Psalm 28 as classical Chinese poetry

John Wu Ching-hsiung (1899-1986) was a native of Ningbo, Zhejiang, a renowned jurist who studied in Europe and the United States, and served as a professor of law at Soochow University, as a judge and the Acting President of the Shanghai Provisional Court, and as the Vice President of the Commission for the Drafting of the Constitution of the Republic of China, before becoming the Minister of the Republic of China to the Holy See. Wu has written extensively, not only on law but also on Chinese philosophy, and has also written his autobiography, Beyond East and West, in English. Wu was a devout Catholic and had a personal relationship with Chiang Kai-shek (1887-1975). Wu began translating the the Psalms in 1938, and was encouraged by Chiang to translate the entire New Testament, which he corrected in his own handwriting. (…) John Wu Ching-hsiung’s translation of the Psalms (first draft in 1946, revised in 1975) was translated into Literary Chinese in the form of poetic rhyme, with attention paid to the style of writing. According to the content and mood of the different chapters of the original psalm, Wu chose Chinese poetic forms such as tetrameter, pentameter, heptameter [4, 5 or 7 syllables/Chinese characters per stanza], and the [less formal] Sao style, and sometimes more than two poetic forms were used in a single poem. (Source: Simon Wong)

John Wu Ching-hsiung himself talks about his celebrated and much-admired (though difficult-to-understand) translation in his aforementioned autobiography: (Click or tap here to see)

“Nothing could have been farther from my mind than to translate the Bible or any parts of it with a view to publishing it as an authorized version. I had rendered some of the Psalms into Chinese verse, but that was done as a part of my private devotion and as a literary hobby. When I was in Hongkong in 1938, I had come to know Madame H. H. Kung [Soong Ai-ling], and as she was deeply interested in the Bible, I gave her about a dozen pieces of my amateurish work just for her own enjoyment. What was my surprise when, the next time I saw her, she told me, “My sister [Soong Mei-ling] has written to say that the Generalissimo [Chiang Kai-shek] likes your translation of the Psalms very much, especially the first, the fifteenth, and the twenty-third, the Psalm of the Good Shepherd!”

“In the Autumn of 1940, when I was in Chungking, the Generalissimo invited me several times to lunch with him and expressed his appreciation of the few pieces that he had read. So I sent him some more. A few days later I received a letter from Madame Chiang [Soong Mei-ling], dated September 21, 1940, in which she said that they both liked my translation of the few Psalms I had sent them. ‘For many years,’ she wrote, ‘the Generalissimo has been wanting to have a really adequate and readable Wen-li (literary) translation of the Bible. He has never been able to find anyone who could undertake the matter.’ The letter ends up by saying that I should take up the job and that ‘the Generalissimo would gladly finance the undertaking of this work.’

“After some preliminary study of the commentaries, I started my work with the Psalms on January 6, 1943, the Feast of the Epiphany.

“I had three thousand years of Chinese literature to draw upon. The Chinese vocabulary for describing the beauties of nature is so rich that I seldom failed to find a word, a phrase, and sometimes even a whole line to fit the scene. But what makes such Psalms so unique is that they bring an intimate knowledge of the Creator to bear upon a loving observation of things of nature. I think one of the reasons why my translation is so well received by the Chinese scholars is that I have made the Psalms read like native poems written by a Chinese, who happens to be a Christian. Thus to my countrymen they are at once familiar and new — not so familiar as to be jejune, and not so new as to be bizarre. I did not publish it as a literal translation, but only as a paraphrase.

“To my greatest surprise, [my translation of the Psalms] sold like hot dogs. The popularity of that work was beyond my fondest dreams. Numberless papers and periodicals, irrespective of religion, published reviews too good to be true. I was very much tickled when I saw the opening verse of the first Psalm used as a headline on the front page of one of the non-religious dailies.”

