The Selected Poems of Tu Fu

by Du Fu, David Hinton (Translator), Tu Fu (Alias)

Tu Fu radically altered poetry as he found it in the High T’ang period. In addition to making formal innovations in language and structure, he extended the range of acceptable subject matter to include all aspects of public and private experience, thus becoming in the words of translator David Hinton, “the first complete poetic sensibility in Chinese literature.”


This edition of The Selected Poems of Tu Fu is the only comprehensive selection of the poet's work currently available in English. While retaining a scholar's devotion to the text, Hinton has attempted “to recreate Tu Fu's poems as new systems of uncertainty." By reflecting all the ambiguity and density of the originals, he has created compelling English poems that significantly alter our conception of Chinese poetry. Included with the poems are the translator’s introduction and translation principles. as well as a biography of Tu Fu; together these provide a fascinating portrait of a uniquely sensitive spirit during one of the most tumultuous periods in Chinese history.

Genres: Poetry, China, Classics, Chinese Literature, Literature, Asia, Nonfiction

172 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1989

About the author

Du Fu (Chinese: 杜甫, 712–770) was one of China's greatest poets and a central figure in the literary tradition of the Tang dynasty, often hailed as the "Poet Sage" (詩聖) for his moral integrity and the depth of his work. His poetry, numbering over 1,400 surviving pieces, captures the essence of his turbulent era, blending historical insight, personal struggle, and a deep concern for humanity.
Born into a scholarly family, Du Fu was well-educated in the Confucian classics and aspired to a government career. However, his attempts to gain a stable official position were largely unsuccessful. He experienced firsthand the chaos of the An Lushan Rebellion (755–763), which devastated the Tang empire, displacing millions and leading to widespread suffering. These events profoundly shaped his poetry, turning his work into a powerful chronicle of war, political corruption, and the hardships faced by common people.
Unlike his contemporary Li Bai, whose poetry often embraced spontaneity and romanticism, Du Fu’s verse is marked by realism, technical precision, and a strong sense of moral duty. His ability to fuse personal emotion with historical narrative made his work deeply moving and enduring. Themes of exile, poverty, and loyalty pervade his later poetry, as he spent much of his life wandering in hardship, struggling with illness and poverty.
Though largely unrecognized in his lifetime, Du Fu's influence grew over the centuries. Later generations admired his ability to elevate poetry into a form of social commentary, and he became a defining figure in classical Chinese literature. Today, his works continue to be studied and celebrated, both in China and worldwide, for their timeless wisdom, humanistic perspective, and artistic brilliance.

Reviews

[Meredith is a hot mess · Rating 4 out of 5]

This review is for The Selected Poems of Tu Fu translated by David Hinton.

With translated poetry, I simply want to read good poetry that speaks to me. I find translations make a difference, but I don't care as much about how "accurate" the translation is to the original language - I like the translator to take liberties. The spirit of the original poem is often more authentic when liberties are taken when translating. I really can't comment on David Hinton's translation, but I look forward to comparing it to Burton Watson & David Young's translations. I enjoyed reading David Hinton's introduction:

So, although I have tried to remain faithful to the content of Tu Fu's poems, I have made little attempt to mimic the formal or linguistic characteristics of the originals, because to do so would be to misrepresent them entirely...My overall intent has been to create reciprocal configurations in English. And rather than resolving the uncertainties of the originals, I have tried to recreate Tu Fu's poems as new systems of uncertainty, as the poems he might have written had he been writing in today's English."

Tu Fu's years of wandering did not end with his death. Because of the poverty and dislocation of his family, he was not finally buried in the family graveyard near Lo-yang until his grandson managed to arrange it in 813, forty-three years after his death. Although Tu's work had aroused relatively little interest during his lifetime, the praise in Yuan Chen's tomb inscription indicates that his poems had begun to startle and move readers. Thus, he satisfied the terms of his famous statement on poetics: "If my words aren't startling, death itself is without rest." My hope for these translations is that they might deepen Tu's millennial repose

Vermont, January 1989 David Hinton



Moonlit Night

Tonight at Fu-Chou, this moon she watches
Alone in our room. And my little, far-off
Children, too young to understand what keeps me

Away, or even remember Ch’ang-an. By now,
Her hair will be mist-scented, her jade-white
Arms chilled in its clear light. When
Will it find us together again, drapes drawn
Open, light traced where it dries our tears?


Thoughts Come

My sad eyes find frost and wild, blooming
Chrysanthemums on a cold wall. Broken willows
Sway in heaven’s wind. And when a clear flute
Sings, my traveler’s tears fall. A tower’s

Shadow stretching across poised water, peaks
Gather darkness. A frontier sun stalls–then
Night. After returning birds arrive, come
Slaughter-filled cries: crows settling-in.



The New Moon

Slice of ascending light, arc tipped
Aside its bellied darkness–the new moon
Appears and, scarcely risen beyond ancient
Frontiers, edges behind clouds. Silver,

Changeless–Heaven’s River spreads across
Empty peaks scoured with cold. White
Dew dusts the courtyard, chrysanthemum
Blossoms clotting there with swollen dark.


9/9, On Tzu-Chou City Wall p.66

This night of yellow-blossom wine
Finds me old, my hair white. Joys
I ponder lost to youth, I look out
Across distances. Seasons run together.

Brothers and sisters inhabit desolate
Songs. Heaven and Earth fill drunken eyes.
Warriors and spears, frontier passes. . . .
All day, thoughts have gone on and on


Farewell At Fang Kuan’s Grave p.67

Traveling again in some distant place, I
Pause here to offer your lonely grave
Farewell. By now, tears haven’t left dry
Earth anywhere. Clouds drift low in empty

Sky, broken. Hsieh An’s old go partner,
Sword in hand, I come in search of Hsu,
But find only forest blossoms falling and
Oriole songs sending a passerby on his way.

Excerpts from Adrift p.68

As I row upstream past a tower, the boat
glides into its shadow. Even this far
west, the stately pines of Ch’eng-tu’s
widespread villages continue. And beyond,

out there in untouched country, autumn
colors heighten cold clarity. Mountain
snows bleached in its glare, sunlight
conjures exquisite rainbows among clouds.

