Adorning my newly-transformed house is calligraphy that my old friend Tian Qing wrote for me over thirty years ago, rather before he became an eminent cultural pundit. Among his endless stories, I’m always amused by the telegram he sent me from Beijing as we prepared for the Wutaishan monks’ UK tour in 1992, and the one about misreading a restaurant sign…

The couplet comes from a poem by the early-Tang poet Chen Zi’ang (661–702), who served as an advisor to Empress Wu Zetian, and (by an interesting coincidence) spent time in prison.

Chen composed the poem (see e.g. here and here) in 692 in praise of the illustrious Chan Buddhist master Yuanhui 圆晖. It’s generously titled

《同王员外雨后登开元寺南樓因酬晖上人獨坐山亭有贈 》

鐘梵經行罷，香床坐入禪
岩庭交雜樹，石濑瀉鳴泉
水月心方寂，雲霞思獨玄
寧知人世里，疲病苦攀缘

The couplet in question evokes Yuanhui’s meditation:

 Moon in water, heart at last tranquil
Clouds and haze, pondering particularly profound

The moon reflected in water is a Buddhist metaphor for the illusory nature of life (cf. the early-Qing-dynasty Shunzhi emperor’s long poem on impermanence, recited for rituals by the Li family Daoists until the 1960s). Tang poets frequently extolled their interactions with Chan Buddhist masters (see e.g. here).

Tian Qing, Beijing 1987.

I don’t know if this was at the back of Tian Qing’s mind, but apart from our proclivity for Chan (Zen), the opening character of the poem is zhong 鐘 (bell), my Chinese surname, accompanying the vocal liturgy that I was just getting to know (mainly among household rather than temple ritual specialists)… I can’t find an English translation of the complete poem by someone who actually knows about Tang poetry, so here’s my very approximate rendition (“Hey, I’m just a fiddle player”: revisions welcome!):

Finished are sounds of bell with chant, and scripture ambulation
On incense platform he sits to enter meditation

Rock garden interspersed with trees
Eddying of rocks, swirling round resounding spring

Moon in water, heart at last tranquil
Clouds and haze, pondering particularly profound

How could he know, among the human world,
Our fatigue and disease at the bitter social climb?

For me, the couplet makes an endearing reminder of early years studying Tang culture at Cambridge (note especially Denis Twitchett and Laurence Picken), followed by the guidance of Tian Qing and other mentors at the Music Research Institute in Beijing (for the transition, see Ray Man, and under Other publications).

* * *

Besides Tian Qing’s many reflections on the Intangible Cultural Heritage (in English, see this interview with Ian Johnson), for his calligraphy and painting, see Fayu chanfeng: Tian Qing shuhua zuopin ji 法雨禅风：田青书画作品集 (2014). For his writings on Buddhism, see e.g. his book Chan yu yue 禅与乐 [Zen and music] (2012) and Liu Hongqing 刘红庆, Foxin 佛心 (2007)—for Liu’s harrowing study of blind bards in Shanxi (whom Tian Qing also promoted), click here. And for the bond between qin zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting, see masters featured in The qin zither under Maoism.

Happy times following adversity:
Tian Qing leading England tour of Tianjin Buddhist Music Troupe, 1993:
left, with Rowan Pease; right, pub session.