DigestIFive-Character Ancient Verse
The courtyard well is square on all four sides, ringed all around by high walls. Clear enough to see the pebbles, little fish are confined in the middle. If they drink only well water, they will never grow.
Seven-Character Quatrain · Ode to the Frog Autumn 1906
Sitting alone by the pond like a tiger crouching, beneath the green poplars I nourish my spirit.
When spring comes, if I do not speak first, what insect would dare make a sound?
Seven-Character Quatrain · Adapting Saigo Takamori’s Poem, Presented to My Father 1909
Your son is resolved to leave home and go forth; if I fail to achieve fame in study, I swear not to return. Why must one’s bones be buried in the native village? In life, there is no place that is not green hills!
Five-Character Ancient Verse · Mourning Yi Changtao 1915
Gone, gone—my thoughts of you are deep; I think of you, yet you do not come. It grieves to death your friend in his fragrant youth; in sorrow and lament there is still grief left over.
The cries of Hengyang’s wild geese ring through; by the Xiang’s bank the spring waters turn back. Moved by things, I think of the one I loved, pacing hesitantly by the south side of the city.
By the city wall the grass is thick and lush; streaming tears soak the twin inscriptions. Plucking and plucking at my lonely shadow, I watch the sun set west of Heng’s clouds.
We had just hoped to roam the vast waters, yet to be scattered and fallen was never what I thought. The eternal parting begins from now; at midnight I am startled by the crowing cock.
At one cry of the cock, I wander on the eastern ridge. Slowly I look for you to come, and when I grasp your hand my eyes brim over.
Mountain passes hinder the steed’s feet; a fierce wind brushes the spirit tent. The gloom in my breast burns like fire; I sing aloud, leaning on the serried peaks.
The serried peaks are green and deep; I would gladly try a long sword. In the eastern sea there are island barbarians; in the northern mountains all is hatred and grievance.
Who can sweep them clean, who is that son? How could one refuse the drifting *? Ziqi died all too soon, and from this day the Ya lute is silenced.
The lute cut off most wounds the feelings; crimson blossoms do not flourish in spring. In the long road still to come, who will share a lifetime with me?
Before your spirit I offer a cup of wine, bleakly watching the funeral banner. In this desolation what can I rely on? Only one sweep of river and sky.
Five-Character Regulated Verse May 1915
Together we drifted at Zhuzhang Ferry, layered ice swelling the orange islet. Birds cried and the maple path was still; leaves fell and the green dimness deepened.
Climbing perilous heights, we called to companions; circling in the sky, we recognized the strong-winged birds. The linked rhymes of bright sunlight remain; a thousand years on, the virtue is still fragrant.
Mixed-Meter Poem · Swimming Notice 1915
Beside the Xia railway, ah, the water stretches broad and vast. Its depth is just right, ah, life need not be endangered.
All my comrades, ah, let us go hand in hand. After supper, ah, let us have a swim.
Seven-Character Ancient Verse · Seeing Zongyu Ichiro Off to the East About 1916–1917
The clouds open over Mount Heng, the gathered gloom is gone; heavenly horses and phoenixes dwell among the spring trees. In youth, with the talent of Qu Yuan and Jia Yi, this place was once endowed with strange energy from its mountains and rivers.
As you depart, I raise a mighty song; from this moment the roc strikes the waves. Dongting Lake and Xiang waters rise to join the sky; towering warships point straight eastward.
For no reason a day’s full sorrow is scattered out, yet luckily the east wind blows it ten thousand li away. What should trouble a true man? He must look upon the universe as millet grains.
When the blue sea runs wild, why should one worry? Let the tangled affairs of the world be yours to manage. Only keep your own body and mind in hand, and the sun and moon within your breast will always be fresh and fair.
In five hundred years there will be another world-famed man; all the others are but lesser sons. Before Hiranami Palace friendship abounds; Chongming and Tsushima are separated only by a strip of water.
When in the eastern land you wash your sword, write back; I return from the cliff as you go away.
