Off-Hand Poem

Off-Hand Poem

by Wang An-shih 

Translated by David Hinton

It’s a blessing, the ten thousand things
spoken. Don’t forget even a single line,

for I’m sending in these words a place
far from this loud world of confusion.

Wang An-shih (1021–1086 C.E.) was a remarkable figure — not only one of the great Sung Dynasty poets, but also the most influential and controversial statesman of his time. In his retirement, practicing Ch’an (Zen) Buddhism and wandering the mountains around his home, Wang An-shih wrote the poems that made his reputation. Short and plainspoken, these late poems contain profound multitudes — the passing of time, the rivers and mountains, silence and Buddhist emptiness. They won him wide acclaim in China and beyond across the centuries. And in David Hinton’s breathtaking translations, Wang feels like a major contemporary poet with deep ecological insight and a questioning spirit.

While not in the exalted ranks of such Chinese poets as Li Po, Tu Fu, Wang Wei, Wang’s poetry possesses the power to transport the reader to another time and place, far from our own “loud world.” How beautifully the poet echoes the strength of a relationship and its place in this world of confusion.

Midsummer Festival, Wandering Up as Far as the Monastery

Midsummer Festival, Wandering Up as Far as the Monastery

By by Su Tung-P'o

Translated from the Chinese by David Hinton

I was going wherever I happened to go,
giving myself over to whatever I met

when incense drew my recluse steps to
mats spread open and pure, tea poured.

Light rain delayed my return, quiet
mystery outside window lovelier still:

bowl-dome summits blocking out sun,
grasses and trees turned shadowy green

Climbing quickly to the highest shrine,
I gazed out across whole Buddha-realms,

city walls radiant beneath Helmet Peak
and cloudy skies adrift in Tremor Lake.

Such joy in all this depth and clarity,
such freedom in wide-open mountains,

my recluse search wasn’t over when dusk
cook-smoke rose above distant villages.

Back home now, this day held in mind
shines bright and clear. I can’t sleep,

and those monks are sleeping awake too
sharing a lamp’s light in ch’an stillness

How often we wish to go wherever our feet take us and see whatever we wanted to see? The poet has written this poem after such a solitary walk among a mountainous province. The joy of resting in a wayside tavern with tea and watching the surrounds, mountain peaks and Buddhist monasteries, its stillness serenity, are captured in all its richness in this poem. The reader senses as if he had taken a walk with the poet. The poet feels so energized and invigorated by what he has seen that he can’t even sleep when he is back home.

Su Tung-P'o (1037-1101), one of the greatest poets of Sung Dynasty, was a civil servant who traveled to numerous political posts throughout the state. Hence, much of his poetry is a catalogue of his travels--their diverse landscapes, inhabitants, songs and folklore. With his lyrical precision and astonishing eye for detail, Su Tung-P'o renders the Chinese countryside and mountain landscape with a vivid particularity as evidenced in this poem.

Note: Ch’an is Chinese translation of the Sanskrit word ‘Dhyana’ or meditation

Source: Mountain Home: The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China By David Hinton