Two poems by Han Shan on the transience of youth for Spring and Summer swiftly lead to Fall and Winter:
7.
A moth-browed girl in town
how her pendants chime
teasing a parrot before the flowers
playing a lute beneath the moon
her singing echoes for months
thousands watch her briefest dance
but surely this won't last
the hibiscus can't bear cold
8.
A fine young man on horseback
waves his whip at the willows
he can't imagine death
he builds no boat or ladder
the seasonal flowers are lovely
until the day they wither and fade
rock sugar and clarified butter
mean nothing when you're dead
The Collected Songs of Cold Mountain
Copper Canyon Press
trans. by Red Pine
The following notes are abstracted from the collection of poems
7. -the young woman is probably a member of a traveling troupe of entertainers
-the hibiscus is called "the cold-fearing flower" and dies at the first sign of fall
-fall, of course, signifies the approach of winter, the season of death (my comment)
8. -boat or ladder: Buddhists use the symbol of a boat for their spiritual discipline
-ladder refers to the search of wandering Taoists to reach inaccessible places when looking for plants to concoct their elixirs.
-"Rock sugar and clarified butter (ghee) represent the taste of liberation, refined of all impurities."
-In other words, after death it's too late to strive for enlightenment (my comment).
I think Shakespeare would agree:
"Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, all come to dust."
Cymbeline, Act IV, Scene II
Showing posts with label on the brevity of life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label on the brevity of life. Show all posts
Monday, November 11, 2013
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Otomo no Yakamochi (718?--785 AD): a lament
I think I've said this before, but just in case I haven't, I'm always surprised as I read poems and stories from various cultures and times at the universality of certain themes. It's almost as if these were part of our DNA. In how many stories and poems that you have read have the themes of the following poem appeared? The shortness of life? The transitoriness of all around us? Nature as an exemplar?
A lament on the ephemerality of life
The life a man leads
is but a transient affair:
so it has been said
through all the generations
since the ancient time
when heaven and earth began.
Observed from afar
on the broad plain of heaven,
the radiant moon
sometimes waxes, sometimes wanes;
so, too, with treetops
in the foot-wearying hills:
when springtime arrives
they glow with blossom's beauty,
and in the autumn
their leaves of many colors
are touched by dew and frost
and scatter before the wind.
The life of a man
seems to be no different.
The pink flush of youth
fades from the complexion,
the raven tresses,
black as leopard-flower seeds,
take on a new hue;
the morning smile dies at dusk.
I am powerless
to hold back the tears that fall
like a flooding rain
when I think of man's transience,
of how he declines
with changes invisible
as a blowing wind,
with changes unremitting
as the flow of a river.
Envoys
It is precisely
because all is transient
that even mute trees
put forth blossoms in springtime
and in autumn shed brown leaves.
When I contemplate
the brevity of man's life,
I am indifferent
to worldly things: how many
are the days I spend in thought!
-- Otomo no Yakamochi --
from Traditional Japanese Poetry: An Anthology
Steven D. Carter, trans.
This poem was written some twelve hundred years ago in a different culture, but I don't think one needs a degree in literature to understand it completely.
A lament on the ephemerality of life
The life a man leads
is but a transient affair:
so it has been said
through all the generations
since the ancient time
when heaven and earth began.
Observed from afar
on the broad plain of heaven,
the radiant moon
sometimes waxes, sometimes wanes;
so, too, with treetops
in the foot-wearying hills:
when springtime arrives
they glow with blossom's beauty,
and in the autumn
their leaves of many colors
are touched by dew and frost
and scatter before the wind.
The life of a man
seems to be no different.
The pink flush of youth
fades from the complexion,
the raven tresses,
black as leopard-flower seeds,
take on a new hue;
the morning smile dies at dusk.
I am powerless
to hold back the tears that fall
like a flooding rain
when I think of man's transience,
of how he declines
with changes invisible
as a blowing wind,
with changes unremitting
as the flow of a river.
Envoys
It is precisely
because all is transient
that even mute trees
put forth blossoms in springtime
and in autumn shed brown leaves.
When I contemplate
the brevity of man's life,
I am indifferent
to worldly things: how many
are the days I spend in thought!
-- Otomo no Yakamochi --
from Traditional Japanese Poetry: An Anthology
Steven D. Carter, trans.
This poem was written some twelve hundred years ago in a different culture, but I don't think one needs a degree in literature to understand it completely.
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