However varied their styles, poets writing in English today still rely on the early-twentieth-century Imagist principles of clarity, directness, presentative imagery and rhythm based on cadences. Although Imagism, revolutionary in its time, gathered force from several classical traditions, Chinese poetry was at the forefront.
Now, Crossing the Yellow River shows anew the vitality of classic Chinese poetry. Sam Hamill’s collected translations contains beautiful versions by more than sixty poets, from the Shih Ching, or “Classic of Poetry” (10th century-600 BCE) through the eighth-century masters, Tu Fu, Li Po and Wang Wei, to the sixteenth-century poet Wang Yang-ming.
As W.S. Merwin writes in his elegant introduction, Hamill’s translations stand in a long tradition of modern versions of classic Chinese poetry, notably Arthur Waley’s 170 Chinese Poems of 1918. Merwin adds: “Sam Hamill’s work, like Waley’s, represents a lifetime’s devotion to the classic originals, which survived in a long, subtle, intricate current.”
Earlier than Waley’s work, Ezra Pound’s slim book Cathay (1915) was a landmark in poetry as well as in translation from the Chinese. Pound’s contemporaries valued the tactile images and the musical freedom based on the concurrence of sounds rather than on rhyme and fixed stress counts. Still, his versions were marred by inaccuracies (such as referring to the “River Kiang” as though the river had a name, when actually the word kiang means river). “The Chinese Written Character as a Medium for Poetry,” an essay written by Ernest Fenollossa and edited by Pound, introduced a new poetic method in which clusters of images and ideas (similar to what is conveyed in Chinese written characters) would take the place of the old logic and sequence of European poetics.
Following Pound’s directness and musical freedom, Hamill returns to form, but in a far more natural way than did Pound’s Georgian predecessors. For example, in translating the work of Tu Fu (712-770) Hamill observes the couplet that follows syntactical parallelism, as in “The palace walls will divide us/and clouds will bury the hills” (“Taking Leave of Two Officials”). Rightly the tone supersedes regularity of meter and rhyme, but in his approximation of original forms he uses assonance, consonance and near-rhyme. (Caveat: I can compare English versions but since I do not read Chinese, I must rely on intuition, as well as the work of scholars elsewhere.)
The poems are radiant. “Taking Leave of a Friend,” by Li Po (701-762), reads in its entirety:
Green mountains rise to the north;
white water rolls past the eastern city.