The Silk Dragon, Translations From the Chinese --by Arthur Sze

 Publisher: Copper Canyon Press, June 1, 2001

Language: English

Paperback: 156 pages

ISBN-10: 1556591535

ISBN-13:  9781556591532

Cost at time of review: $14.10

5 Stars

 

The most fascinating part of this book was the introduction. I usually find introductions to books of poetry to be dry and dull. This introduction was anything but. Sze shows us how he translated the poems from Chinese to English. The Biographical Notes on the writers, in the back of the book, are every bit as interesting as their poems, starting with T’ao Ch’ien (365-427), ending with Yen Chen (twentieth century). 

 

The first poem, by T’ao Ch’ien is Drinking Wine. That sounds like the perfect way to begin this book. Quite literally, every line was a poem in itself and ends with these four lines. “I hang a jug of wine on a cold branch: / then stand back, and look again and again. / My life spins with dreams and illusions. / Why then be fastened to the world?”

 

Wang Han’s poem, Song of Liang-chou gives us these words of wisdom, “Since ancient times, / how many soldiers ever returned?” It’s nice to know war isn’t new, it’s sad to know we haven’t learned much since ancient times.

 

Li Shang-Yin gives us Untitled poems, somewhat longer than many in this book, “A candle only stops weeping / when its wick becomes ash.” The book begins to wind down with a poem by Wen I-To, Dead Water. This was one of my favorites with the closing lines, “And if the frogs can’t endure the utter solitude, / let the dead water burst into song.”

 

Yen Chen, a modern poet, closes the book out with Red Rain, the final stanza reads thus: “A droplet tints a bone. / A droplet tints a smiling face. / February rain, red rain / is silently spread on the South Yangtze.” Red Rain tells the story of rain falling through smoke in a village with a new plow blade, children running and playing, and everyone wants to plow the first furrow. The bone could be from last night’s supper, the smiling faces are the men looking at the plow, and the running, playing children who welcome the rain. 

 

The one frustration I found, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Sze had the same frustration, were the poems written as songs to melodies I have no idea about, with a high probability of being lost to the passing of time. 

 

Since most of us are fastened to this world, I highly recommend buying and reading this book, available as a paperback and an electronic version. These are poems to read individually and slowly. Place the book on your nightstand, and open at random, read before sleep. Thank you, Mr. Sze for giving us such a book.