Song of Returning to the Homeland 1918
Spring—tonight’s moon shines clear to the ends of heaven, its pure light letting not the green hills be lost.
The clear stream, though, pours toward the blue shoal; the cockcrow ceases, horse neighs and human voices whiten the long pavilion.
Funeral Oration · Sacrificial Text for My Mother 1919
Alas, my mother, so suddenly dead. Her life was fifty-three years; she bore seven children. Of the seven, three remain: Dong, Min, and Tan. The others were not brought up: two daughters and three sons.
In raising us brothers, she endured every hardship. Such strain and wearing down brought on her illness. Of all that came in between, ten thousand things are histories of heartbreak. I cannot bear to write them all at once; let me slowly and warmly speak them out.
Now that I would speak, there are only two points. One is her great virtue, the other her deep regret. My mother’s noble bearing—foremost was her broad love. Whether near or distant, kin or stranger, she sheltered all alike.
Kind, compassionate, and gentle, she moved all living things. Wherever her loving strength reached, it sprang from true sincerity. She spoke no deceitful words and harbored no cheating heart. Uprightness had become her nature; not one thread of crookedness was in her.
Wherever her hands had touched, all was orderly. Her mind was exact, able to divide principle and feeling. In affairs nothing escaped her reckoning; in things nothing could hide its form. Her habit of cleanliness spread through the whole clan.
Untouched by a speck of dust, in body and in heart, within and without. These five shining virtues were the main outlines of her character. Put together, they made the person she was, as if she still stood above us. What she regretted most lay in the remnants of the three bonds.
There were aspirations she could not fulfill, things she sought but could not obtain. This made her spiritual suffering especially great. Heaven, or man?—one corner of the earth was overturned. Next were we children, whom she had raised into a line.
If the crop is not yet ripe, it stands between green and yellow. When ill, she grasped our hands, and sorrow knotted the bowels. She only called to us children, each to strive to be good. Then too, what she held in her heart were beloved relatives and dear ones.
Some were bound by long kindness, some had suffered much toil. Great or small, close or distant, all awaited her repayment. All that has been told here shines with her abundant virtue. Holding to my sincere heart, I shall act without failing it.
As for her regrets, I must surely make up what was lacking. I keep this constantly in mind; this heart will not depart from it. The deep grace of her nurture is like spring sunlight and morning mist. When shall I repay it? Like the tireless bird filling the sea.
Alas, my mother—though she has ended, she is not dead. Though the body is ruined, the spirit is eternal. So long as I live one day, that is a day to repay her grace. So long as I live one day, that is a day to be with my parent.
Now my words are long, while the time is bitterly short. I can only lift out the main points and set aside the coarse and shallow. At this family offering, I exhaust this single cup. If there are more words to say later, they will grow with the days.
May she partake!
Yu Meiren · Presented to Yang Kaihui October 8, 1919
What shape is the sorrow piled upon my pillow? Rivers and seas tossing in waves. The night is long—why is the sky so hard to brighten? Helpless, I throw on my clothes and sit up in the slight chill.
At dawn a hundred thoughts are all ashes; utterly weary, my body has nothing to lean on. A hooked waning moon flows westward; before it, if I do not shed tears, there is no reason at all.
Xijiangyue · The Autumn Harvest Uprising 1925
The army is called workers’ and peasants’ revolution, the banner bears the sickle and the axe. Around Mount Kuanglu we do not linger, but press straight toward Xiaoxiang.
Landlords oppress layer upon layer, peasants are united in hatred one and all. In the season of autumn harvest, the evening clouds are sorrowful; then with a thunderclap comes the uprising.
Four-Character Rhymed Lines · Proclamation of the Headquarters of the Fourth Red Army Autumn 1928
The Red Army’s purpose is the people’s-rights revolution. This army of western Jiangxi has shaken the distant lands with its fame. In this plan, the troops advance in divided columns. Officers and soldiers alike must obey orders.
