Introduction
When a classic poem works it transports us into the past. One can almost ‘be there’ with the poet and, in a sense, feel their feelings and see what they see.
The following selections recently caught my eye.
They’re all in English translation and some may say that’s a shortcoming but if a passage speaks to a reader, it’s a moot point whether translated verse if ‘legit’ or not.
One could say that translated texts are part of the Big Picture and previous versions in other languages are not necessarily of greater value.
Some scholars and so-called cultured folk might be too intellectually regimented to appreciate this perspective. They might also be unaware of postmodern theories about language, specifically, ideas of connotation and endless chains of signification–i.e. open-ended meanings which depend in large part on the reader.
And here theologians could add another factor influencing perceived or interpreted meanings of a text, this being the indwelling of the numinous.
While some traditional scholars dogmatically insist on the importance of original languages, we would also do well to remember that language prowess has been used by unscrupulous elites for centuries to oppress the so-called ‘great unwashed’ and marginalize individuals perceived as a threat to prevailing power structures, be these religious, regal or scholastic.
Arrogant linguists call to mind an image of technicians working on the space shuttle. They do a specialized job and must do it well. But it takes an altogether different kind of expert to actually fly a shuttle mission.
This kind of analogy, however, only takes us so far.
First of all, a great number of linguists are humble, innovative and use their abilities honorably. Sincerely delighting in the subtle nuances of different languages, such persons have a wonderful gift and developed ability.1
Moreover, just about any interested reader might ‘travel,’ if you will, through space and time via translated verse, not just a specialized few as with the shuttle analogy.
The writers highlighted below are no strangers to the arrogance of second-rate thinkers and, more generally, to the bright and dark colors of existence.
Ancient and medieval people knew all about war, intrigue, betrayal, poverty and broken hearts. But amidst all that, their hearts yearned for goodness and beauty. And their perception of life often brought profound insights into the nature of time, eternity and the human self.
Part I
From the Meditations of Ma’arri al-Ma’arri, circa 973-1057 CE
In the casket of the Hours
Events deep-hid.
Wait on their guardian Powers
To raise the lid.
And the Maker infinite,
Whose poem is Time,
He need not weave in it
A forced stale rhyme
The Nights pass so,
Voices dumb,
Without sense quick or slow
Of what shall come.
* * *
From the Shakuntala Kálidása, circa 5th century CE
It is natural that the first sight of the King’s capital
should affect you in this manner;
my own sensations are very similar.
As one just bathed beholds the man polluted;
As one late purified, the yet impure:-
As one awake looks on the yet unawakened;
Or as the freeman gazes on the thrall,
So I regard this crowd of pleasure-seekers.
* * *
Yakamochi from the Manyo Shu, compiled 760 CE
[These] meetings in dreams,
How sad they are!
When, waking up startled
One gropes about,-
And there is no contact to the hand.
* * *
The Priest Hakutsū from the Manyo Shu, circa 704 CE
O pine-tree standing
At the [side of] the stone house,
When I look at you,
It is like seeing face to face
The men of old time.
* * *
Looking in the Lake Po Chu-I, 772-846 CE
I look at my shadow over and over in the lake;
I see no white face, only the white hair,
I have lost my youth, and shall never find it again.
Unless to stir the lake-water!
* * *
The Girls of Yueh Li Po, 701?-762 CE
The jade faces of the girls on Yueh Stream,
Their dusky brows, their red skirts,
Each wearing a pair of golden spiked sandals-
O, their feet are white like frost.
* * *
The Girl of Yueh Li Po
She is gathering lotos-seed in the river of Yueh.
While singing, she sees a stranger and turns around;
Then she smiles and hides among the lotos-leaves,
Pretending to be overcome by shyness.
* * *
A Song of War Li Po
Before the Peak of Returning Joy the sand was like snow,
Outside the surrendered city the moon was like frost.
I do not know who blew the horns at night,
But all night long the boys looked towards their homes.
Selections in Part I from A Treasury of Asian Literature, ed. John D. Yohannan. New York: Meridian, 1984.
