EDWARD L. SHAUGHNESSY
The Classic of Poetry is the oldest collection of poetry from China, with 305 poems in total from the beginning of the Zhou dynasty (1045-256 BCE), the oldest from about 1000 BCE, the youngest from about 600 BCE. The poems are traditionally divided into three different types: “Hymns,” the most ancient of which are more or less simple prayers sung in the course of rituals offered to the dynastic ancestors; “Odes,” typically more elaborate songs about the exploits of culture heroes or complaints about contemporary political troubles; and “Airs,” folk songs said to have been collected from the peoples of the various independent states into which the Zhou realm eventually divided.
The Classic of Poetry was the scripture of first resort for writers of all philosophical persuasions in ancient China, lines from it routinely quoted at the end of arguments as proof of the classical authority of those arguments. For these writers, the Hymns and Odes tended to carry the greatest weight; it didn’t matter what the poem itself was about, if a line or two could be understood to speak to the context of the argument in question, it was ripe for quotation. By the Han dynasty (202 BCE-220 CE), the complete collection came to be studied as an integral system. Commentators sought to place each poem in a specific historical context. For the Hymns and Odes, this almost invariably concerned the great kings at the beginning of the Western Zhou (1045-771 BCE) period, or the evil kings at the end of that period. The Airs, on the other hand, were thought mainly to be from a later period, though they too were said to concern the rulers of the states, even when the content of the poems manifestly concerned the common people. This historical turn influenced most readings of the Classic of Poetry for the next two millennia, despite occasional suggestions that readers might use their own experiences to understand the poems, as with the great Zhu Xi (1130-1200 CE). Nevertheless, it was not until the iconoclastic turn of the early twentieth century that the historical impulse was subjected to a sustained attack.
The history of twentieth-century study of the Classic of Poetry is a fascinating topic, with readers bringing sociological perspectives, Freudian psychology, and eventually Marxist didacticism to their understanding of the poems, especially the Airs. Unfortunately, it is probably a topic too convoluted for a contribution such as this. Instead, for the purposes of the Albero Project, I propose to describe in brief the function of the nature imagery—especially arboreal imagery—seen in the Airs, and then to illustrate its use in eight poems that take their main inspiration from trees.
Nature imagery has characterized most Chinese poetry throughout the ages, but its origins can certainly be traced back to the Classic of Poetry. Especially the poems of the Airs of the States routinely begin with a couplet describing some image drawn from nature, followed by another couplet or more describing an event, relationship or situation in the human realm. In traditional Chinese poetry criticism, the nature image is termed a xing, a word that means literally “to lift up, to cause to arise”; in this sense, the image is understood to evoke or stimulate the corresponding response in the human realm. Although some readers throughout the ages have resisted drawing any necessary relationship between the natural and human images, I would suggest that such correlation is at the heart of the ancient Chinese worldview. When Confucius encouraged his students to study the Poetry so as “to know the names of the birds and beasts, grasses and trees,” he was not suggesting that they become biologists or naturalists, but rather that to understand life—very much including human life—it was also necessary to understand nature. The grasses and trees all had their distinct characteristics, of which the poets had a keen grasp, and which their readers—like Confucius’s students—should strive to know.
Some of these images are probably universal, or at any rate easily understood in comparative perspective. Thus, the peach blossoms and fruit of “The Heavy Hanging Peach Tree” translated below can readily be understood as symbols of a happy marriage—even a fruitful marriage—also in a European context. Or, conversely, the willow trees of “The Willows of East Gate” evoking the weeping of one who has been stood up by his or her lover might have the same connotation also at some western gate, even one in Italy. The significance of other trees might be more local. Thus, the pear tree of “The Sweet Pear Tree” is special because the Duke of Shao had once rested beneath it, in the same way in which houses where Washington slept or squares visited by Garibaldi have special significance in America or Italy. Still other trees—or at least their fruit—probably just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Thus, as far as I know, the plum tree of “Falling Are the Plums” does not have any special aphrodisiacal power, or even necessarily any romantic connotations. However, even without knowing that in later Chinese sex texts a “slant basket”—into which the ostensible poetess places the last of the falling plums—was a euphemism for the vagina, it is probably not hard to see in this poem the despairing prayer of the last women to be chosen at the dance. This was not just a song or a poem, but a sort of incantation; by catching a plum in her basket, the singer hoped that she would induce a suitable boy to come to her.
There are scores of birds and beasts, grasses and trees mentioned in China’s Classic of Poetry, any of which might evoke for us the world of the time. However, for the purposes of the Albero Project, it has seemed appropriate to focus just on trees. I have selected eight poems from the Airs of the States section of the Classic of Poetry. Even limiting our gaze just to trees, it would be possible to populate a much larger forest than the selection given below, but in Chinese the number “eight” represents totality, for instance of directions—east, west, south, and north, as well as the four corners—and is also an auspicious sound (synonymous in some dialects with the word “to prosper”), and so I offer the Albero Project this little grove of eight tree-poems.
