Difference between revisions of "Su Shi (Su Dongpo)"
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Enjoying a remarkable level of fame in my life, I am often still referred to as the greatest writer of the period (410). I was a man of many talents; I was a writer, poet (shi, cu, fu, poems on paintings), artist (painter), calligrapher, pharmacologist, and statesman of the Song Dynasty. Around 2,700 of my poems and 800 letters have survived (source: Chinese Literature). | Enjoying a remarkable level of fame in my life, I am often still referred to as the greatest writer of the period (410). I was a man of many talents; I was a writer, poet (shi, cu, fu, poems on paintings), artist (painter), calligrapher, pharmacologist, and statesman of the Song Dynasty. Around 2,700 of my poems and 800 letters have survived (source: Chinese Literature). | ||
| − | My writings and calligraphy brought me much fame and wealth, but my outspoken manner and staunch beliefs led my pen to flow too freely with constructive criticisms of the current regime, and in particular of Wang Anshi and his "New Policies" which I saw as progress in the wrong direction(410). | + | My writings and calligraphy brought me much fame and wealth, but my outspoken manner and staunch beliefs led my pen to flow too freely with constructive criticisms of the current regime, and in particular of Wang Anshi and his "New Policies" which I saw as progress in the wrong direction(410). After myears of striving to improve China and the Chinese Government, I had gotten nowhere. Not in the literal sense, mind you, for my political commentaries had got me sent all around the country of China as a convicted criminal and I became quite the expert on the topographical features of China. What I mean is that the the leaders of China would rather send me hiking across the country, then enforce any of the measures that I prescribed. No matter what I wrote, China would never change. I wrote sardonically of the matter once, when one of my wives gave birth to a son: |
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Families, when a child is born | Families, when a child is born | ||
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(Source: Su Shi, "On the Birth of His Son”) | (Source: Su Shi, "On the Birth of His Son”) | ||
| − | + | Happiness does not require fortune or fame; I was not worried for my son's material comfort, but rather, I was worried about what pain and frustration my son would have to endure if he inherited his old man's rebellious spirit. What has China come to that the ignorant hold power and the enlightened must hide their pens in fear of reprisal? | |
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| + | Please do not misunderstand my embittered words just now. I was no despairing poet, cursing my rotten luck and complaining to the world about my pitiful state. No, I always found happiness wherever I was situated, just as the many inhabitants who dwelled their before me, content in their lives and never dreaming of anything better. I would build my house, work in the field with every other man, and take up my pen when I had time to write of the many insights I had acquired through my new-found way of life. | ||
| − | + | Believed that there was no one “right” way, but that everyone must find their own path. What was the point of sticking so rigidly to any one form that your thoughts got lost and your words distorted and strained in the process? The ideal of writing is constantly changing and time onwards, so why should one stick to an ideal which will surely become labeled by the "enlightened" scholars of the next age as flawed and obsolete? It is better far not to constrain yourself to expectations of the men around you who may very well be idiots. | |
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| + | [[File:Picture6.jpg|200px|thumb|right|Source: Photograph. Castle of Costa Mesa ]] | ||
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| + | Due to my accomplishments with the pen and my unique philosophy, many would praise me as the wisest among men; the ideal scholar and author. But those close to me knew better. My dear friend Fo Yin, so much wiser than I by far, my beloved wife who I found that I could not function properly without; these people saw my follies and my flaws, and never failed to point them out to me one after the other. I will never forget one day when I was feeling particularly pleased with my accomplishments and sent a self-laudatory poem to Fo Yin in hopes of impressing him with my wisdom as well. The poem that I sent him went thus: | ||
稽首天中天， | 稽首天中天， | ||
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(Source: History – Literature) | (Source: History – Literature) | ||
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Revision as of 07:40, 2 March 2012
SU SHI (SU DONGPO)蘇東坡 (1037–1101)
To what can our life on earth be likened?
To a flock of geese,
alighting on the snow.
Sometimes leaving a trace of their passage.
(Source: Su Shi, Su Shi Poetry)
Enjoying a remarkable level of fame in my life, I am often still referred to as the greatest writer of the period (410). I was a man of many talents; I was a writer, poet (shi, cu, fu, poems on paintings), artist (painter), calligrapher, pharmacologist, and statesman of the Song Dynasty. Around 2,700 of my poems and 800 letters have survived (source: Chinese Literature).