Fair buying and fair selling—facts bear witness. Wanton burning and killing are absolutely forbidden. All across the country, oppression is too severe. Workers and peasants suffer bitterly.
Local tyrants and evil gentry run wild through town and country. Heavy interest and heavy rents—everyone resents them. Soldiers of the White Army suffer hunger and cold together. The petty bourgeoisie bear taxes and levies of extreme weight.
The more foreign goods there are, the more native goods are trapped. Which imperialism is there that people do not hate? The military, the politicians, and the bandit party are utterly reactionary. Their mouths say yes and their hearts say no; they cannot stand firm.
Chiang, Gui, Feng, Yan—sharing one bed, dreaming different dreams. Their conflicts have already begun; the warlords’ luck is running out. Rice can fill hunger, medicine can cure sickness. The Communist Party’s proposals are extremely just.
The landlords’ fields are to be taken and tilled by the peasants. Debts need not be repaid, rents need not be delivered. Wages are to be increased, with the bosses bearing the burden. Eight-hour work is exactly fitting.
Treatment in the national army urgently needs revision. Land is to be distributed, and soldiers have their share. Enemy officers and men may surrender and join us. Their former conduct may be left unexamined.
The progressive tax law is the most suitable. Harsh taxes and levies are to be swept away clean. Merchants in the cities, accumulating pennies and inches—so long as they obey, the rest will not be questioned.
Toward foreigners, one must be stern. Factories and banks are to be confiscated and merged. Foreign capital and foreign debts are not to be recognized at all. Foreign troops and warships are not permitted to enter the country.
Down with the great powers—everyone rejoices. Down with the warlords—root out evil to the end. Unite China, and the whole nation will celebrate. Manchols, Mongols, Hui, and Tibetans may set their own arrangements.
The National Government is a pack of villains. Join forces to uproot them and clear away their chaotic rule. Workers and peasants across the country rise like wind and thunder. The day of seizing power is near.
The success of the revolution lies entirely with the masses. This proclamation is sent in all directions: everyone, put forth your effort.
Yujia'ao · Against the Second “Encirclement and Suppression” Campaign Spring 1931
Clouds above Baiyun Mountain seem ready to stand upright; below Baiyun Mountain the cries are urgent. Dead trees and rotten stumps all strive together. A forest of guns presses close; the flying general descends from the highest sky.
Seven hundred li driven through in fifteen days, the Gan River vast and the Min mountains green; sweeping away a thousand armies as if rolling up mats. Some are weeping—for those in camp, lamenting step by step, what use is it now!
Four-Character Poem October 1935
The cry is heard, seeking the voice of a friend. When a fierce tiger breaks into the gate, even the coward raises his arm.
Four-Character Poem June 1, 1939
Spring grass is green, spring waters ripple. Seeing you off to Yan’an—how swift, how can it be helped!
Five-Character Regulated Verse: In Memory of General Hai'ou July 1939
Foreign insult needs men to resist it; the general sang the gathering of herbs. The army was praised as mechanized, bravely winning the might of tigers and bears.
Bathed in blood, he defended Donggua; driving the Japanese, he returned from Tangji. In the end he died on the battlefield, yet his great resolve never failed.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Recalling the Chongqing Negotiations Autumn 1942
Where there are fields and land, all are our masters; lawless and heavenless are your people. In Chongqing, every official is a corrupt clerk; in Yan’an, no soil is not gold.
Blowing bridges and digging roads is called unity; seizing land and fighting for cities is called struggle. The earth is full of mourning geese, the earth full of blood—nothing more than a single thought to save the common people.
Five-Character Regulated Verse: On the Road at Zhangguan April 1947
Morning mist fills the jade-like heavens; campaigning horses neigh in the north wind. Warm dew is hard to stain the sharp tips; crows beneath frost are not alarmed. Garrison clothes are still like iron armor; beard and brows alike are icy silver. I linger on the road to Zhangguan, as if traveling beyond the frontier.