A note on the presentation and translation: the eight poems are taken from the “Airs” of five of the fifteen states or regions contained in the Airs of the States, two each from the Zhou Nan, Shao Nan, and Chen Airs, and one each from the Wang and Tang Airs. These poems are supposed to derive from the respective states of the north-China plain, and probably date to the eighth and seventh centuries BCE. For each poem, I indicate the Air from which it is taken, my own translation of the title as well as the original Chinese title of the poem, and its number in the traditional sequence of 305 poems. I also provide the Mao Preface for each poem; this was probably written in the Han dynasty, many centuries after the composition of the original poems, and derives from the historical impulse described above. I would not wish to suggest that the Prefaces are necessary to understand the poems; indeed, just the opposite, they often get in the way of understanding them. Nevertheless, I provide them for those who might find them interesting. In the translations of the poems, I try to stay as close as possible to the original text, with the caveat that I try (though not slavishly) to keep to iambic tetrameter, matching the four-beat lines of the original. Other features include trying whenever possible to use simple Anglo-Saxon words rather than multi-syllable Latinate words (of course, this is not always possible in a translation), minimizing the insertion of pronouns that are not specified in the original, and very often using the progressive tense to try to avoid the problem of unspecified tense in Chinese. I emphatically do not try to replicate the rhymes of the original, but do try consciously to employ such features as assonance and consonance to reflect some features of the original.
Zhou Nan 周南
Downward-Bowing Trees (Jiu Mu 樛木; 4)
《樛木》，后妃逮下也，言能逮下而無嫉妒之心焉。
“Downward-Bowing Trees” concerns the queen reaching to those below, saying that she is able to reach those below without any jealousy about it.
南有樛木， The south has downward-bowing trees,
葛藟纍之， Kudzu vines clinging about them.
樂只君子， Happy be the son of our lord,
福履綏之。 May rites and blessings soothe him.
南有樛木， The south has downward-bowing trees,
葛藟荒之， Kudzu vines covering over them.
樂只君子， Happy be the son of our lord,
福履將之。 May rites and blessings lead him.
南有樛木， The south has downward-bowing trees,
葛藟縈之， Kudzu vines curling around them.
樂只君子， Happy be the son of our lord,
福履成之。 May rites and blessings fill him.
The Heavy Hanging Peach Tree (Tao zhi yao桃之夭; 6)
《桃夭》，后妃之所致也。不妬忌，則男女以正，婚姻以時，國無鰥民也。
“The Heavy Hanging Peach Tree” concerns what the queen-consort brings about. When she is not jealous, then men and women are correct and marriage relations are timely, and there are no unmarried people in the state.
桃之夭夭， Heavy, heavy hangs the peach tree,
灼灼其華， Glistening are its blossoms.
之子于歸， Here’s a girl who’s off to marry,
宜其室家。 Proper for her house and home.
桃之夭夭， Heavy, heavy hangs the peach tree,
有蕡其實， Swelling is its fruit.
之子于歸， Here’s a girl who’s off to marry,
宜其家室。 Proper for her home and house.
桃之夭夭， Heavy, heavy hangs the peach tree,
其葉蓁蓁， Its leaves wrapping all about.
之子于歸， Here’s a girl who’s off to marry,
宜其家人。 Proper for her home and man.
Shao Nan 召南
The Sweet Pear Tree (Gan Tang 甘棠; 16)
《甘棠》，美召伯也。召伯之教，明於南國。
“The Sweet Pear Tree” praises the Elder of Shao. The teaching of the Elder of Shao was manifest throughout the southern states.
蔽芾甘棠， Full canopied the sweet pear tree:
勿翦勿伐， Don’t prune it, don’t chop it.
召伯所茇。 That’s where the Elder of Shao camped.
蔽芾甘棠， Full canopied the sweet pear tree:
勿翦勿敗， Don’t prune it, don’t beat it.
召伯所憇。 That’s where the Elder of Shao napped.
蔽芾甘棠， Full canopied the sweet pear tree:
勿翦勿掇， Don’t prune it, don’t cut it.
召伯所說。 That’s where the Elder of Shao relaxed.
Falling are the Plums (Piao you mei 摽有梅; 20)
《摽有梅》，男女及時也。召南之國，被文王之化，男女得以及時也。
“Falling Are the Plums” concerns men and women acting in accord with the times. The states to the south of Shao having been transformed by the Cultured King, the men and women were able to act in accord with the times.
摽有梅， Falling are the plums;
其實七兮。 Oh, seven are its fruit.
求我庶士， The many sirs seeking me;
迨其吉兮。 Oh, would that one be fine.
摽有梅， Falling are the plums;
其實三兮。 Oh, but three are its fruit.
求我庶士， The many sirs seeking me;
迨其今兮。 Oh, would that it be now.
