Тао Юаньмин цитаты

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Тао Юаньмин

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Тао Юаньмин — китайский поэт.

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Цитаты Тао Юаньмин

„I beg you listen to this advice—
When you can get wine, be sure to drink it.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: Heaven and Earth exist for ever: Mountains and rivers never change. But herbs and trees in perpetual rotation Are renovated and withered by the dews and frosts: And Man the wise, Man the divine— Shall he alone escape this law? Fortuitously appearing for a moment in the World He suddenly departs, never to return. How can he know that the friends he has left Are missing him and thinking of him? Only the things that he used remain; They look upon them and their tears flow. Me no magical arts can save, Though you may hope for a wizard's aid. I beg you listen to this advice— When you can get wine, be sure to drink it. Substance, Shadow, and Spirit, "Substance speaks to Shadow" (translation by A. Waley) In A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems (1919), 'Poems By Tao Ch'ien', p. 106

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„In former days I wanted wine to drink;
The wine this morning fills the cup in vain.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: In former days I wanted wine to drink; The wine this morning fills the cup in vain. I see the spring mead with its floating foam, And wonder when to taste of it again. The feast before me lavishly is spread, My relatives and friends beside me cry. I wish to speak but lips can shape no voice, I wish to see but light has left my eye. I slept of old within the lofty hall, Amidst wild weeds to rest I now descend. When once I pass beyond the city gate I shall return to darkness without end. Second of three poems ("Three Dirges") written by Tao Yuanming in 427, the same year he died at the age of 63, and often read as poems written for his own funeral. John Minford and Joseph S. M. Lau (eds.), Classical Chinese Literature: An Anthology of Translations (2000), p. 513

„The pure air
is cleansed of lingering lees
And mysteriously,
Heaven's realms are high.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: Slowly, slowly, the autumn draws to its close. Cruelly cold the wind congeals the dew. Vines and grasses will not be green again— The trees in my garden are withering forlorn. The pure air is cleansed of lingering lees And mysteriously, Heaven's realms are high. Nothing is left of the spent cicada's song, A flock of geese goes crying down the sky. The myriad transformations unravel one another And human life how should it not be hard? From ancient times there was none but had to die, Remembering this scorches my very heart. What is there I can do to assuage this mood? Only enjoy myself drinking my unstrained wine. I do not know about a thousand years, Rather let me make this morning last forever. Written on the Ninth Day of the Ninth Month of the Year yi-yu (A.D. 409) Translated by William Acker

„The mountain air is fine at evening of the day
And flying birds return together homewards.
Within these things there is a hint of Truth,
But when I start to tell it, I cannot find the words.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: I built my house near where others dwell, And yet there is no clamour of carriages and horses. You ask of me "How can this be so?" "When the heart is far the place of itself is distant." I pluck chrysanthemums under the eastern hedge, And gaze afar towards the southern mountains. The mountain air is fine at evening of the day And flying birds return together homewards. Within these things there is a hint of Truth, But when I start to tell it, I cannot find the words. "Written While Drunk", trans. William Acker Anthology of Chinese Literature, Vol. I (1965), p. 184 Fifth poem in his series of poems on drinking wine.

„I wish to speak but lips can shape no voice,
I wish to see but light has left my eye.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: In former days I wanted wine to drink; The wine this morning fills the cup in vain. I see the spring mead with its floating foam, And wonder when to taste of it again. The feast before me lavishly is spread, My relatives and friends beside me cry. I wish to speak but lips can shape no voice, I wish to see but light has left my eye. I slept of old within the lofty hall, Amidst wild weeds to rest I now descend. When once I pass beyond the city gate I shall return to darkness without end. Second of three poems ("Three Dirges") written by Tao Yuanming in 427, the same year he died at the age of 63, and often read as poems written for his own funeral. John Minford and Joseph S. M. Lau (eds.), Classical Chinese Literature: An Anthology of Translations (2000), p. 513

„Distant, distant I gaze at the white clouds:
With a deep yearning I think of the Sages of Antiquity.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: My little children are playing at my side, Learning to talk, they babble unformed sounds. These things have made me happy again And I forget my lost cap of office. Distant, distant I gaze at the white clouds: With a deep yearning I think of the Sages of Antiquity. "Shady, shady the wood in front of the Hall" Translated by Arthur Waley

„That when the body decays Fame should also go
Is a thought unendurable, burning the heart.
Let us strive and labour while yet we may
To do some deed that men will praise.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: While you rested in the shade, I left you a while: But till the end we shall be together. Our joint existence is impermanent: Sadly together we shall slip away. That when the body decays Fame should also go Is a thought unendurable, burning the heart. Let us strive and labour while yet we may To do some deed that men will praise. Substance, Shadow, and Spirit, "Shadow replies" Translated by Arthur Waley

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„Amidst wild weeds to rest I now descend.
When once I pass beyond the city gate
I shall return to darkness without end.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: In former days I wanted wine to drink; The wine this morning fills the cup in vain. I see the spring mead with its floating foam, And wonder when to taste of it again. The feast before me lavishly is spread, My relatives and friends beside me cry. I wish to speak but lips can shape no voice, I wish to see but light has left my eye. I slept of old within the lofty hall, Amidst wild weeds to rest I now descend. When once I pass beyond the city gate I shall return to darkness without end. Second of three poems ("Three Dirges") written by Tao Yuanming in 427, the same year he died at the age of 63, and often read as poems written for his own funeral. John Minford and Joseph S. M. Lau (eds.), Classical Chinese Literature: An Anthology of Translations (2000), p. 513