A contemporary researcher (Lindblom 2021) mentions this about Wu’s translation: “Wu created a unique and personal work of sacred art that bears the imprint of his own admitted love and devotion, a landmark achievement comparable to Antoni Gaudi’s Basilica of the Sagrada Família in Barcelona, Spain. Although its use is still somewhat limited today, it continues to attract readers for the aforementioned qualities, and continues to be used in prayers and music by those who desire beauty and an authentic Chinese-sounding text that draws from China’s ancient traditions.”

The translation of Psalm 28 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter and the rhyme schemes are -ong and -i (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

口蜜腹劍

呼籲我恩保。莫向我作聾。爾若長默默。我將陷泥中。 主盍一垂顧。鑒我耿耿忠。向主發哀聲。舉手朝聖宮。 莫將我消滅。使與群兇同。彼輩口如蜜。心中含辛螫。 祈主按其行。報彼諸罪孽。自作應自受。處以所應得。 目中無眞宰。藐視靈異蹟。既為主所否。何由自建立。 可讚惟雅瑋。已聞吾歎息。 是我衛身干。是我生命力。一心惟賴主。賴主信有益。神樂湧心府。頌聲從中發。 祈保受命王。萬民食帝力。 拯救爾子民。福佑爾嗣業。長為元元牧。涵育靡有極。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with the rhyme scheme highlighted:

kǒu mì fù jiàn

hū xū wǒ ēn bǎo 。 mò xiàng wǒ zuò lóng 。 ěr ruò cháng mò mò 。 wǒ jiāng xiàn ní zhōng 。 zhǔ hé yī chuí gù 。 jiàn wǒ gěng gěng zhōng 。 xiàng zhǔ fā āi shēng 。 jǔ shǒu zhāo shèng gōng 。 mò jiāng wǒ xiāo miè 。 shǐ yǔ qún xiōng tóng 。 bǐ bèi kǒu rú mì 。 xīn zhōng hán xīn shì 。 qí zhǔ àn qí xíng 。 bào bǐ zhū zuì niè 。 zì zuò yīng zì shòu 。 chǔ yǐ suǒ yīng dé 。 mù zhōng wú zhēn zǎi 。 miǎo shì líng yì 。 jì wéi zhǔ suǒ fǒu 。 hé yóu zì jiàn 。 kě zàn wéi yǎ wěi 。 yǐ wén wú tàn 。 shì wǒ wèi shēn gān 。 shì wǒ shēng mìng 。 yī xīn wéi lài zhǔ 。 lài zhǔ xìn yǒu 。 shén lè yǒng xīn fǔ 。 sòng shēng cóng zhōng fā 。 qí bǎo shòu mìng wáng 。 wàn mín shí dì lì 。 zhěng jiù ěr zǐ mín 。 fú yòu ěr sì yè 。 cháng wéi yuán yuán mù 。 hán yù mí yǒu jí 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 29 as classical Chinese poetry

John Wu Ching-hsiung (1899-1986) was a native of Ningbo, Zhejiang, a renowned jurist who studied in Europe and the United States, and served as a professor of law at Soochow University, as a judge and the Acting President of the Shanghai Provisional Court, and as the Vice President of the Commission for the Drafting of the Constitution of the Republic of China, before becoming the Minister of the Republic of China to the Holy See. Wu has written extensively, not only on law but also on Chinese philosophy, and has also written his autobiography, Beyond East and West, in English. Wu was a devout Catholic and had a personal relationship with Chiang Kai-shek (1887-1975). Wu began translating the the Psalms in 1938, and was encouraged by Chiang to translate the entire New Testament, which he corrected in his own handwriting. (…) John Wu Ching-hsiung’s translation of the Psalms (first draft in 1946, revised in 1975) was translated into Literary Chinese in the form of poetic rhyme, with attention paid to the style of writing. According to the content and mood of the different chapters of the original psalm, Wu chose Chinese poetic forms such as tetrameter, pentameter, heptameter [4, 5 or 7 syllables/Chinese characters per stanza], and the [less formal] Sao style, and sometimes more than two poetic forms were used in a single poem. (Source: Simon Wong)