Five-Character Regulated Verse: Glad to Hear the News of Victory Written on the Grand Canal at Mid-Autumn, September 1947, on hearing that the Northwest Field Army had retaken Panlong.
Autumn wind crosses above the river; the great wild enters the blue vault. The good news arrives with the season; bright moon rises beside the clouds. No message from the old home’s wild geese, no letter yet from wife and children. Beneath the full sky I crane my neck again and again, while victory songs sound from the frontier city.
Huanxisha · In Reply to Mr. Liu November 1950
Yan Chu stood before King Qi and was summoned by name; contradictions built up for many years, boundless and without edge, and now are swept away at one stroke to mark a new era. Most joyful is the poet’s lofty song arriving, just joined to the glad tidings from the front; on Miaoxiang Mountain the battle flags are splendid.
Seven-Character Quatrain · Wuyun Mountain 1955
On Wuyun Mountain the five-colored clouds fly; far off they meet the clustered peaks, nearby they brush the embankment. If you ask where Hangzhou is finest, it is here that one hears the wild orioles sing.
Seven-Character Quatrain · Watching the Tide September 1957
For a thousand li the surging waves come rolling; snowflakes fly toward Diaoyutai. Crowds upon crowds all praise the grandeur of the array, as iron horsemen calmly return from killing the foe.
Seven-Character Quatrain · On Feeling February 21, 1958
Mankind has now gone into outer space, yet I grieve that I do not see the five continents united. On the day when Foolish Old Man has swept away all the ravenous mosquitoes, at the public sacrifice do not forget to tell old Marx.
Seven-Character Quatrain · Liu Fen 1958
For a thousand ages great clouds rise in the long sky; in mid-Tang there was Liu Fen, noble and magnificent. A lone swan with clipped wings laments the whistling arrow; when ten thousand horses are all mute, one cry breaks out.
Five-Character Regulated Verse November 1959
Three times up North High Peak, Hangzhou lies open at a glance. Trees beside Flying Phoenix Pavilion, wind on Peach Blossom Ridge.
When hot, I come seeking a fan; when cold, I go face a beauty. One piece drifts softly down; in welcome there is the late oriole.
Seven-Character Quatrain November 1959
Turning over, I leap into the seven-man room; looking back, the peaks in love sink into vastness. The forty-eight bends have only just been passed, and already like wind I have reached Qiantang again.
Seven-Character Poem · Khrushchev Visits America October 1959
Now a sage emerges from the western sea, rouged and powdered as he enters the mansions of the rich. One automobile, several rooms, three yellow calves, half a plate of silver.
The toiling people of the whole world share the same masters, and for ten thousand years the universe will end all strife. Lenin’s flame has turned to ashes; from now on mankind enters great harmony.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Thoughts on Reading the Papers December 1959
Recalling the anti-Soviet racket of old over “driving out the frog,” today I gladly watch the great anti-China cry. Evil fiends with rotten hearts stir up their propaganda; fierce gods open their mouths and spew clouds and haze.
In the divine land there is surely more than a thousand li of evil; the red counties originally hide ten thousand kinds of wickedness. Search the whole globe for aggressors, and only here is one lone household left.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Reading the Papers December 1959
Trotsky reached the Far East; neither making peace nor making war, he plays the hero. After Lenin actually threw away his head, Commander Ye should have been seized on Great Vulture Peak.
How dare he try the strength of a mantis arm against a neighbor? Only because he himself is a mad peak. Everyone says the West is good, yet sadly in the divine land there emerges a foolish worm.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Adapting a Poem by Lu Xun December 1959
Once startled by autumn severity descending on the world, now spring warmth is somehow sent to the tip of the tongue. In the dusty sea’s vast dimness a hundred feelings sink; in the golden wind’s desolation high officials hurry along.
Gladly climbing flying wings, the whole body feels warm; bitterly falling from empty clouds, half a section is cold. Startled to hear self-praise of all as sacred achievements, I rise to see the enemy flames at their height.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Thoughts on Reading the Papers June 13, 1960
Trotsky returns to his old dwelling; neither war nor peace—what does he intend? From the blue clouds drifts down a talking bird; from the Black Sea rise angry fish.
