Li Bai

It's so good.

Outside, there's a poetic sign referencing the famous poet, Li Bai.

It says, "Li Bai writes 100 poems for a dou of wine, sleeping in the taverns of Chang'an."

Now, a dou is an ancient measure of volume, roughly equivalent to 10 liters.

Notice the friction there between the divine clue and the earthly reality.

What do you mean?

Well, the prophecy gave them the poetic name, the essence of the location, but local vernacular, the way people actually talk, is different.

Oh, right.

The couple also donated several other masterpieces that today rank among the most important works in the collections of the Palace Museum, better known internationally as the Forbidden City.

Zhang even helped transfer Xiangyangtai Tie, the only surviving calligraphic work attributed to the great Tang dynasty poet Li Bai.

Government officials attempted to reward him financially, but he declined substantial compensation and accepted only a certificate of recognition.

This extraordinary generosity explains why later generations would claim that Zhang had donated half of the Forbidden City.

The masterpieces he saved now belong not to a single collector, but to an entire nation.

That is why Zhang Boju remains such a fascinating figure today.

He was a collector, poet, opera enthusiast, patriot, and cultural guardian.

More importantly, he understood that great works of art are never truly owned.

Their voice is in the twelve pipes, here.

By Rihaku, eighth century AD.

End of poem.

This recording is in the public domain.

If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang, please let me know beforehand.

I will come out to meet you as far as Chofusa.

By Rihaku.

End of poem.

How would you describe it, and what is the social context that gives this book its meaning?

Um, so yeah, first of all, I have to say that the title that I managed to come up with is probably inadequate, um, because 永结无情游 is taken from a poem by the legendary Chinese Tang dynasty poet, Li Bai.

But it definitely touches upon some of the themes of this novel, which is friendship.

I would say the novel is not about two women, but about just one woman reflecting on the past two decades of her life.

Why did you choose to do that? What void were you hoping to fill, and how's it going?

Yeah.

Um, so I co-founded it with my friend, Jia Yang Li, who is a poet.

Um, back then I was studying creative writing at The New School.

Poems were exchanged between friends as gifts, recited at farewell gatherings, composed during moonlit evenings, and even required knowledge for those hoping to pass the civil service examinations.

The Tang produced an astonishing wealth of poets, And among them, two names shine with particular brilliance, Li Bai and Du Fu.

Li Bai, sometimes called the immortal poet, lived a life as colorful and unpredictable as his verses.

He wandered extensively throughout China, rarely settling in one place for long, drawn always toward mountains, rivers, and the next horizon.

His poetry captures moments of spontaneous joy, deep friendship, and quiet contemplation beneath the moon.

He wrote of drinking wine alone beneath blossoming trees, of watching rivers flow endlessly toward the sea, of missing distant friends while gazing at the same moon that surely shone upon them too.

There is a gentle dreamlike quality to much of his work, a sense of a mind delighting in the simple wonder of existence.

Legend holds that Li Bai met his end while trying to embrace the moon's reflection in a river, though historians regard this charming tale as more myth than fact.

So I really recommend finding them gone first for Bill's wit, but also for the beautiful translations and then Dancing with the Dead is a great work.

And I was brought to this by recognizing that we'd sort of skipped over a key aspect of poetry from the Tang Dynasty, which is sometimes known as the Golden Age of Zen, where we looked at a couple of poems, Wang Wei and Li Po and Du Fu.

And I thought I would come back to Du Fu here for a moment because Of all those poets, he wrote some of the most powerful ones out of the cultural catastrophe that was the An Lushan Rebellion.

The Tang Dynasty was one of the great eras of literacy in world history.

Yes, and speaking of which, let's just share two pieces, two poem pieces to our listeners just to feel that whole vibe of homesickness and a genuine appreciation of the moon.

We'll start with 正夜思, A Tranquil Night by Li Bai from Tang Dynasty.

And this version is translated by Xu Yanchong, a famous Chinese translator.

Before my bed, a pool of light.

Yeah, I can totally feel that kind of

tranquil and peaceful moment of that day.

And Li Bai, the author of that poem, one of the more famous poets in Chinese history.

Yes, he is.