…

Craving delicate beauty,
we avoid the thick squalor of things.

Over my village: scattered clouds, lovely
twilight. Here, roosting hens settle in.
Each departure like any other, where is
my life going in these isolate outlands?

Fresh moonlight falls across my clothes. It
ascends ancient walls dusted with frost.
Thick wine ready to drink since time began,
war drums break loose east in the city.

The Musk Deer p.90

Clear streams lost forever, you’ll end
Served up in jade dainties. Little
Talent for the life of hermit immortals,
Unable even to resent fine kitchens–once

Times fall apart, anything is a trifle,
Faint voice at disaster’s heart, anything.
Noblemen noble as thieves, gluttonous,
You’ll get wolfed down in a royal trice.


Rain p.98

Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
And beyond--white birds blaze in flight.

Night p.99

Thoughts p.100

Returning Late p.101

Riverside Moon and Stars p.105

The sudden storm leaves a clear, autumnal
Night and Jade String radiant in gold waves.
Celestial River a timeless white, clarity
Claims Yangtze shallows anew. Strung Pearls

Snaps, scattering shimmering reflections.
A mirror lofts into blank space. Of remnant
Light, the clepsydra’s linger drop,
What remains with frost seizing blossoms?


Opposite A Post-Station, The Boat
Moonlit Beside A Monastery p.105

boat mirroring a clear, bright moon
Deep in the night, I leave lanterns unlit.
A gold monastery stands beyond green maples

Here, a red post-tower beside white water
Faint, drifting from the city, a crow’s cry
Fades. Full of wild grace, egrets sleep.
Hair white, a guest of lakes and rivers,
I tie blinds open and sit alone, sleepless.


Excerpts from Thoughts, Sick With Fever On A Boat
(Thirty-Six Rhymes Offered To Those
I love South Of The Lake) p.112

White houses vanish along the water in fog.
Over the maple shoreline, green peaks rise.
It aches. Winter’s malarial fire aches,
And the drizzling rain won’t stop falling.

Ghosts they welcome here with drums bring
No blessings. Crossbows kill nothing but owls.
When my spirits ebb away, I feel relieved.
And when grief comes, I let it come. I drift

Outskirts of life, both sinking and floating,
Occurrence become its perfect ruin of desertion.


p.115-200 biographical information

[Peycho Kanev · Rating 4 out of 5]

NEW YEAR’S EVE AT TU WEI’S HOME

The songs over pepper wine have ended.
Friends jubilant among friends, we start
A stabled racket of horses. Lanterns
Blaze, scattering crows. As dawn breaks,

The fortieth year passes in my flight toward
Evening light. Who can change it, who
Stop it for even a single embrace—this dead
Dazzling drunk in the wings of life we live?

MOONLIT NIGHT

Tonight at Fu-chou, this moon she watches
Alone in our room. And my little, far-off
Children, too young to understand what keeps me
Away, or even remember Ch’ang-an. By now,

Her hair will be mist-scented, her jade-white
Arms chilled in its clear light. When
Will it find us together again, drapes drawn
Open, light traced where it dries our tears?


MOONLIT NIGHT THINKING OF MY BROTHERS

Warning drums have ended all travel.
A lone goose cries across autumn
Borderlands. White Dew begins tonight,
This bright moon bright there, over

My old village. My scattered brothers—
And no home to ask Are they alive or dead?
Letters never arrive. War comes
And goes—then comes like this again.


FAREWELL AT FANG KUAN’S GRAVE

Traveling again in some distant place, I
Pause here to offer your lonely grave
Farewell. By now, tears haven’t left dry
Earth anywhere. Clouds drift low in empty

Sky, broken. Hsieh An’s old go partner.
Sword in hand, I come in search of Hsü,
But find only forest blossoms falling and
Oriole songs sending a passerby on his way.

[Geoffrey Hagberg · Rating 5 out of 5]

What is it: a fraction of the many hundreds of poems written by the 8th-century government official turned refugee who would become one of the most influential writers in history.

Why I think it's amazing: I'm not a scholar of Chinese poetry--another gap in my education that I'm slowly correcting--so I can't feign an expert perspective on the poems in this collection. And I don't read any Chinese languages, so I can't claim to evaluate the accuracy of David Hinton's translations. Instead, I can speak to my experience approaching Chinese poetry through the works of Tu Fu (also written Du Fu), and I think I can speak to the efficacy of Hinton's translations regardless of any technical accuracy.

My experience reading this collection was one of encounter.

Tu Fu's early decades of poetry are vivid commentary on current events, social norms, his local communities, even political advice to other government officials and the emperor himself. And in all of that, even in poems where Tu Fu takes on a poetic narration of an imagined character rather than his own perspective, there is a clear sense that a particular person in a particular time wrote these particular lines. Distances of thousands of miles and hundreds of years might make that person and time more difficult to access, but those lines provide so many entry points of empathy and experience.

Tu Fu's later years, his most productive and most tumultuous, reveal a man at once growing in his craft and struggling more and more with his place in life.

There is a geographical and social aspect of that struggle, as Tu Fu is unhomed by war and forced to wander to the end of his life as a refugee, only briefly settling for various periods of time to try to raise his family and find some peace. So much of Tu Fu's later poetry (at least as selected for this collection) is grounded in observations of the natural world which fill the majority of any given poem, but almost always these observations of nature are looking beyond the river or mountain or sky and looking inward. This pathetic fallacy--rendering interior emotions through landscape and weather and animal life--is far from mere metaphor, however. Tu Fu includes his interior world (often grief, illness, fear, or homesickness) as an observation of nature along with the landscape, in parity with it and part of it. And while he does write from his own perspective with plenty of autobiographical details, he writes his emotions into the landscape in a way that suggests he speaks for the communities around him--communities that have all been unhomed like he has, all struggling through poverty and fear, all striving to find a place.

