From Tao Qian’s poems to taste Chinese Paintings’ Beautiful Images
Tao Qian’s poems were written in a simple and straightforward style, with a deceptively sparing use of words and a minimum of artifice to depict the charming and peaceful farmyard life as well as his romantic ideal realms. After his sister's death, as well as disgust at the corruption and infighting of the Jin court prompted his resignation, he was convinced that life was too short to compromise on his principles, saying, “I shall not break my back for five bushels of grain” to show his noble virtues. He retired with his wife and children to a farming village inJiangsuprovince near Lu Mountain, south of the Yangtze Rive. Despite the hardships of agricultural life, including the loss of his house in a fire, and frequent shortages of food and fuel, Tao Qian was content, writing poetry, cultivating the chrysanthemumsthat became inseparably associated with his poetry, and drinking wine, also a common subject of his verse. Now enjoy the following poem with two versions which represents the poet’s returning to live in the South’s freshness and happiness. Appreciating the exquisite scenery the poet depicted and the beautiful images the poet used.
Chinese Chrysanthemums Painting
Returning to Live in the South
Tao Qian
Little not fit common charm
Nature basic love mound hill
Mistake fall world net in
Thus went ten three years
Cage bird long for old forest
Pond fish long for old deep pool
Start barren south fields border
Observe awkward return field orchard
Plot residence 10 more acre
Grass house 8 9 rooms
Elm willow shade behind eaves
Peach plum collect hall before
Dim far person village
Reluctant to part ruins village smoke
Dog bark deep alley in
Chicken mulberry tree peak
Door yard no earth mix
Modest room have more vacant
Long at confinement in
Again get return self right
Returning to Live in the South
Tao Qian
When young, I'd not enjoyed the common pleasures,
My nature's basic love was for the hills.
Mistakenly I fell into the worldly net,
And thus remained for thirteen years.
A bird once caged must yearn for its old forest,
A fish in a pond will long to return to the lake.
So now I want to head to southern lands,
Returning to my fields and orchards there.
About ten acres of land is all I have,
Just eight or nine rooms there in my thatched hut.
There's shade from elms and willows behind the eaves,
Before the hall are gathered peaches and plums.
Beyond the dark and distance lies a village,
The smoke above reluctant to depart.
A dog is barking somewhere down the lane,
And chickens sit atop the mulberry tree.
The mundane world has no place in my home,
My modest rooms are for the most part vacant.
At last I feel released from my confinement,
I set myself to rights again.