John Wu Ching-hsiung himself talks about his celebrated and much-admired (though difficult-to-understand) translation in his aforementioned autobiography: (Click or tap here to see)

“Nothing could have been farther from my mind than to translate the Bible or any parts of it with a view to publishing it as an authorized version. I had rendered some of the Psalms into Chinese verse, but that was done as a part of my private devotion and as a literary hobby. When I was in Hongkong in 1938, I had come to know Madame H. H. Kung [Soong Ai-ling], and as she was deeply interested in the Bible, I gave her about a dozen pieces of my amateurish work just for her own enjoyment. What was my surprise when, the next time I saw her, she told me, “My sister [Soong Mei-ling] has written to say that the Generalissimo [Chiang Kai-shek] likes your translation of the Psalms very much, especially the first, the fifteenth, and the twenty-third, the Psalm of the Good Shepherd!”

“In the Autumn of 1940, when I was in Chungking, the Generalissimo invited me several times to lunch with him and expressed his appreciation of the few pieces that he had read. So I sent him some more. A few days later I received a letter from Madame Chiang [Soong Mei-ling], dated September 21, 1940, in which she said that they both liked my translation of the few Psalms I had sent them. ‘For many years,’ she wrote, ‘the Generalissimo has been wanting to have a really adequate and readable Wen-li (literary) translation of the Bible. He has never been able to find anyone who could undertake the matter.’ The letter ends up by saying that I should take up the job and that ‘the Generalissimo would gladly finance the undertaking of this work.’

“After some preliminary study of the commentaries, I started my work with the Psalms on January 6, 1943, the Feast of the Epiphany.

“I had three thousand years of Chinese literature to draw upon. The Chinese vocabulary for describing the beauties of nature is so rich that I seldom failed to find a word, a phrase, and sometimes even a whole line to fit the scene. But what makes such Psalms so unique is that they bring an intimate knowledge of the Creator to bear upon a loving observation of things of nature. I think one of the reasons why my translation is so well received by the Chinese scholars is that I have made the Psalms read like native poems written by a Chinese, who happens to be a Christian. Thus to my countrymen they are at once familiar and new — not so familiar as to be jejune, and not so new as to be bizarre. I did not publish it as a literal translation, but only as a paraphrase.

“To my greatest surprise, [my translation of the Psalms] sold like hot dogs. The popularity of that work was beyond my fondest dreams. Numberless papers and periodicals, irrespective of religion, published reviews too good to be true. I was very much tickled when I saw the opening verse of the first Psalm used as a headline on the front page of one of the non-religious dailies.”

A contemporary researcher (Lindblom 2021) mentions this about Wu’s translation: “Wu created a unique and personal work of sacred art that bears the imprint of his own admitted love and devotion, a landmark achievement comparable to Antoni Gaudi’s Basilica of the Sagrada Família in Barcelona, Spain. Although its use is still somewhat limited today, it continues to attract readers for the aforementioned qualities, and continues to be used in prayers and music by those who desire beauty and an authentic Chinese-sounding text that draws from China’s ancient traditions.”

The translation of Psalm 29 from the 1946 edition is in tetrameter and pentameter and the rhyme scheme is -ang (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either and underlined proper names):

雷音

告爾天神。齊頌主德。 聖名馥馥。稜威赫赫。肅雍拜主。被爾黼黻。 主音淵淵。在水中央。惟主作雷。自彼湯湯。 厥音隆隆。赫赫有響。 厥音霹靂。折彼香柏。 麗盆西連。躍躍如犢。 轟雷既行。電光閃鑠。 曠野聞音。戰戰慄慄。迦鐵之野。斯惕斯懾。 麀震厥音。遄產幼鹿。憬彼森林。木葉盡脫。凡在殿中。莫不祝福。 雅瑋御宇。溯自洪荒。振古如茲。王權無疆。 福哉天民。恃主日強。戢爾干戈。永享安康。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with the rhyme scheme highlighted:

léi yīn

gào ěr tiān shén 。 qí sòng zhǔ dé 。 shèng míng fù fù 。 léng wēi hè hè 。 sù yōng bài zhǔ 。 bèi ěr fǔ fú 。 zhǔ yīn yuān yuān 。 zài shuǐ zhōng yāng 。 wéi zhǔ zuò léi 。 zì bǐ tāng tāng 。 jué yīn lóng lóng 。 hè hè yǒu xiǎng 。 jué yīn pī lì 。 zhē bǐ xiāng bǎi 。 lì pén xī lián 。 yuè yuè rú dú 。 hōng léi jì xíng 。 diàn guāng shǎn shuò 。 kuàng yě wén yīn 。 zhàn zhàn lì lì 。 jiā tiě zhī yě 。 sī tì sī shè 。 hú zhèn jué yīn 。 chuán chǎn yòu lù 。 jǐng bǐ sēn lín 。 mù yè jìn tuō 。 fán zài diàn zhōng 。 mò bù zhù fú 。 yǎ wěi yù yǔ 。 sù zì hóng huāng 。 zhèn gǔ rú zī 。 wáng quán wú jiāng 。 fú zāi tiān mín 。 shì zhǔ rì qiáng 。 jí ěr gān gē 。 yǒng xiǎng ān kāng

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 30 as classical Chinese poetry

John Wu Ching-hsiung (1899-1986) was a native of Ningbo, Zhejiang, a renowned jurist who studied in Europe and the United States, and served as a professor of law at Soochow University, as a judge and the Acting President of the Shanghai Provisional Court, and as the Vice President of the Commission for the Drafting of the Constitution of the Republic of China, before becoming the Minister of the Republic of China to the Holy See. Wu has written extensively, not only on law but also on Chinese philosophy, and has also written his autobiography, Beyond East and West, in English. Wu was a devout Catholic and had a personal relationship with Chiang Kai-shek (1887-1975). Wu began translating the the Psalms in 1938, and was encouraged by Chiang to translate the entire New Testament, which he corrected in his own handwriting. (…) John Wu Ching-hsiung’s translation of the Psalms (first draft in 1946, revised in 1975) was translated into Literary Chinese in the form of poetic rhyme, with attention paid to the style of writing. According to the content and mood of the different chapters of the original psalm, Wu chose Chinese poetic forms such as tetrameter, pentameter, heptameter [4, 5 or 7 syllables/Chinese characters per stanza], and the [less formal] Sao style, and sometimes more than two poetic forms were used in a single poem. (Source: Simon Wong)

John Wu Ching-hsiung himself talks about his celebrated and much-admired (though difficult-to-understand) translation in his aforementioned autobiography: (Click or tap here to see)

“Nothing could have been farther from my mind than to translate the Bible or any parts of it with a view to publishing it as an authorized version. I had rendered some of the Psalms into Chinese verse, but that was done as a part of my private devotion and as a literary hobby. When I was in Hongkong in 1938, I had come to know Madame H. H. Kung [Soong Ai-ling], and as she was deeply interested in the Bible, I gave her about a dozen pieces of my amateurish work just for her own enjoyment. What was my surprise when, the next time I saw her, she told me, “My sister [Soong Mei-ling] has written to say that the Generalissimo [Chiang Kai-shek] likes your translation of the Psalms very much, especially the first, the fifteenth, and the twenty-third, the Psalm of the Good Shepherd!”

“In the Autumn of 1940, when I was in Chungking, the Generalissimo invited me several times to lunch with him and expressed his appreciation of the few pieces that he had read. So I sent him some more. A few days later I received a letter from Madame Chiang [Soong Mei-ling], dated September 21, 1940, in which she said that they both liked my translation of the few Psalms I had sent them. ‘For many years,’ she wrote, ‘the Generalissimo has been wanting to have a really adequate and readable Wen-li (literary) translation of the Bible. He has never been able to find anyone who could undertake the matter.’ The letter ends up by saying that I should take up the job and that ‘the Generalissimo would gladly finance the undertaking of this work.’

