— by Tao Yuanming (Jin Dynasty) Prince Dan of Yan was skilled at nurturing brave retainers,With a will to take vengeance against the mighty Qin.He gathered the finest among a hundred men,And at the year’s end, he found Master Jing.A gentleman dies for his soulmate;Drawing his sword, he departed from the capital of Yan.White…
— by Tao Yuanming (Jin Dynasty) Rare are worldly affairs in the wild countryside;Few are the carriages in these desolate lanes.By broad daylight, I close my brushwood gate;In this empty room, all earthly thoughts are banished.Sometimes, amidst the rural paths,I push aside the tall grass to visit my neighbors.When we meet, there is no…
The Body, Shadow, and Spirit is a series of five-character-per-line poems. The first poem features the Body addressing the Shadow: while the physical forms of heaven, earth, mountains, and rivers endure forever, and grass and trees can regenerate even after withering, the human body is destined to die and vanish. Therefore, one should seize…
The Spirit Explains The great Creator acts without partiality;The myriad principles of the universe are clearly manifested.Of the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and Man),Is it not because of me, the Spirit, that humanity exists?Though I am a different entity from you two,We are bound together as long as we live.Since our fates are intertwined,How…
This poem is the first in a famous three-poem series where Tao Yuanming personifies three aspects of human existence: the physical Body, the Shadow, and the Spirit. This structure is deeply influenced by Buddhist and Daoist philosophical debates of the Wei-Jin period regarding the nature of the soul and the afterlife.
The white sun sinks into the western river;The pale moon rises over the eastern ridge.For ten thousand miles, its boundless radiance gleams;Vast and clear, a brilliant expanse fills the sky.The wind sweeps through the doors and windows;In the dead of night, my pillow and mat grow cold.Sensing the changing air, I realize the seasons…
The autumn chrysanthemums bloom in splendid hues;Dew-kissed, I pluck their petals.I steep them in this sorrow-forgetting brew,To distance myself from worldly cares.Though I drink this cup alone,When the cup is empty, the pot pours on its own.As the sun sets, all bustling life comes to rest,And homeward-bound birds fly to the woods, singing.Beneath my…