But there is a potent spiritual aspect to this as well. In these same later years of his career, Tu Fu increasingly strives to achieve in his poetic craft the philosophies of Tao/Chan Buddhism. In my review of Basho and His Interpreters, I noted a tension in Basho's late life, where the act of writing poetry--of observing the natural world, recording those particularities, rendering his own gaze and his own interior world--were in conflict with the Buddhist admonition to see past those particularities and empty the world of definite forms. That tension is here in Tu Fu's poetry as well, though Tu Fu sustains that tension in a different way than Basho, choosing to write poetry that, increasingly as he aged, sees the world as sparse, as barely real but still pregnant with meaning, meaning that lies beneath the surface, beneath the forms, a mystery that, in poetry, arises from ambiguity and uncertainty and allusiveness in each phrase and image.

This is where the efficacy of David Hinton's translations becomes apparent. Hinton has translated Tu Fu with extraordinary attention to two facets of his poetry. One facet: the patterns of phrase that recur throughout Tu Fu's extensive career, which become signals to the reader of kinds of meaning that are foundational to the poet and yet kinds of meaning that subtly shift and take on new tones as Tu Fu ages and understands his spiritual practice within his role as poet more clearly. Hinton's translation preserves these patterns with vocabulary choices that are consistent and carefully selected (explained in end notes) to communicate only and always those foundational meanings. The other facet: the ambiguity, the mystery. Here, Hinton's craft is most on display, as he manages to render Tu Fu's poetry with English vocabulary that emphasizes grammatical exchanges--nouns that could function as verbs, verbs that could function as adjectives, frequently an omission of English articles and prepositions. The effect is that often any line of Tu Fu's poetry--especially from the latter years--could be read in multiple ways, and the reader is put in a position of searching for something hidden underneath that uncertain grammar.

It seems to me the highest skill of Tu Fu (preserved by the highest skill of Hinton's translations), that a young American man in the 21st century could be put in the position of recognizing the words on the page are but sparse forms, the truth a mystery underlying the uncertain grammar. And it seems to me the heart of this inherent tension that I still see in these poems Tu Fu, an elderly man who witnessed children die, who struggled to put food on the table, who was lonely and homeless for many years when he would have been at the height of his career in better circumstances.

An aside: I have to note another commonality between Basho and Tu Fu. Both men, facing the tension described above, write poems that explicitly acknowledge that poetry cannot lead to the spiritual truth they sought. Tu Fu's late career includes several poems with lines like "I only make poems of whatever I'm facing [...] sage-masters realized isolate silence whole: where am I, not yet far into twilight years, heart and mind already too frail for all that" and "in such dharma perfected, poems are folly [...] how could I renounce wife and children." And some lines that seem almost post-apocalyptic, like "books and histories spilling loose, baggage half-soaked and smashed on these shorelines of life" or "Poets both north and south found cold grief out here, loss and confusion. My whole life spent spirit-wounded--and now, I wander every day a more profligate waste of road." More tragic even than the poverty and war that Tu Fu describes around him, I feel the tragedy in these lines--a poet at the height of his craft, seeing that such craft may actually be worse than silence and may only point to a future world that is already upheaved.

You might also like: I've already mentioned Basho and His Interpreters and could not more highly recommend it. Basho, while writing nearly a millennia later in Japan, wears the influence of Tu Fu on his sleeve (actually quotes Tu Fu multiple times), and is wrestling with many of the same fundamental spiritual questions albeit from a life of voluntary travel rather than forced exile.

[Fin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Love Du Fu but didn't fully get on with Hinton's translations here. I felt like I was reading 80% him and 20% the original, which in one sense might be inevitable, but I suppose his fairly eccentric and broad attempts at explaining Zen Buddhism & Daoism at the same time as translating Du Fu contributed to me losing a bit of trust in him. I also didn't love all the faintly exoticising portmanteaus (sometimes two or three lines would just be composed of these almost unreadable hybrid forms), especially when combined with some random informal colloquialisms & anachronisms (shit, potpourri, old-timer etcetc), and the constant use of slightly awkward contractions and the word 'just' every poem or so. (I'm being mean: translating literary chinese is haard, and this isn't all negatives. Also, I have no ability to do it myself, so maybe it's me who's bringing unfair assumptions to the work)

[Deni · Rating 4 out of 5]

estos poemas que nos llegan desde tan lejos parecen venirnos a decir que la poesía mantiene siempre la misma esencia, sin importar el tiempo. estos poemas tristes, contemplativos, repletos de una belleza intrínseca y minimalista, son inspiradores y compañeros, para leer lentamente, perdiéndonos entre sus versos e imágenes. la tristeza de Du Fu es también la mía, yo también estuve tan borracho como él. sus añoranzas, sus cantos a la amistad, su nostalgia y su total incomprensión por el ritmo burocrático y beligerante del mundo lo vuelven un poeta total. continuaré buscando poemas de estos chinos que escribían tanto tiempo atrás, sospecho que contienen una certeza que se explica a sí misma en la claridad y sencillez de sus aseveraciones.

[Josh · Rating 5 out of 5]

They say he's the best poet of China. He wrote 1300 years ago. I like him. He's saddening. He's a poet though.

[Pip · Rating 3 out of 5]

strongly disliked this translation; it felt unnecessarily and purposely exoticising to the point of obscuring the meaning. in particular the literal translation of place names ("altar-whole" for chengdu; "thresh-grain" for qin; "exalt mountain" for taishan) meant the poems felt completely disconnected from the very real sense of physical place they should have.

[Víctor Bermúdez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Macizos de crisantemos han abierto sus lágrimas dos veces.

[Edgar Trevizo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fino, exquisito, delicado. Sin más ornamento que sus ideas, cada poema es un pequeño paseo en silencio, dentro de uno mismo. Gran poesía.

