profound appreciation for this serene simplicity, culminating in a transcendent perspective that elevates the entire series.

First Couplet: "怅恨独策还,崎岖历榛曲。"
Chàng hèn dú cè huán, qíqū lì zhēn qū.
Melancholic, alone with my staff I return, treading thorn-choked winding paths.
The opening "melancholic" reveals complex emotions—weariness from labor and unspoken reflections on turbulent times. The rugged path mirrors life's difficulties during this historical period.

Second Couplet: "山涧清且浅,可以濯吾足。"
Shān jiàn qīng qiě qiǎn, kěyǐ zhuó wú zú.
Mountain streams run clear and shallow—here I wash my dust-laden feet.
This pause in the journey symbolizes spiritual purification. The simple act of foot-washing becomes a ritual of returning to nature's purity.

Third Couplet: "漉我新熟酒,只鸡招近局。"
Lù wǒ xīn shú jiǔ, zhī jī zhāo jìn jú.
Filtering my newly brewed wine, with one chicken I invite nearby friends.
The poet's humble hospitality—homemade wine and a single fowl—embodies authentic rural generosity and contentment in modest means.

Fourth Couplet: "日入室中暗,荆薪代明烛。"
Rì rù shì zhōng àn, jīng xīn dài míng zhú.
Sunset darkens my cottage—bramble faggots substitute for bright candles.
"Bramble faggots" epitomize resourceful simplicity, transforming material lack into spiritual abundance through mindful acceptance.

Fifth Couplet: "欢来苦夕短,已复至天旭。"
Huān lái kǔ xī duǎn, yǐ fù zhì tiān xù.
Joy makes night seem fleeting—suddenly dawn's light returns.
The bittersweet lament over night's brevity paradoxically celebrates the fullness found in simple pleasures, where temporal measures dissolve in contentment.

Holistic Appreciation

The poem traces a complete diurnal cycle from twilight return to morning's arrival through vivid, unembellished snapshots. Each gesture—foot-washing, neighborly hospitality, makeshift lighting—reveals profound satisfaction in elemental living. The closing dawn symbolizes both daily renewal and the poet's enlightened perspective, where material lack cannot diminish spiritual wealth.

Returning to Fields and Gardens (I) by Tao Yuanming (Tao Qian) - Accepting transience

 Tao Qian

https://poets.org/poem/returning-fields-and-gardens-i


Returning to Fields and Gardens (I)

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Translated from the Mandarin by Arthur Sze

When I was young, I did not fit in
with others, and simply loved the hills and mountains.
By mistake, I fell into the dusty net,
and before I knew it, it was thirty years!
The caged bird longs for the old forest.
The fish in the pond misses the old depths.
I cultivate land along the southern wilds,
and, keeping to simplicity, return to fields and garden.
Ten acres now surround my house;
it is thatched, and has eight, nine rooms.
Elms and willows shade the back eaves.
Peach and plum trees are lined out the front hall.
The distant village is hazy, hazy: and
slender, slender, the smoke hanging over houses.
Dogs bark in the deep lane, and a rooster
crows on top of a mulberry tree.
My house untouched by the dust of the world—
ample leisure in these bare rooms.
I was held so long inside a narrow bird-
cage, but now, at last, can return to nature.

From The Silk Dragon II: Translations of Chinese Poetry by Arthur Sze. Copyright © 2024 by Arthur Sze. Reprinted with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC, on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Thursday, February 20, 2020

In Reply to Mulberry-Bramble Liu-- Tao Qian (T'ao Ch'ien), 5th CE

This poem from Mountain Home: the Wilderness poetry of ancient China, selected and translated by David Hinton, published by Counterpoint Washington DC in the year 2002 ISBN +1-058-243-1493

This poem written by Tao Ch'ien (Tao Qian, 5th ce)
titled "In reply to Mulberry-Bramble Liu"


In this meager home, guests rare, 
I often forget I'm surrounded by turning seasons.

And now falling leaves litter courtyard emptiness 
I grow sadder realizing it's Autumn already. 
Fresh sunflower thickets fill north windows 
Sweet grains in south fields ripen. 

Though I'm far from happy, I know next year may never come. 

"Get the kids together," I call to my wife,
"it's a perfect day for a nice long walk."