My writings and calligraphy brought me much fame and wealth, but my outspoken manner and staunch beliefs led my pen to flow too freely with constructive criticisms of the current regime, and in particular of Wang Anshi and his "New Policies" which I saw as progress in the wrong direction(410). After myears of striving to improve China and the Chinese Government, I had gotten nowhere. Not in the literal sense, mind you, for my political commentaries had got me sent all around the country of China as a convicted criminal and I became quite the expert on the topographical features of China. What I mean is that the the leaders of China would rather send me hiking across the country, then enforce any of the measures that I prescribed. No matter what I wrote, China would never change. I wrote sardonically of the matter once, when one of my wives gave birth to a son:
Families, when a child is born
Want it to be intelligent.
I, through intelligence,
Having wrecked my whole life,
Only hope the baby will prove
Ignorant and stupid.
Then he will crown a tranquil life
By becoming a Cabinet Minister.
(Source: Su Shi, "On the Birth of His Son”)
Happiness does not require fortune or fame; I was not worried for my son's material comfort, but rather, I was worried about what pain and frustration my son would have to endure if he inherited his old man's rebellious spirit. What has China come to that the ignorant hold power and the enlightened must hide their pens in fear of reprisal?
Please do not misunderstand my embittered words just now. I was no despairing poet, cursing my rotten luck and complaining to the world about my pitiful state. No, I always found happiness wherever I was situated, just as the many inhabitants who dwelled their before me, content in their lives and never dreaming of anything better. I would build my house, work in the field with every other man, and take up my pen when I had time to write of the many insights I had acquired through my new-found way of life.
Believed that there was no one “right” way, but that everyone must find their own path. What was the point of sticking so rigidly to any one form that your thoughts got lost and your words distorted and strained in the process? The ideal of writing is constantly changing and time onwards, so why should one stick to an ideal which will surely become labeled by the "enlightened" scholars of the next age as flawed and obsolete? It is better far not to constrain yourself to expectations of the men around you who may very well be idiots.
Due to my accomplishments with the pen and my unique philosophy, many would praise me as the wisest among men; the ideal scholar and author. But those close to me knew better. My dear friend Fo Yin, so much wiser than I by far, my beloved wife who I found that I could not function properly without; these people saw my follies and my flaws, and never failed to point them out to me one after the other. I will never forget one day when I was feeling particularly pleased with my accomplishments and sent a self-laudatory poem to Fo Yin in hopes of impressing him with my wisdom as well. The poem that I sent him went thus:
稽首天中天，
毫光照大千；
八风吹不动，
端坐紫金莲。
I bow my head to the heaven within heaven,
Hairline rays illuminating the universe,
The eight winds cannot move me,
Sitting still upon the purple golden lotus.
I hoped to show through my eloquent writing, that I had moved beyond the eight forces that usually controlled man: praise (称), ridicule (讥), honor (誉), disgrace (毁), gain (得), loss (失), pleasure (乐) and misery (苦), and that I had achieved a sort of state of enlightenment. My friend, a zen master himself, knew the meaning of my words better than I did and sent back a single word in reply: fart. Enraged at this uncaring insult from a long-time friend, I prepared a boat and sailed across the lake seperating our houses, pounding on his door and demanding an audience. What I got was a letter written by Fo Yin and addressed to myself:
八风吹不动，
一屁弹过江。
The eight winds cannot move me,
One fart blows me across the river
I realized how foolish and arrogant I had been to think that I was unmovable by worldly thoughts. In two short lines, Fo Yin had shown me that I was just as susceptible to the blowing of the eight winds as any man was.
(Source: History – Anecdotes)
江城子•乙卯正月二十日夜記夢
十年生死兩茫茫，
不思量， 自難忘。
千里孤墳，無處話淒涼。
縱使相逢應不識，
塵滿面，鬢如霜。
夜來幽夢忽還鄉，
小軒窗，正梳妝。
相顧無言，惟有淚千行。
料得年年腸斷處，
明月夜，短松岡。
(source: Su Shi, “Dreaming”)
Dreaming of My Deceased Wife on the Night of the 20th Day of the First Month
Ten years living and dead have drawn apart
I do nothing to remember
But I cannot forget
Your lonely grave a thousand miles away...
Nowhere can I talk of my sorrow -
Even if we met, how would you know me
My face full of dust
My hair like snow? In the dark of night, a dream: suddenly, I am home
You by the window
Doing your hair
I look at you and cannot speak
Your face is streaked by endless tears
Year after year must they break my heart
These moonlit nights?
That low pine grave?