[Robert Sheppard · Rating 5 out of 5]

WHAT EVERY EDUCATED CITIZEN OF THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW IN THE 21ST CENTURY: INTRODUCTION TO THE IMMORTAL TANG DYNASTY POETS OF CHINA----LI BAI (LI PO), DU FU (TU FU), WANG WEI AND BAI JUYI-----THE MEETING OF THE BUDDHIST, TAOIST AND CONFUCIAN WORLDS-----FROM THE WORLD LITERATURE FORUM RECOMMENDED CLASSICS AND MASTERPIECES SERIES VIA GOODREADS—-ROBERT SHEPPARD, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF



The Tang Dynasty (618-907 AD) is considered the "Golden Age" of Chinese poetry and a time of cultural ascendency when China was considered the pre-eminent civilization in the world. At its commencement Chang'an (modern Xian) its capital with over one million inhabitants was the largest city on the face of the Earth and a vibrant cosmopolitan cultural center at the Eastern end of the Eurasian "Silk Road" when Europe had declined into the fragmented "Dark Ages" of the post-Roman Empire feudal era and the "Islamic Golden Age" of the Abbasid Caliphate was just beginning to rise to rival it with the construction of its new and flourishing capital at Baghdad. China itself had suffered a similar fragmentation and decline with the fall of the Han Dynasty, equal in scope and splendor to the contemporaneous Roman Empire, but with the comparative difference that Tang China had acheived reunification while Europe remained disunited and had lost much of its Classical Greek and Roman heritage, only to be recovered with the Renaissance. Tang Dynasty China by contrast was in a condition of dynamic cultural growth and innovation, having both retained its Classical heritage of Confucianism and Taoism but also assimilated the new spiritual energy of the rise of Buddhism, at the same time the European world assimilated the spiritual influence of Christianity and the Muslim world that of Islam.

Into this context were born four men of poetic genius who in the Oriental world would come to occupy a place in World Literature comparable to the great names of Dante and Shakespeare: Li Bai (Li Po), Du Fu (Tu Fu), Wang Wei and Bai Juyi. All of these geniuses were influenced by the three great cultural heritages of China: Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism, just as Western writers such as Dante and Shakespeare were influenced by the three dominant Western Heritages of Greek Socratic rationalism, Roman law and social duty and Christian spirituality and moral cultivation. It was during the Tang Dynasty that Chinese culture became fully Buddhist, especially with the translations of Buddhist Scripture brough back from India by Xuanzong, the famous monk-traveller celebrated in the "Journey to the West." Each poet was influenced by all three heritages, but with perhaps one heritage on the ascendant in each man in accordance with his temperament and worldview, with Du Fu emphasizing the social conscience and duty of Confucianism in his poetry, Li Bai the free spirit and dynamic natural balances of Taoism, and Wang Wei and Bai Juyi emphasizing the Buddhist ethos of detachment from this world and overcoming desire in quest of spiritual enlightenment.



THE GLORIOUS TANG DYNASTY---HIGH POINT OF CHINESE CIVILIZATION


The Tang Dynasty, with its capital at Chang'an, then the most populous city in the world, is generally regarded as a high point in Chinese civilization—equal to, or surpassing that of, the earlier Han Dynasty—a Second Golden Age of cosmopolitan culture. Its territory, acquired through the military campaigns of its early rulers, rivaled that of the Han Dynasty. In censuses of the 7th and 8th centuries, the Tang records estimated the population at about 50 million people, rising by the 9th century to perhaps about 80 million people, though considerably reduced by the convulsions of the An Lu Shan Rebellion, making it the largest political entity in the world at the time, surpassing the earlier Han Dynasty's probable 60 million and the contemporaneous Abbasid Caliphate's probable 50 milliion and even rivaling the Roman Empire at its height, which at the time of Trajan in 117 AD was estimated at 88 million. Such massive populations, economic and cultural resources would not be matched until the rise of the nations and empires of the modern era.

With its large population and economic base, the dynasty was able to support a large proportion of its population devoted to cultural accompishments as well as a government, Civil Service administration, scholarly schools and examinations, and raise professional and conscripted armies of hundreds of thousands of troops to contend with nomadic powers in dominating Inner Asia and the lucrative trade routes along the Silk Road. Various kingdoms and states paid tribute to the Tang court, and were indirectly controlled through a protectorate system. Besides political hegemony, the Tang also exerted a powerful cultural influence over neighboring states such Korea, Japan, and Vietnam, with much of Japanese culture, government, literature and religion finding its model and origin in Tang Dynasty China.

In this global Medieval Era we can say with fairness that while Europe went into fragmentation and decline until the Renaissance the two pre-eminent centers of world civilization were Chang'an of the Tang Empire and Baghdad of the Abbasid Caliphate and the Islamic Golden Age. Two incidents characterize the interaction of these two Medieval "Superpowers," and also affected literary production of the age: The Battle of Talas and the An Lu Shan Rebellion. The Battle of Talas of 751 AD was the collision of the two expanding superpowers, the Tang and the Abbasid Muslims, which in the defeat of the Tang Empire's armies resulted first in the halt of its expansion along the Silk Road towards the Middle-East, and secondly, in the important transfer of Chinese paper-making technology through captured artisans from China to the Arabs, an important factor fueling the Islamic Golden Age and its literature. The An Lu Shan Rebellion, arising out of the doomed love affair of the Tang Emperor Xuanzong and the Imperial Concubine Yang Gui Fei disrupted all of China, perhaps causing the deaths of 20-30 million people, and affecting the personal lives and writings of all the poets including Li Bai, Wang Wei and Du Fu. It also was the occasion of the Abbasid Caliph sending 4000 cavalry troops to help the Tang Emperor suppress the rebellion, a force that permanently settled in China and became a catalyst for growth of the Muslim population in China and Muslim-Tang cultural interpenetration along the Silk Road. It also became the subject of the Tang poet Bai Juyi's immortal epic of the Emperor, the Rebellion and the tragic death of the beautiful Imperial Concubine, Yang Gui Fei in "The Song of Everlasting Sorrow."


THE COALESCING OF THE CONFUCIAN, TAOIST AND BUDDHIST WORLDS: THE PARABLE OF THE THREE VINEGAR TASTERS


The Parable of "The Three Vinegar Tasters" is a traditional subject in Chinese religious painting. and poetry. The allegorical composition depicts the three founders of China's major religious and philosophical traditions: Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism. The theme in the painting has been variously interpreted as affirming the harmony and unity of the three faiths and traditions of China or as favoring Taoism relative to the others.


