磨杵成針, 磨杵成针 mó chǔ chéng zhēn
China’s golden age for art and literature occurred over 1,000 years ago during the Tang Dynasty (618 – 907 CE). The form of literature which reached its zenith during that time was poetry. From the tens of thousands of poems written during the Tang Dynasty, 300 poems were selected in the mid-18thcentury, which Chinese school kids continue to memorize and recite to this day.
Of those Tang Dynasty poems, several were written by one man from Sichuan by the name of Li Bai (Lǐ Bái 李白). When I first started reading Chinese literature in translation, I was immediately drawn to Li Bai. He loved to drink alcohol and some people thought that he wrote some of his best poetry when he was “in his cups”. He seemed to be much more fun-loving than many of his contemporaries. One of those poets was a man from Henan by the name of Du Fu (杜甫 Dù Fǔ). Du Fu had a more serious outlook on life, and was not nearly as carefree as Li Bai. He was sometimes referred to as a poet saint (詩圣 shī shèng). They only really met a few times, but during those meetings forged a strong friendship. There are several poems in which each poet reflects the depth of their relationship.
I mention Li Bai because the idiom, “Grinding an iron bar into a needle” starts with him. When Li Bai was young, he was not a very diligent student. He was much more interested in watching birdies and eating fruit he found on the ground, than he was in studying. One day on his way to school, he happened upon an old woman filing an iron bar. Curiosity got the best of him and he asked, “Old woman, what are you doing?” (Calling a person “old lady” or “old gentleman” in Chinese is a respectful way of addressing an elderly person.) The old woman responded. “I’m making a needle out of this iron bar.” To which Li Bai responded, “That’s going to take forever. Let me try.” Li Bai took up the file and filed really hard for what seemed like a long time. Finally, he gave up. “I quit”, he said. To which the old lady responded, “That’s OK. I’m going to keep on filing, because I know that eventually this iron bar will become an excellent needle.” Li Bai never forgot the old lady’s words. Eventually he understood that his studies were like filing the iron bar. He became an accomplished scholar and one of the most famous poets of all time.
I can’t write about a poet and not include a poem. “Thoughts on a Quiet Night” 静夜思 (Jìng yè sī ) was memorized by most Chinese of my generation if they were educated in Chinese schools. As a Confucian scholar, Li Bai spent many years on the road in the service of the emperor. When Li Bai wrote “Thoughts on a Quiet Night”, the mid-Autum festival (the 15thday of the 8thmonth according to the Lunar calendar) was approaching and he was yearning to be home.
床前明月光
疑是地上霜
举头望明月
低头思故乡
Chuáng qián míngyuè guāng
Yí shì dìshang shuāng
Jǔtóu wàng míngyuè
Dītóu sī gùxiāng
At the foot of my bed
the moonlight is shining,
or is that frost on the ground?
I raise my head,
and see the moon in the sky.
I lower my head,
thinking of home.
Chinese Odyssey 13
One step at a time
the pieces connected
I struggled sometimes
and was often corrected.
And then I discovered,
much to my dismay,
I had spoken no English
for an entire day.
The Panda in the Room PD 