Poet Gallery (V): Tao Yuanming / Li He
2008/6/22 8:34:43
Went apartment-hunting yesterday, but what I really cared about was how the thing is shrinking. The main lesion is now in the cervical lymph nodes, so we've been measuring with a ruler to track the reduction. Turns out there's nearly a 5cm difference in circumference between morning and evening measurements. Looks like going out and about helps more. The main lesion has now split into upper and lower parts — let's see how things progress. Starting yesterday, seeing that chemo alone was yielding average results, additional treatment agents were added. Credit can go to Western medicine, but what matters is getting well — the extra agents don't need any credit.
Today's gallery portrays two poets of pure essence: Tao is objectively China's No. 1 pure poet; Li He is China's No. 1 poet who subjectively chose to become a pure poet. In this regard, Li He went further than Li Bai — Li Bai's heart may still have harbored ambitions for fame and immortality, but in Li He's case, the poet's subjective consciousness soared infinitely, standing level with heaven and earth, and moreover sought to transcend heaven and earth through his pen mending Creation.
From this perspective, Li He is China's No. 1 truly authentic poet. If a poet lacks the self-conscious drive to mend Creation with the pen and remake heaven and earth, then such a poet cannot yet be considered a true poet. The Tao Yuanming type of poet — the so-called objectively pure poet — was completely elevated only after China's distorted Confucian culture took hold. The ruling class naturally loved this type of poet. Tao being praised onto a holy pedestal after the Song Dynasty was entirely the result of cultural castration.
This ID's commentary above differs from every other view held by anyone, past or present, so debate is inevitable. But carefully savoring the intellectual history of China, you'll know this ID speaks the truth. We can appreciate Tao's poetry, but the poets of a new era must be of the Li He type, not the Tao type — this point is absolutely crucial. Otherwise, the road of cultural castration will extend endlessly.
Went to continue apartment-hunting this morning after finishing the 500cc IV drip.
The poems below were all jotted down on a phone while receiving chemo infusions. Truth is, if most people had even half of this ID's diligence, they wouldn't be in their current state.
Even if you truly are a genius, without diligence, you will never become a truly great talent.
Tao Yuanming
Chán Zhōng Shuō Chán
Picking chrysanthemums by the east fence — hard to kill that heart,
Seeing the southern mountains' shortcut turns sour in its time.
Grand words sang praises to ancestors of the Three Dukes,
Lofty ambitions ground away as a clerk of five bushels.
"Come home!" — escaping the cage and its net,
Reciting odes and rhapsodies, guarding his single gourd.
Body entrusted to hills of Shan'e, a lasting regret —
Still awaiting the puffery to be raised onto a pedestal.
Li He
Chán Zhōng Shuō Chán
"Creation named me, and I shall mend it" —
On a lean donkey, sickly bones, thoughts of gods and ghosts.
Thunder and vast seas in a cup of wine,
Sun and moon's heroic writing at the bottom of his bag.
This life's work completes an enterprise for all ages,
His late master's words dissected — a lifetime of doubt.
Cloud-grasping ambitions shine in a young man's dream,
Scattering earth-shaking, heaven-moving verse.