The three sages of the tale are dipping their fingers in a vat of vinegar and tasting it; one man reacts with a sour expression, one reacts with a bitter expression, and one reacts with a sweet expression. The three men are Confucius, Buddha, and Lao Zi, respectively. Each man's expression represents the predominant attitude of his religion and ethos: Confucianism saw life as sour, in need of rules, ritual and restraint to correct the degeneration of the people; Buddhism saw life as bitter, dominated by pain and suffering, slavery to desire and the false illusion of Maya; and Taoism saw life as fundamentally good in its natural state. Another interpretation of the painting is that, since the three men are gathered around one vat of vinegar, the "three teachings" are one.


CONFUCIANISM

Confucianism saw life as sour, in need of rules, social discipline and restraint to correct the degeneration of people; the present was out of step with a more "golden" past and that the government had no understanding of the way of the universe—the right response was to worship the ancestors, purify and support tradition, instil ethical understanding, and strengthen social and family bonds. Confucianism, being concerned with the outside world, thus viewed the "vinegar of life" as "adulterated wine" needing social cleansing.


BUDDHISM

Buddhism was founded by Siddhartha Gautama, who first pursued then rejected philosophy and asceticism before discovering enlightenment through meditation. He concluded that we are bound to the cycles of life and death because of tanha (desire, thirst, craving). During Buddha's first sermon he preached, "neither the extreme of indulgence nor the extremes of asceticism was acceptable as a way of life and that one should avoid extremes and seek to live in the Middle Way". "Thus the goal of basic Buddhist practice is not the immediate achievement of a state of "Nirvana" or bliss in some heaven but the extinguishing of tanha, or desire leading to fatal illusion. When tanha is extinguished, one is released from the cycle of life---birth, suffering, death, and rebirth---only then can one achieve Nirvana.

One interpretation is that Buddhism, being concerned with the self, viewed the vinegar as a polluter of the taster's body due to its extreme flavor. Another interpretation for the image is that Buddhism reports the facts are as they are, that vinegar is vinegar and isn't naturally sweet on the tongue. Trying to make it sweet is ignoring what it is, pretending it is sweet---living for illusion or Maya---is denying what it is, while the equally harmful opposite is being overly disturbed by the sourness. Detachment, reason and moderation are thus required.

TAOISM

Taoism saw life as fundamentally good in its natural state.
From the Taoist point of view, sourness and bitterness come from the interfering and unappreciative mind. Life itself, when understood and utilized for what it is, is sweet, despite its occasional sourness and bitterness. In "The Vinegar Tasters" Lao Zi's (Lao Tzu) expression is sweet because of how the religious teachings of Taoism view the world. Every natural thing is intrinsically good as long as it remains true to its nature. This perspective allows Lao Zi to experience the taste of vinegar without judging it, knowing that nature will restore its own balance transcending any extreme, via Yin and Yang and "The Dao," the underlying Supreme Creative Dialectic driving all things and human experiences.




LI BAI (LI PO), SUPREME TANG DYNASTY LYRICIST AND TAOIST ADEPT




Li Bai (701-762) came from an obscure, possibly Turkish background and unlike other Tang poets did not attempt to take the Imperial Examination to become a scholar-official. He was infamous for his exuberant drunkenness, hard partying and "bad boy" romantic lifestyle. In his writing he chose freer forms closer to the folk songs and natural voice, though laced with playful fancy, as in the famous example of his lyric conversations with the moon. He frequented Taoist temples and echoed the Taoist embrace of the natural human emotions and feelings; that connection got him an appointment to the Imperial Court, but his misbehaviour soon ended in his dismissal. Nonetheless, he became famous and invited into the best circles to recite his works. He emphasized spontanaeity and freedom of expression in his works, yet created works of extraordinary depth of feeling:


Drinking Alone With the Moon

A pot of wine amoung the flowers.
I drink alone, no friend with me.
I raise my cup to invite the moon.
He and my shadow and I make three.

The moon does not know how to drink;
My shadow mimes my capering;
But I'll make merry with them both---
And soon enough it will be Spring.

I sing--the moon moves to and fro.
I dance--my shadow leaps and sways.
Still sober, we exchange our joys.
Drunk--and we'll go our separate ways.

Let's pledge---beyond human ties---to be friends,
And meet where the Silver River ends.



Popular legend has it that Li Bai died in such a drunken fit, carousing alone on a boat on a like, when he, drunk, leaned overboard to embrace the reflecion of the moon in the waters, and drowned.



DU FU---SUPREME POET OF SOCIAL CONSCIENCE AND ENLIGHTENED CONFUCIAN SPIRIT


Du Fu (712-770) was the grandson of a famous court poet, and took the Imperial Examination twice, but faied both times. His talent for poetry became known to the emperor, however, who arranged a special examination to allow his admittance as a court scholar-official. His outspoken social conscience, denunciation of injustice and insistence on following the pure ideals of Confucianism however, alienated higher officials and his career was confined to minor posts in remote provinces, and his travels and observations were often the occasion of his poetry. He acutely rendered human suffering, particularly of the common people, and his stylistic complexity and excellence made him the "poet's poet" as well as the "people's poet" for centures, as exemplified in his famous "Ballad of the Army Carts:"


Ballad of the Army Carts


Carts rattle and squeak,
Horses snort and neigh---
Bows and arrows at their waists, the conscripts march away.
Fathers, mothers, children, wives run to say good-bye.
The Xianyang Bridge in clouds of dust is hidden from the eye.
They tug at them and stamp their feet, weep, and obstruct their way.
The weeping rises to the sky.
Along the road a passer-by
Questions the conscripts. They reply:

They mobilize us constantly. Sent northwards at fifteen
To guard the River, we were forced once more to volunteer,
Though we are forty now, to man the western front this year.
The headman tied our headcloths for us when we first left here.
We came back white-haired---to be sent again to the frontier.
Those frontier posts could fill the sea with the blood of those who've died.
In county after county to the east, Sir, don't you know,
In villiage after villiage only thorns and brambles grow.
Even if there's a sturdy wife to wield the plough and hoe,
The borders of the fields have merged, you can't tell east from west.
It's worse still for the men from Qin, as fighters they're the best--
And so, like chickens or like dogs they're driven to and fro.