Part II
A Simple Rustic You Seemed Wu-Chi Liu from the Book of Poetry, 10th to 6th centuries BCE
Three years I was your wife,
I never tired of household chores.
Early I rose and late I went to bed;
Not a morning was I without work.
First you found fault with me,
Then treated me with violence.
My brothers, not knowing this,
Jeered and laughed at me.
Quietly I brooded over it
And myself I pity.
* * *
Tales of Ise Collection from unknown Japanese authors, 10th century
Priestess at shrine:
Did you come here?
Or did I go to you?
I cannot recall,
was it a dream or was it real?
Was I awake or was I asleep?
Young man:
In utter darkness
my heart is clouded
and I am lost.
Was it dream or was it real?
You will have to decide.
* * *
I’d like to include one modern selection from a Pakistani poet-philosopher:
The Caravan Bell Muhammad Iqbal 1877-1938*
In bondage life shrinks to a rivulet;
in freedom, a boundless ocean.
Selections in Part II (adapted*) from Great Literature of the Eastern World, ed. Ian P. McGreal. New York: HarperCollins, 1996.
Part III
Within countless compendiums of Asian literature, standing out are Han-Shan’s Cold Mountain poems.
Han-Shan was a wanderer during the Tang Dynasty, 627-650 CE. Gary Snyder says “he is a mountain madman in an old Chinese line of ragged hermits.” But Lu Ch’iu-yin sketches a more reasonable picture by saying “No one knows just what sort of man Han-Shan was.”
Living at a place called Cold Mountain, he was known to appear at Kuo-ch’ing temple, where one of the local monks fed him scraps of food concealed in a bamboo tube. Once when other monks approached him, Han-Shan apparently stopped, clapped his hands and laughed, leaving behind the “Ha Ha” phrase that he’s become known for.
Beat generation writers like Jack Kerouac picked up on his verse, as did hippies and seekers of the 1970s.
One can’t help but wonder if several of his ideas might help to understand at least some of the street people of the 21st century. It’s highly doubtful that all street persons are spiritually achieved with happy, meaningful lives. But might some be? And, for that matter, was Han-Shan?
If the following selections are of interest, the entire collection found in Literature of the Eastern World, ed. Leo B. Kneer. Glenview, Ill.: Scott, Foresman and Co., 1970 is highly recommended.
7
I settled at Cold Mountain long ago,
Already it seems like years and years.
Freely drifting, I prowl the woods and streams
And linger watching things in themselves.
Men don’t get this far into the mountains,
White clouds gather and billow,
Thin grass does for a mattress,
The blue sky makes a good quilt.
Happy with a stone underhead
Let heaven and earth go about their changes.
19
Once at Cold Mountain, troubles cease-
No more tangled, hung-up mind.
I idly scribble poems on the rock cliff,
Taking whatever comes, like a drifting boat.
24
When men see Han-Shan
They all say he’s crazy
And not much to look at-
Dressed in rags and hides.
They don’t get what I say
& I don’t talk their language.
All I can say to those I meet:
“Try and make it to Cold Mountain.”
Additional selections are to follow in due course. In the meantime, don’t miss this excellent link on Asian Literature Resources.
Notes
1. One could argue that words in any language carry a kind of numinous potential, however great or small. For example, consider the English word salubrious. One senses its history. It carries not only horizontal” meaning (i.e. potential conceptual connotations) but also “vertical” meaning, that is, it resonates through the ages, through Europe back to its Latin roots. Many – perhaps all – words seem to evoke a kind of spiritual ambience or, if you prefer, extremely subtle mystique. While the horizontal vs. vertical distinction is arbitrary, not unlike the terms “conscious” and “unconscious,” it suggests that words in any language hold not only conceptual plurality but also numinous potential. Along these lines Jungians talk about the numinous, transcendent power of standard symbols like the mandala but it’s quite possible that all language signifiers carry subtler and more specialized numinous potentials.
“Asian and Middle Eastern Literature – Selections and Reflections” Copyright © Michael W. Clark 2008. All rights reserved.