“After some preliminary study of the commentaries, I started my work with the Psalms on January 6, 1943, the Feast of the Epiphany.

“I had three thousand years of Chinese literature to draw upon. The Chinese vocabulary for describing the beauties of nature is so rich that I seldom failed to find a word, a phrase, and sometimes even a whole line to fit the scene. But what makes such Psalms so unique is that they bring an intimate knowledge of the Creator to bear upon a loving observation of things of nature. I think one of the reasons why my translation is so well received by the Chinese scholars is that I have made the Psalms read like native poems written by a Chinese, who happens to be a Christian. Thus to my countrymen they are at once familiar and new — not so familiar as to be jejune, and not so new as to be bizarre. I did not publish it as a literal translation, but only as a paraphrase.

“To my greatest surprise, [my translation of the Psalms] sold like hot dogs. The popularity of that work was beyond my fondest dreams. Numberless papers and periodicals, irrespective of religion, published reviews too good to be true. I was very much tickled when I saw the opening verse of the first Psalm used as a headline on the front page of one of the non-religious dailies.”

A contemporary researcher (Lindblom 2021) mentions this about Wu’s translation: “Wu created a unique and personal work of sacred art that bears the imprint of his own admitted love and devotion, a landmark achievement comparable to Antoni Gaudi’s Basilica of the Sagrada Família in Barcelona, Spain. Although its use is still somewhat limited today, it continues to attract readers for the aforementioned qualities, and continues to be used in prayers and music by those who desire beauty and an authentic Chinese-sounding text that draws from China’s ancient traditions.”

The translation of Psalm 30 from the 1946 edition is in tetrameter and the rhyme schemes are -i and -u (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

先悲後喜

心感雅瑋。扶持小子。未令敵人。揚眉吐氣。 曩者有患。呼籲於爾。爾應我求。吾病以治。 肉我白骨。生我於死。 蒙主煦育。可不頌美。勗哉諸聖。讚主莫已。 聖怒一時。慈恩永世。長夜悲泣。拂曉乃喜。
昔處康樂。自謂安固。 主為磐石。寧用後顧。忽掩慈顏。心生憂怖。 哀哀求主。聽我仰訴。 小子之血。於主何補。倘轉溝壑。化為塵土。塵土何知。寧能讚主。 求主垂憐。加以神助。 主聞吾禱。化泣為舞。解我麻衣。被以歡緒。 感銘靈府。焉能默默。稱謝洪恩。永世不息。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with the rhyme scheme highlighted:

xiān bēi hòu xǐ

xīn gǎn yǎ wěi 。 fú chí xiǎo 。 wèi líng dí rén 。 yáng méi tǔ 。 nǎng zhě yǒu huàn 。 hū xū yú ěr 。 ěr yīng wǒ qiú 。 wú bìng yǐ zhì 。 ròu wǒ bái gǔ 。 shēng wǒ yú 。 mēng zhǔ xù yù 。 kě bù sòng měi 。 xù zāi zhū shèng 。 zàn zhǔ mò 。 shèng nù yī shí 。 cí ēn yǒng shì 。 cháng yè bēi qì 。 fú xiǎo nǎi
xī chǔ kāng lè 。 zì wèi ān 。 zhǔ wéi pán shí 。 níng yòng hòu 。 hū yǎn cí yán 。 xīn shēng yōu 。 āi āi qiú zhǔ 。 tīng wǒ yǎng 。 xiǎo zǐ zhī xuè 。 yú zhǔ hé 。 tǎng zhuǎn gōu hè 。 huà wéi chén 。 chén tǔ hé zhī 。 níng néng zàn zhǔ 。 qiú zhǔ chuí lián 。 jiā yǐ shén zhù 。 zhǔ wén wú dǎo 。 huà qì wéi 。 jiě wǒ má yī 。 bèi yǐ huān xù 。 gǎn míng líng 。 yān néng mò mò 。 chēng xiè hóng ēn 。 yǒng shì bù xī 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.