„And human life
how should it not be hard?
From ancient times
there was none but had to die,
Remembering this
scorches my very heart.
What is there I can do
to assuage this mood?
Only enjoy myself
drinking my unstrained wine.
I do not know
about a thousand years,
Rather let me make
this morning last forever.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: Slowly, slowly, the autumn draws to its close. Cruelly cold the wind congeals the dew. Vines and grasses will not be green again— The trees in my garden are withering forlorn. The pure air is cleansed of lingering lees And mysteriously, Heaven's realms are high. Nothing is left of the spent cicada's song, A flock of geese goes crying down the sky. The myriad transformations unravel one another And human life how should it not be hard? From ancient times there was none but had to die, Remembering this scorches my very heart. What is there I can do to assuage this mood? Only enjoy myself drinking my unstrained wine. I do not know about a thousand years, Rather let me make this morning last forever. Written on the Ninth Day of the Ninth Month of the Year yi-yu (A.D. 409) Translated by William Acker

„Long I lived checked by the bars of a cage;
Now I have turned again to Nature and Freedom.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: When I was young, I was out of tune with the herd, [[File:Chen Hongshou Portrait von Tao-Qian. JPG|thumb|Long I lived checked by the bars of a cage; Now I have turned again to Nature and Freedom. ]] My only love was for the hills and mountains. Unwitting I fell into the Web of World's dust, And was not free until my thirtieth year. The migrant bird longs for the old wood; The fish in the tank thinks of its native pool. I had rescued from wildness a patch of the Southern Moor And, still rustic, I returned to field and garden. My ground covers no more than ten acres; My thatched cottage has eight or nine rooms. Elms and willows cluster by the eaves; Peach trees and plum trees grow before the Hall. Hazy, hazy the distant hamlets of men; Steady the smoke that hangs over cottage roofs. A dog barks somewhere in the deep lanes, A cock crows at the top of the mulberry tree. At gate and courtyard—no murmur of the World's dust; In the empty rooms—leisure and deep stillness. Long I lived checked by the bars of a cage; Now I have turned again to Nature and Freedom. "Returning to the Fields" Arthur Waley, Translations from the Chinese (1941), p. 90 Variant translation: Young I was witless in the world's affairs, My nature wildness and hills prefers; By mishap fallen into mundane snares, Once I had left I wasted thirty years. Birds in the cage long for their wonted woods, Fish in the pool for former rivers yearn. I clear the wildness that stretches south, Hiding my defects homeward I return. Ten acres built with scattered house square, Beside the thatched huts eight or nine in all; The elms and willows shade the hindmost eaves, While peach and pear-trees spread before the hall. While smoke form nearby huts hangs in the breeze; A dog is barking in the alley deep; A cock crows from the chump of mulberry trees. Within my courtyard all is clear of dust, Where tranquil in my leisure I remain. Long have I been imprisoned in the cage; Now back to Nature I return again. "Returning to my Farm Young" (translation by Andrew Boyd)

„Heaven and Earth exist for ever:
Mountains and rivers never change.
But herbs and trees in perpetual rotation
Are renovated and withered by the dews and frosts:
And Man the wise, Man the divine—
Shall he alone escape this law?
Fortuitously appearing for a moment in the World
He suddenly departs, never to return.“

— Tao Yuanming
Context: Heaven and Earth exist for ever: Mountains and rivers never change. But herbs and trees in perpetual rotation Are renovated and withered by the dews and frosts: And Man the wise, Man the divine— Shall he alone escape this law? Fortuitously appearing for a moment in the World He suddenly departs, never to return. How can he know that the friends he has left Are missing him and thinking of him? Only the things that he used remain; They look upon them and their tears flow. Me no magical arts can save, Though you may hope for a wizard's aid. I beg you listen to this advice— When you can get wine, be sure to drink it. Substance, Shadow, and Spirit, "Substance speaks to Shadow" (translation by A. Waley) In A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems (1919), 'Poems By Tao Ch'ien', p. 106

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„White hair covers my temples,
I am wrinkled and gnarled beyond repair,
And though I have got five sons,
They all hate paper and brush.
A-shu is eighteen:
For laziness there is none like him.
A-hsuan does his best,
But really loathes the Fine Arts.
Yung and Tuan are thirteen,
But do not know "six" from "seven."
T'ung-tzu in his ninth year
Is only concerned with things to eat.
If Heaven treats me like this,
What can I do but fill my cup?“

— Tao Yuanming
"Blaming Sons" (An apology for his own drunkenness, A.D. 406) Translated by Yuanchong Xu, in Gems of Classical Chinese Poetry in Various English Translations (1988), p. 100 Variant translations: White hair covers my temples— My flesh is no longer firm, And though I have five sons Not one cares for brush and paper. Ah-shu is sixteen years of age; For laziness he surely has no equal. Ah-hsuan tries his best to learn But does not really love the arts. Yung and Tuan at thirteen years Can hardly distinguish six from seven; T'ung-tzu with nine years behind him Does nothing but hunt for pears and chestnuts. If such was Heaven's decree In spite of all that I could do, Bring on, bring on "the thing within the cup." William Acker, T'ao the Hermit: Sixty Poems by T'ao Ch'ien (1952), p. 89 My temples are grey, my muscles no longer full. Five sons have I, and none of them likes school. Ah-shu is sixteen and as lazy as lazy can be. Ah-hsuan is fifteen and no taste for reading has he. Thirteen are Yung and Tuan, yet they can't tell six from seven. A-tung wants only pears and chestnuts—in two years he'll be eleven. Then, come! let me empty this cup, if such be the will of Heaven. Lin Yutang, My Country and My People (1935), p. 68

„While picking asters 'neath the Eastern fence,
My gaze upon the Southern mountain rests.“

— Tao Yuanming
In Selected Poems, trans. Gladys Yang (Chinese Literature Press, 1993), p. 62

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