(Source: History – Literature)
[File:Picture5.jpg|200px|thumb|right|Source: Ode of Red Cliff (partial) By Su Shi]]
“Have you really understood the water and the moon?” I said. “The one streams past so swiftly yet is never gone; the other for ever waxes and wanes yet finally has never grown nor diminished. For if you look at the aspect which changes, heaven and earth cannot last for one blink; but if you look at the aspect which is changeless, the worlds within and outside you are both inexhaustible, and what reasons have you to envy anything?
“Moreover, each thing between heaven and earth has its owner, and even one hair which is not mine I can never make part of me. Only the cool wind on the river, or the full moon in the mountains, caught by the ear becomes a sound, or met by the eye changes to colour; no one forbids me to make it mine, no limit is set to the use of it; this is the inexhaustible treasury of the creator of things, and you and I can share in the joy of it.”
The guest smiled, consoled. We washed the cups and poured more wine. After the nuts and savouries were finished, and the wine‑cups and dishes lay scattered around, we leaned pillowed back to back in the middle of the boat, and did not notice when the sky turned white in the east.
(Source: Su Shi, "EXCERPTS FROM THE RED CLIFF”)
Works Cited
"Chinese Literature - Chinese Culture - China Guide - Greatwallvacation.com." GreatWallVacation, Professional, efficient and Faithful China Tour Operator and Wholesaler. Web. 23 Feb. 2012. <http://www.greatwallvacation.com/travel-destinations/Chinese-Culture/Chinese-Literature.html>.
"History - Anecdotes." Su Shi's Story: How Fart Can Make You Grow Spiritually? Web. 21 Feb. 2012. <http://history.cultural-china.com/en/38History6025.html>.
"History - Literature." Su Shi. Web. 24 Feb. 2012. <http://history.cultural-china.com/en/59History147.html>.
Ode of Red Cliff (partial) By Su Shi. Photograph. Chinapage.com. Web. 23 Feb. 2012. <http://www.chinapage.com/red-cliff.html>. Photograph. Castle of Costa Mesa: Fairy Tale Dolls, Handmade With Love. Web. 21 Feb. 2012. <http://castleofcostamesa.com/chinese-culture/chinese-stories-for-children/biographies-of-famous-chinese-historical-figures-%E4%BA%BA%E7%89%A9%E6%95%85%E4%BA%8B%E5%A4%A7%E5%85%A8/su-dongpo-%E8%98%87%E6%9D%B1%E5%9D%A1>.
Photograph. China Daily. 28 Sept. 2010. Web. 21 Feb. 2012. <http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/regional/2010-09/28/content_11357593.htm>.
Photograph. Cultural China. Shanghai News, Press Bureau. Hongtu Real Estate Development Company, One Member of the Long River Foreign Exchange Foundation. Web. 21 Feb. 2012. <http://history.cultural-china.com/en/38History6025.html>.
Photograph 2. Cultural China. Shanghai News, Press Bureau. Hongtu Real Estate Development Company, One Member of the Long River Foreign Exchange Foundation. Web. 26 Feb. 2012. <http://history.cultural-china.com/en/38History6024.html>.
Photograph. Great Wall Vacation. Web. 23 Feb. 2012. <http://www.greatwallvacation.com/travel-destinations/Chinese-Culture/Chinese-Literature.html>.
Su Shi. "Dreaming of My Deceased Wife on the Night of the 20th Day of the First Month." Chinese Poems. Web. 24 Feb. 2012. <http://www.chinese-poems.com/s5.html>.
Su Shi. "EXCERPTS FROM THE RED CLIFF , PART I By Su Shi (Su Dongpo)." Asia for Educators. Asia for Educators | Columbia University. Web. 26 Feb. 2012. <http://afe.easia.columbia.edu>.
Su Shi. "On the Birth of His Son by Su Tung-po • 6 Poems by Su Tung-poEdit." On the Birth of His Son by Su Tung-po Classic Famous Poet. Allpoetry.com. Web. 26 Feb. 2012. <http://allpoetry.com/poem/8536825-On_the_birth_of_his_son-by-Su_Tung-po>.
Su Shi. " Su Shi Poetry [Su DongPo]." Su Shi (Su Dongpo) Poetry. Chinapage.com. Web. 26 Feb. 2012. <http://www.chinapage.com/poet-e/sushi2e.html>.
"The Life of Su Dongpo." China Daily. 28 Sept. 2010. Web. 21 Feb. 2012. <http://www.chinadaily.com.cn/regional/2010-09/28/content_11357593.htm>.