Though you are kind enough to ask,
Dare we complain about our task?
Take, Sir, this winter. In Guanxi
The troops have not yet been set free.
The district officers come to press
The land tax from us nonetheless.
But, Sir, how can we possibly pay?
Having a son's a curse today.
Far better to have daughters, get them married---
A son will lie lost in the grass, unburied.
Why, Sir, on distant Qinghai shore
The bleached ungathered bones lie year on year.
New ghosts complain, and those who died before
Weep in the wet gray sky and haunt the ear.




WANG WEI--SCHOLAR-OFFICIAL, "RENAISSANCE MAN" AND BUDDHIST POET



Wang Wei was one of the most prominent poets of the Tang Dynasty, but also a famous painter, calligrapher and musician. He hailed from a distinguished scholar family, passed the highest Imperial Examination with honors and worked his way up the bureaucratic heirarchy, often assuming posts in far-away provinces. His poems displayed the high court poetic style--witty, urbane and impersonal, reinforced by the Buddhist detachment and equanimity of his religious beliefs. He became influential at the royal court until being captured in the An Lu Shan Rebellion, he was forced to work for the usurping Emperor, then punished by the reinstated Emperor. In accordance with Chan (Zen) Buddhism his work reflects the detached and melancholy view of transitory life seen as illusion. His official travels involving years of absence or threatened death far from home were often the occasion of many of of his poems:


Farewell to Yuan the Second on His Mission to Anxi

In Wei City mornibng rain dampens the light dust.
By the travelers' lodge, green upon green---the willows color is new.
I urge you to drink up yet another glass of wine:
Going west from Yang Pass, there are no old friends.





BAI JUYI (BO JUYI), AUTHOR OF THE "SONG OF EVERLASTING SORROW," TALE OF THE DOOMED LOVE OF THE EMPEROR XUANZONG AND THE BEAUTIFUL IMPERIAL CONCUBINE YANG GUI FEI




Bai Juyi (772-846) of a later generation from the other three poets, passed the Imperial Examination with honors and served in a variety of posts. He, like Du Fu, took seriously the Confucian mandate to employ poetry as vehicle for social and political protest against injustice. He also, like Bai Juyi, tried to simplify and make more natural and accessible his poetic voice, drawing closer to the people. His most immortal classic is the "Song of Everlasting Sorrow" which presents in verse the epic tragic tale of the great love affair between Emperor Xuanzong and his Imperial Concubine, Yang Gui Fei, reminiscent of the tragedy of Romeo an Juliet, which ended during the An Lu Shan Rebellion as the army accused her of distracting the Emperor from his duties and corruption and demanded her death. The poem relates how the Emperor sent a Taoist priest to find his dead lover in heaven and convey his devotion to her and her answer:

"Our souls belong together," she said, "like this gold and this shell--
Somewhere, sometime, on earth or in heaven, we shall surely meet."
And she sent him, by his messenger, a sentence reminding him
Of vows which had been known only to their two hearts:
"On the seventh day of the Seventh-month, in the Palace of Long Life,
We told each other secretly in the quiet midnight world
That we wished to fly in heaven, two birds with the wings of one,
And to grow together on the earth, two branches of one tree."...
Earth endures, heaven endures; sometime both shall end,
While this unending sorrow goes on and on forever.




SPIRITUS MUNDI AND CHINESE LITERATURE




My own work, Spiritus Mundi, the contemporary epic of social idealism featuring the struggle of global idealists to establish a United Nations Parliamentary Assembly for global democracy and to head off a threatened WWIII in the Middle-East also reflects the theme of the Confucian ethic that literature should contribute to social justice and public morality. Like Du Fu it abhors the waste, suffering, social irresponsibility and stupidity of war. Like Li Bai it celebrates the life of nature and human emotions, including sexuality. About a quarter of the novel is set in China, and one of its principal themes is a renewal of spirituality across the globe.


World Literature Forum invites you to check out the great Chinese Tang Dynasty poetic masterpieces of World Literature, and also the contemporary epic novel Spiritus Mundi, by Robert Sheppard. For a fuller discussion of the concept of World Literature you are invited to look into the extended discussion in the new book Spiritus Mundi, by Robert Sheppard, one of the principal themes of which is the emergence and evolution of World Literature:


For Discussions on World Literature and n Literary Criticism in Spiritus Mundi: http://worldliteratureandliterarycrit...


Robert Sheppard


Editor-in-Chief
World Literature Forum
Author, Spiritus Mundi Novel
Author’s Blog: http://robertalexandersheppard.wordpr...
Spiritus Mundi on Goodreads:
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17...
Spiritus Mundi on Amazon, Book I: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CIGJFGO
Spiritus Mundi, Book II: The Romance http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CGM8BZG


Copyright Robert Sheppard 2013 All Rights Reserve

[James · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tu Fu was one of China's greatest poets, who lived during a time of war and upheaval in his country. His poetry is deeply touched and troubled by the events of the time. David Hinton's translations as well as explanation of the style of classical Chinese poetry and a short biographical sketch of the poet give English readers an opportunity to appreciate and understand this great poet.

[Serzh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Anécdota🎠
Este libro llegó a mi vida por casualidades de la vida, literalmente. Me lo prestó un random de Asturias cuando le dije que estudiaba chino.

Reseña✨
El libro es muy fácil de leer, y a ver es Tu Fu (杜甫) un gran poeta chino. Me han encantado todos los temas que ha tratado a lo largo del libro y desde una perspectiva tan taoísta característica de la época.

