Ascending to the Blue Dragon Temple (by Wang Wei)

Late this morning we had a power outage in the neighborhood.  I noticed a truck from our local utility parked just in front of my neighbor Lucille’s giant beech tree.  Forced to power down I took the opportunity to look for a poem to translate.  I settled on this one by Wang Wei about his ascent to the Blue Dragon Temple to visit a certain Chan Master Cao – appropriately enough about his own powering down in a slightly different way.

It’s not an easy poem to translate – the phrasing is dense and opaque, and full of dharma references.  After struggling with my translation I looked to David Hinton’s version in his fine book (The selected poems of Wang Wei) and found considerable difference between his rendering and my own.  Live and learn.

I am going to email David now and ask him for permission to post his translation immediately below my own.

On a Summer's Day 
Ascending to the Blue Dragon Temple
 To Visit Chan Master Cao

A tired old man

I slowly ascend

To the temple

To meditate there

Yearning to learn more

About life’s deepest meanings

To contemplate emptiness

However imperfectly

To understand Nothing

Mountains and rivers

And Heaven’s pure vistas

May be seen either by means

Of inner or outer vision

Living in the world

Following Buddha’s teaching

Pursuing the Middle Way

None shall be condemned

To suffer torments in Hell

But instead shall be reborn

Of earth and wind

夏日过青龙寺谒操禅师

龙钟一老翁    徐步谒禅宫
欲问义心义     遥知空病空
山河天眼里     世界法身中
莫怪销炎热     能生大地风

Backyard Surrender

for Carrie

In our backyard

Two days leeward

Of July's full moon

It's as if our little lot

Overnight had been

Transported to the

South of France

The season is now

Full upon us

The garlic scapes explore

The curvature of space

While the hydrangeas

Bob and weave

In a steadying breeze

The blueberries have

Formed their minyan

And the maple saplings

Davin to and fro

There is no choice now

But to surrender

To the utter sufficiency

Of the green world

So devoutly at ease

Photo by C. Welch

Abundance in the Everyday (T'ao Yuan-ming)

I made the mistake of staying up last night to watch part of Trump's acceptance speech.  It agitated me tremendously and made it difficult to fall asleep, just imagining four years of this bombast about making America great.  To cleanse my spirit and set things straight this morning I decided to translate another short poem by T'ao Yuan-ming - these calming words being the best antidote I could imagine for all the countless hours of bilious rhetoric.

Oh from early years

Down to the present day

I pursued a plain

And humble way

As years flowed by  

Industry did little

To improve my lot

My ambition became simply   

To retain what I’d already gotten

Content with abundance in the everyday

Though in truth my heart remains prone

To distress and inner craving

其三

嗟予小子

禀兹固陋

徂年既流

业不增旧

志彼不舍

安此日富

我之怀矣

怛焉内疚

When the Heart is Remote (T'ao Yuan-ming)

Another great poem from T'ao Yuan-ming ...

Building my house

On the outskirts of town

Yet no noisy traffic bothers me

You wonder how this can be

When the heart is remote

The world leans the same way

When picking mums

Along the eastern fence

I gaze up at the eastern ranges

At my leisure

Day and night

The mountain air so clear

And when the birds fly

Home in their flock

In their midst

I see a true ideal

Though in expressing it

Words fail me

结庐在人境

而无车马喧

问君何能尔

心远地自偏

采菊东篱下

悠然见南山

山气日夕佳

飞鸟相与还

此中有真意

欲辨已忘言

This verse is part of a longer series of poems called Drinking Wine.  But I think it stands on its own quite beautifully.  The way T'ao describes his hut on the outskirts of town reminds me a bit of my own backyard, just a few blocks from a major roadway, and yet now, when the garden is in full bloom, it feels a world removed.  And I just love that couplet - when the heart is remote/the world leans the same way.   

Hitching up the Chariot of Fame

I find myself increasingly drawn to the poetry of T'ao Yuan-ming of the Six Dynasties period.  Known as the hermit poet, he writes with a wry and ironic sensibility about his withdrawal from society.  Despite his clear rejection of Confucian mores, he nonetheless acknowledges their deep impress on his spirit, and his poetry reflects his continuing attempt to define the poet's proper connection both to society and the natural world.  Even after resigning from government service, and retiring to his farmstead to write poetry, he seems to concede that he is pursuing a larger ambition and striving to distinguish himself in his own way.  Given that he lived from 365 to 427 AD, there's a remarkable humor and sophistication in the way he describes his motivations as a writer, as is evident in the following verse, which is part of a longer poem called A Tree in Blossom.

Old masters instruct us

From the grave

Exactly how it is

We’re supposed to behave

And by the age of 40 they say

One already should have

Achieved a well-known name

But unworried by any such lacking 

I’m still scheming to ride off one day

On a noble steed and chariot of fame

A thousand miles may lie ahead

But who dares not to keep trying

All the same

其四

先师遗训

余岂坠

四十无闻

斯不足畏

脂我名车

策我名骥

千里虽遥

孰敢不至

Part of what draws me to T'ao's poetry is his continuing ambivalence in his withdrawal from society and rejection of the prevailing Confucian orthodoxy.  He turns his back on the social conventions of his day and yet embraces them in his own independent way.

I'll be publishing my translation of the complete poem from which this verse is extracted in the next issue of the Tang Spirit Newsletter, so please click here sign up for your free subscription if you're interested in reading more.