At the Elysee Palace the lips turn black; inside Camp David rouge is applied. Strange news appears year after year, yet only this year has brought forth something truly peculiar.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Reply to a Friend 1961
White clouds fly above Jiuyi Mountain; the emperor’s daughters ride the wind down through the emerald dimness. A single branch of mottled bamboo bears a thousand drops of tears; ten thousand blooms of rosy clouds are layered robes.
The waves of Dongting surge like heaven-joined snow; on Long Isle people’s songs shake the earth. I would, because of this, dream the boundless void; in the land of hibiscus all is morning radiance.
Seven-Character Quatrain: Qu Yuan Autumn 1961
Master Qu in those years composed the Songs of Chu, yet in his hand he held a killing blade. Too abundant was the elegance of the writing, too few the pepper and orchid; with one leap he rushed into the ten-thousand-li waves.
Seven-Character Quatrain · Two Poems for the 80th Anniversary of Lu Xun’s Birth September 1961
No. 1 Bold in spirit and firm as iron and stone, amid flashing swords and shadows of blades he moved as he pleased. On the sleepless night of bloodshed at Longhua, he still composed little poems and set them to strings and pipes.
No. 2 Jianhu and Yue Terrace, homeland of famous men; with sorrow for the country, pain broke the heart. Songs from Jiannan joined with autumn-wind chants, alike entering the poet’s satchel in misty fragrance.
Mixed-Meter Poem · In Praise of Company Eight August 1, 1963
Good Company Eight, famous under heaven. Why so? Their will is firm. For the people, for decades. Resisting corruption, never stained. Therefore they are called Good Company Eight. The People’s Liberation Army must learn from them. All army and people must rely on themselves. Not afraid of pressure, not afraid of oppression. Not afraid of knives, not afraid of halberds. Not afraid of ghosts, not afraid of demons. Not afraid of emperors, not afraid of bandits. Rare sons and daughters, like pines and cypresses. Reaching the sky above, scorning frost and snow. Their discipline is good, like solid walls. Their military skill is good, like thunderbolts. Their politics are good, ranked first. Their thinking is good, able to analyze. Analyze well, and there is great benefit. Where lies the benefit? In the power of unity. When army and people unite as one man, let us see who under heaven can oppose them.
Seven-Character Quatrain · Jia Yi 1964
Jia Sheng’s talent and bearing were unmatched in the world; in grief he lamented Qu Yuan’s writings. The Prince of Liang falling from his horse was an ordinary matter—why let sorrow over it consume a whole life?
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · On Jia Yi 1954
In youth he was a graceful and gifted talent for court and temple; his fighting will unfulfilled, the matter is pitiful indeed. In his breast were writings and a million soldiers; his courage shone upon the splendid land and raised a thousand terraces.
The heroic one had no way to sway the sage ruler; in the end his lofty integrity suffered suspicion. Through the ages, same and different, the Tutor of Changsha—only in vain did he tread the dust by Miluo’s banks.
Five-Character Regulated Verse · Journey West July 1965
A ten-thousand-li journey west in haste, riding the wind through outer space. Were it not for the roc’s wings unfolding, how could the bird-path ever open?
The sea brews a thousand goblets of wine, the mountains plant ten-thousand-ren onion-green. Wind and thunder drive the great earth; everywhere there are relatives and friends.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Hongdu 1965
Back in Hongdu, another year has come; Zu Sheng striking his oar is still spoken of today. For long I have heard in cockcrow the rains of the southern sky; once on horseback I brandished a whip over the northern lands.
Snow at the temples comes flying, turned into waste material; colored clouds are ever there, with a new sky beyond. Year after year the later waves push on the former waves; river grass and river flowers are fresh everywhere.
Bu Suanzi · Mourning Comrade Aidi, an International Communist Fighter December 1965
Sparse branches stand by the cold window, smiling before a hundred flowers. But how can that smile last long? When spring comes, instead it withers and falls.