[Rogel Roman · Rating 3 out of 5]

this is a review of the translation and not tufu

tu fu is great, david hinton not so much. there are verses of brilliance here, make no mistake, but it is all tu fu, not hinton's translation. this translation is lacking greatly in clarity, especially in the revised and expanded edition; why the quality of the translation and prosody regressed so much in this newer edition, i do not know. hinton's near unintelligible and broken syntax here is not used in any way to serve as foundation for faithful or literal transliterations, because obviously none of the poems in this collection are transliterated word for word, so why then? considering these translations do not even follow the strict parallelisms of the classical chinese's regulated verse, the broken syntax is certainly not there for the purpose of faithfulness but only all in an effort to be abstruse, exotic, rustic oriental, and nothing else. it is ugly and a definite far cry from something like james p seaton's stiffer but significantly more academic tang translations or jd frodsham's li he. translations from other poet-scholars like ac graham and burton watson would also serve you a whole lot better than hinton's. if you're planning to read translations of classical chinese works, be it poetry or philosophy like the ttc, chuang tzu, or the analects, do yourself a favor and stay away from david hinton or else you'd be left with very different impressions of said works all with hinton's dirty fingerprints all over them. whether you're looking for something looser, more liberal, and literary or select academic studies by more serious sinologists, there is a sea of much, much better material than the like of this out there. 2.5 stars out of 5

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

Utterly and completely powerful. Tu Fu lived in the eight century during a time of social upheaval. War had an increasing impact on his life. As he reached old age, he struggled with poverty and homelessness but managed to continue writing throughout. He documented his country and its times in careful and cutting detail as well as his own inner reflections on what he saw and experienced. His poetry captures the natural world of which people are a part and evokes its processes, sublime and terrible, with equal parts celebration, wonder and despair. I will return to this book over and over. Looking forward to the accompanying analysis by Hinton, Awakened Cosmos.

“In the delicate beach-grass, a slight breeze
Boat masters teetering far up into isolate

Night, stars founder across open plains
Moon swells up flowing on a vast river.

How could poems bring honor. Career
Lost in old age and sickness, I soar wind-

Drifted. Is there anything like it: endless
Heaven and Earth, and a lone sand-gull?”

[Rae · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tu Fu's poetry is unforgettable and very moving. He lived through so many tragic events, and seeing his life through poetry is an amazing experience. His poetry can be a little hard because of the depressing atmosphere, but the emotional connection he creates in each poem is very powerful. His poetry is so rich with Confucian morality, yet he isn't preachy about it as some religious poetry can be. It is something that is ingrained in his life and, subsequently, in his poetry as well. Tu Fu's poetry doesn't always come across well in translation, so it is a good idea to find other translations of the same poem in order to find complete understanding. Tu Fu's poetry really influenced me because of the emotional power contained in each poem. He definitely deserves the title of the best poet in China.

[Christopher Sparks · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tu Fu is my kind of poet, on and on about the moon and autumn and trees. For me he is at his best when describing scenes of everyday life in the highly compressed mode of his later works.

I am pleased I knew nothing of his fame before beginning the text, but it is clear Tu Fu's accomplishment is well deserved. His talent strikes through clearly enough to make an impression in translation 13 centuries later. I have read it is difficult to not be influenced by his writing, as with Shakespeare, he is in almost everything if you dig deeply enough.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful poems, though I would like to explore different translations.

[Diana Wilder · Rating 3 out of 5]

A great poet in a not so great translation

I first encountered Oriental poetry in a very artistic publication of Japanese Haiku A NET OF FIREFLIES, put out by Charles E. Tuttle Company. The spare elegance of the form was deftly translated, and I was hooked at the age of about 8. I can't pinpoint my first introduction to Chinese poetry; my family has a long involvement with the orient, and I most likely encountered it not long after my first haiku.

Tu Fu is thought by many to be the finest Chinese poet. His poetry grew and deepened over the course of a life lived during a difficult time, and a chronological review of his poetry shows this growth. His personality shines through and his quality is very good. I am always happy to read Tu Fu.

I was somewhat disappointed with this edition, however. David Hinton is an able translator, but the flow of words was marred by a rather contrived use of line breaks. As an example, in the poem OVERNIGHT AT HEADQUARTERS, translated into four stanzas, we have it written thus:

Clear autumn. Beside the well, cold wu trees. I pass
Night in the river city, alone, candles guttering low.

Grieving in the endless dark, horns call to themselves.
The moon drifts - no one to see its exquisite color.

Wind and dust, one calamity after another. And frontier
passes all desolation and impossible roads, no news

Arrives. After ten desperate, headlong years, driven
Perch to perch, I cling to what peace one twig holds.

The translation is OK. The superimposition of a beautiful night over the poet's despair and weariness is good. But the artsy arrangement of the lines, breaking a sentence and having it straddle two verses to the detriment of the thought is unsatisfactory. This is done throughout the book.

Hinton is very capable - but techniques such as putting a break in the middle of a sentence, negating both the flow of thought and the structure and purpose of a stanza, which I found rather too often in this volume, really is an unwelcome interruption. I found some of the translations a little too attention-getting, as well.

(I wonder what Tu Fu would have made of the translations. I suspect that if he had been familiar with the Japanese technique of Haiku, he might have come up with a good one...)

[Keith Taylor · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've been reading the T'ang poets for half a century now -- and still have very little access to them in the original. But Hinton always does a good job of "translating the reader" so she/he can find entry. Good intro here giving the context of the translations, a very helpful biography of the poet at the back, followed by notes to the poems. The translations read well, even with occasional inversions or lack of articles, all done, I think, to reflect the formal considerations Du made in the Chinese (but what do I know of 8th century Chinese prosody!?).

Du made choices. He lived mostly in poverty (and took his wife and children there, too). He travelled a lot, mostly because of political or military threats, and died in exile. All of this is reflected in the poems. I think many readers who think of T'ang poetry only as a kind of nature poetry, would find this revelatory, although I continue to be deeply moved by very specific references to the birds, waters and trees that surrounded Du 1300 years ago.

[Burgi Zenhaeusern · Rating 5 out of 5]

I say this as a simple reader, who lacks any language, contextual and historical knowledge, I absolutely enjoyed reading these new translations by David Hinton, especially after reading the companion book, Awakened Cosmos, the Mind of Classical Chinese Poetry, David Hinton (Shambala, 2019). Following Tu Fu's challenging life through the unique and incredible lens of his poems was so engrossing that I was sad to come to the end of the book. The translations feel very much alive and immediate, a clear and distinct voice coming through. I was fascinated by Tu Fu's directness, his sense of humor in the face of enormous difficulties, his empathy, and the practice of his art. But also, some of his poems show preoccupations so quotidian they could have been written by any overwhelmed parent, and in that sense feel like postcards from over a millenium ago. His children and his wife endured hardship after hardship at his side or separated from him during wartime, and it makes one wonder how they survived after his death. Tu Fu's poems definitely left me curious.