摽有梅， Falling is the plum;
頃筐塈之。 The slant basket takes it.
求我庶士， The many sirs seeking me,
迨其謂之。 Would that one might say it.
Airs of Wang 王風
In the Valley there is Wormwood (Zhong Gu you Tui 中谷有蓷; 69)
《中谷有蓷》閔周也。夫婦日以衰薄，凶年饑饉，室家相棄爾。
“In the Valley there is Wormwood” mourns Zhou. Relations between husbands and wives daily declined ever more, and there were pestilence and famine, such that families split apart.
中谷有蓷， In the valley there is wormwood,
暵其乾矣。 Scorched and seared.
有女仳離， There’s a girl who’s been left alone,
嘅其嘆矣。 Sighing and sobbing.
嘅其嘆矣！ Sighing and sobbing,
遇人之艱難矣！ Having met with the troubles of a man!
中谷有蓷， In the valley there is wormwood,
暵其脩矣。 Scorched and withered.
有女仳離， There’s a girl who’s been left alone,
條其歗矣。 Weeping and wailing.
條其歗矣！ Weeping and wailing,
遇人之不淑矣！ Having met with the cruelties of a man!
中谷有蓷， In the valley there is wormwood,
暵其濕矣。 Scorched and parched.
有女仳離， There’s a girl who’s been left alone,
啜其泣矣。 Dripping with tears.
啜其泣矣！ Dripping with tears,
何嗟及矣！ Where does it get her!
Airs of Tang 唐風
The Lone-Standing Cherry Tree (Di Du 杕杜; 119)
《杕杜》刺時也。君不能親其宗族，骨肉離散，獨居而無兄弟，將為沃所并爾。
“The Lone-Standing Cherry Tree criticizes the times. The lord was not able to be intimate with his clan, such that the meat and bones scattered and he resided alone without any brothers and was about to be annexed by Wo.
有杕之杜， There’s a lone-standing cherry tree,
其葉湑湑。 Its leaves so glossy green.
獨行踽踽， Walking alone limp and lame,
豈無他人！ Could it be there’s no one else!
不如我同父， But they’re not like my flesh and blood.
嗟行之人， Ah, you men just walking along,
胡不比焉？ Why don’t you come and join me!
人無兄弟， As a man who’s without brothers,
胡不佽焉？ Why will you not give me a hand.
有杕之杜， There’s a lone-standing cherry tree,
其葉菁菁。 Its leaves so very verdant.
獨行睘睘， Walking alone all by myself,
豈無他人？ Could it be there’s no one else!
不如我同姓， But they’re not like my kith and kin.
嗟行之人， Ah, you men just walking along,
胡不比焉？ Why don’t you come and join me!
人無兄弟， As a man without brothers,
胡不佽焉？ Why don’t you give me a hand.
Airs of Chen 陳風
The Elms of East Gate (Dong Men zhi Fen 東門之枌; 137)
《東門之枌》，疾亂也。幽公淫荒，風化之所行，男女棄其舊業，亟會於道路，歌舞於市井爾。
“The Elms of East Gate” is concerned with the pain of disorder. The Somber Duke was dissolute, and with the influence of his conduct the boys and girls rejected the old manner and urgently got together in the lanes and roads and sang and danced in the city squares.
東門之枌， The elms of East Gate,
宛丘之栩。 The oaks of Winding Knoll:
子仲之子， The daughter of Master Zhong,
婆娑其下。 Swinging and swaying down below.
穀旦于差， A ripening dawn, aha.
南方之原。 For Yuan of the South Side.
不績其麻， No longer spinning her hemp,
市也婆娑。 In the square swinging and swaying.
穀旦于逝， A fruitful dawn, off we go,
越以鬷邁。 Crossing over to join the crowd.
視爾如荍， Look at you, like a sunflower,
貽我握椒。 Giving me a bunch of peppers.
The Willow of East Gate (Dong Men zhi Yang 東門之楊;140)
《東門之楊》刺時也。昏姻失時，男女多違，親迎女猶有不至者也。
“The Willow of East Gate” criticizes the times. When weddings are not timely, the boys and girls have many transgressions; they go to meet the girls, but still there are those who do not show up.
東門之楊， The willow of East Gate:
其葉牂牂。 Its leaves weeping, weeping.
昏以為期， Dusk was when we were to meet,
明星煌煌。 The morning star’s now twinkling, twinkling.
東門之楊， The willow of East Gate,
其葉肺肺。 Its leaves sighing, sighing.
昏以為期， Dusk was when we were to meet,
明星晢晢。 The morning star’s now sparkling, sparkling.
Edward Shaughnessy is Creel Distinguished Service Professor of Early China in the Department of East Asian Languages and Civilizations of the University of Chicago. The author of more than twenty books and well over one hundred scholarly articles, his research focuses on the literary heritage of Bronze Age China.
(Photo: Rinuccia Marabotto)