Though withered, it cannot bear more withering—why seek trouble for oneself? Flowers fall, yet there will be a day when flowers bloom again; let the fragrance be stored for the coming year.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Thoughts Aroused January 1966
Just when the capital is troubled with affairs, I come again to the southern land to tread fragrant branches. Green pines angrily thrust toward the blue sky; fallen leaves whirl with the blue waters’ rush. Wind and thunder startle the world in one burst; red and green banners fill the streets in motion. Leaning on the railing, I quietly listen to the drizzling rain; the people of the old land have thoughts in their hearts.
Seven-Character Quatrain After September 1971
West of Yuzhang I gaze toward colored clouds; nine-branched Yangtze, nine-fold mountains. Lying high, I have no need to peer into the stone mirror; the autumn wind’s fury is on the traitor’s face.
Massed mountains and myriad ravines rush toward Jingmen; where Lin Biao was born, there is still a village. Once gone from the Purple Terrace to the northern desert, only the green mound remains facing dusk alone.
Four-Character Poem · Presented to Nixon 1972
Old man sitting on a stool Chang’e flies to the moon riding past to look at flowers
Five-Character Rhymed Lines May 1973
Old Guo withdrew from Liu, yet was not equal to Liu Zongyuan. Calling itself the Communist Party, it worships Confucius the Second first.
Five-Character Rhymed Lines July 1973
Great matters are not discussed, small matters are sent up every day. If this tune is not corrected, revisionism will surely emerge.
Seven-Character Poem: Continuing Li Bai’s “Gaoyang Wine-Bibber” July 1973
Have you not seen the Gaoyang wine-bibber rise from the grass and draft the plans, making a long salute to the noble-nosed lord of Shandong? Entering the gate, he did not bow, but displayed his grand eloquence; the two girls stopped washing and came running to catch the wind of it. Eastward he brought down the seventy-two cities of Qi, directing Chu and Han as if whirling tumbleweed. But unexpectedly Han Xin would not obey; with a hundred thousand troops he descended on Licheng. The King of Qi flared up in rage three thousand zhang high, seized the wine-bibber and consigned him to the cauldron.
Seven-Character Regulated Verse · Reading “On Feudalism,” Presented to Old Guo August 1973
I urge you to curse Qin Shihuang a little less; the matter of burning books and burying scholars needs discussion. The First Dragon’s soul is dead, yet his work still remains; Confucian learning, though famed, is really chaff. For a hundred generations many have practiced Qin politics; ten criticisms are no good article. Read thoroughly the Tang men’s “On Feudalism,” and do not follow Zihou back to King Wen.
Su Zhongqing 1974
My parents’ loyalty and chastity were repaid by the country—when did they ever fear losing their heads? Now the whole world is red; on whom does the land rely to guard it?
The work is not yet done, the body is weary, the temples already autumn; people like you and me—can we bear to let our old aspiration flow away eastward?
He Xinlang · Adapting Zhang Yuangan’s Ci to Mourn Dong Biwu April 1975
My dreams circle the roads of the divine land. Mournful in the autumn wind, camp after camp of painted horns, in the old palace millet growing where the courts once stood. Why did Kunlun’s pillar of support collapse, so that the yellow flood poured in wild disorder through the nine lands? Foxes and rabbits gather in ten thousand hamlets and a thousand villages. Heaven’s will has always been too high to ask, and human feeling too easily grows old for sorrow to be told. Again at the southern ford, I send you away.
Coolness rises on the willow bank, pressing on the fading summer heat. Bright slants the river of stars; sparse stars, pale moon, broken clouds lightly passing. Ten thousand li of rivers and mountains—who knows where they are? Turning back to our night talk by the bed. The wild geese do not arrive; when the letter is written, to whom can it be given? My gaze exhausts the blue sky, thinking on past and present. How could I let the grudges of mere boys become an “I and you”? Go on, then—do not look back.
网志