[David D · Rating 5 out of 5]

After reading "Awakened Cosmos" by the same author, going deeper into the translations, made this awareness spring forth: that translations match us with the poet/poem, for our time. That makes reading translations of, especially, Chinese poetry almost superficial unless read side-by-side and with historical biographical information at hand. Reading an ancient Chinese poem should take about as much time as it did to write it. Unless one just wants to be lightly brushed, entertained, of course.

These translations are almost the poem-between-the-lines... and that's a good thing. Hinton does the best translation work of anyone to site the poem "in situ." I really can't read ancient Chinese poetry by any other translator anymore (such romantic, wordy delusions). Granted, his explanations and annotations can bog you down, but just pick up the poem again and read it after you've "paid your dues" - you'll find the effort rewarded. (This review pertains to the newly expanded and translated version published in 2020.)

[Daniel Skyle · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love Du Fu´s poetry. I have read it a lot over my life, both in Chinese and English, and keep coming back to it. He had such an amazing, simple style, yet it hides great depth, and it has affected my own writing and poetry a lot.

He was also a refugee, grief-stricken and battered like driftwood on the waves of civil war in 8th century China. It was one of the inspirations for one of my own collections of poetry, and I had modern-day refugees read some of his poems from 1300 years ago, and they nodded: "This is what I saw, too."

Such an amazingly clear voice, to me it feels like he is sitting next to me as I read. This is a really good program on him; it´s in English, with Michael Wood presenting, and Ian McKellen reading the poems. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sm0lz...

[Nick · Rating 5 out of 5]

I kept thinking of Gerard Manley Hopkins while reading this astonishingly beautiful collection of Tu Fu's poetry. Hinton achieves the same kind of language compression that Hopkins does in his nature poems:

Left hand, off land, I hear the lark ascend,
⁠His rash-fresh re-winded new-skeinèd score
⁠In crisps of curl off wild winch whirl, and pour
And pelt music, till none 's to spill nor spend.

Tu Fu's world feels remarkably present and fresh as a result; his banishment to the outer reaches of the Chinese world might have happened in the last 50 years instead of hundreds of years ago.

White houses vanishing in mist along water,
azure peaks ranged above maple shorelines,

it aches: winter's malarial fire aches. Grief
and these drizzling rains drizzle on and on,

drums welcoming ghosts never summoned
and crossbows slaughtering guardian owls.

[David N. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I do not know Chinese, so I cannot evaluate the claims pro and con regarding the quality of the translation. A ch'an master I know (American) who is also a poet says that Hinton is the best, though. In any case, I loved these poems, and fell in love with Tu Fu as well. I think you will too. Read from the beginning to the end. It leaves a strong imprint. BTW - I know some are troubled by the translation of place names rather than the use of the Chinese language for these names - I did not mind at all. In fact I did not know that Chinese place names meant anything at all....
Is Tu Fu the greatest poet of all time? Perhaps. Certainly up there with the psalmist and the other poets of the Hebrew Bible, as well as Homer and Virgil.

[Edward Rathke · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read Tu Fu so long ago that I really didn't remember his poetry at all.

It's very interesting, especially when compared to his contemporaries. He seems much more concerned with the bigger questions of state. Whereas many of his contemporaries were sticking to the Tao and Confucian teaching with a focus on every day events, on nature, on the simple beauty of living, Tu Fu was chronicling the chaos of An Lushan's rebellion and the subsequent decades of brutality. The ravages of war are thick in your eyes, ears, and mouth when reading these poems.

Even as he grew older and moved far from the chaos, war and suffering were still in his poems. Perhaps it's because of the Tibetan raids encroaching from the west or because his health declined and continued to worsen over the last two decades of his life, but there's a deep sense of sorrow in his poems. There are poems with the lightness of Li Bo, but many more are somber affairs.

But, yes, it's Tu Fu, and this kind of brilliance, regardless how old, never really goes out of style.

[Zuska · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading this book is simultaneously like meditating - each poem is a meditation, sometimes I read an individual poem three or four or five times over - and like traveling with Tu Fu through all the journeys of his life, and like a history lesson/tutorial about the age in which Tu Fu lived and how it is reflected in his poems. Hinton does a remarkable job of guiding the reader through the poems and Tu Fu's life. This is a book to return to again and again. Tu Fu's poems, written in the 700s, are ageless. This translation with commentary and guide is a true gift for English speaking readers.

[Kimberly · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tu Fu (or Du Fu) along with Li Po are regarded as the greatest of Tang poets. Lovely language – if only I could read it and appreciate it in its original form...I'll have to keep wishing.

Didn't read this exact book. Poems I've read by Tu Fu:
Painted Hawk
Moonlight Night
Spring Prospect
Qiang Village I
My Thatched Roof is Ruined by the Autumn Wind
I Stand Alone
Spending the Night in a Tower by the River
Thoughts while Travelling at Night
Ballad of the Firewood Vendors
Autumn Meditations IV

[Ommiolgi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tu Fu is revered as the best poet of ancient China. He lived in the mid to late 700’s. His poetry is districtly Chinese, and ver interesting to read, this book ties the poems chronologically to a succinct biography at the end of the book which expands the understanding and appreciation of the work.

Would recommend to others, although poetry readers will enjoy the most.

[Jade · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

It was ok. I liked some of the imagery, but I found the style of writing (which I realize now was chosen by the editor) was not super intriguing. Good subject, but not my favorite writing. Some of the poems I loved, though. Just much fewer than I was expecting.

[Sreena · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sitting alone in the dark, I think of you
far away.
Tonight, the wind carries
your voice through the clouds,
whispering love and longing.

Every time I have read these poems, I feel like being witnessing the ancient China during the Tang Dynasty.