Where Chia Tao Hits All My Favorite Notes

When I Find You Again, It Will Be in Mountains: The Selected Poems of Chia Tao by Mike O'Connor
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

When I imagine classical Chinese poetry, especially Tang era poetry, especially with a hint (or more than a hint) of mystical religion, this is exactly what I have in mind. I may have to check to be sure, but this may be my new favorite volume of poetry. So much to love here.

Chia Tao was originally a Buddhist monk, an adherent of Chan Buddhism (which we would call zen), and though he stayed in contact with other monks his whole life, he dedicated his life to poetry. His religion was a huge part of his writings, including not just beliefs but people and places--the monks, the monasteries, the mountain retreats, and so on. The poetry is filled with trails, waterfalls, trees, and the distant sound of stone chimes, leading him toward remote monasteries. There's a lot of romance in these descriptions, and I'm here for it.

This is a nice example:

Sent to a Hua Mountain Monk

From afar,
I know your white-rock hermitage,
hidden in a haze
of evergreen trees.

When the moon sets,
it's mind-watching time;
clouds arise
in your closed eyes.

Just before dawn, temple bells
sound from neighboring peaks;
waterfalls hang thousands of feet
in emptiness.

Moss and lichen
cover the cliff face;
a narrow, indistinct path
leads to you.

There's a Wordsworth/Tintern Abbey feel to this, and I love it.

The translation is beautiful. While in some places the original elliptical phrasing is preserved (no verb, no article type of language) it is very readable and clear to an English language brain, and there's not a rhyme to be seen. (Rhyming poetry in translation is unbearable to me. A harmless prejudice, I hope.) Where it's helpful, the translator has provided notes in the back, so the reader can have the assistance without marring the look of the poetry, and I give him full marks for that choice, as well.

A lot of the poetry is contemplative and tranquil, and I adore it. But there's also a lot of emotion brilliantly captured.

Mourning the Death of Chan Master Po-Yen

Fresh moss covers
the stone bed;
how many springtimes
was it the Master's?

His profile in meditation
has been sketched;
but the body of the meditator
has been burned.

Snow in the pines
has closed the pagoda courtyard;
dust settles in the lock
on the sutra library.

I chide myself
for these two tears—
a man who hasn't grasped
the empty nature of all things.

That's very sweet. Lovely.

Highly recommended for readers of Tang poetry, or poetry more generally. Beautiful poetry nicely rendered in English, it bears many re-readings.

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