dragon

For the Greek that is translated as “dragon” in English, the Bawm Chin translation uses a term referring to a mythical serpent (source: David Clark), Sranan Tongo uses the local bigi kaiman or “big Caiman” (source: Jabini 2015, p. 33), Dan uses “big snake (source: Don Slager), and Mandarin Chinese translations typically use lóng 龙/龍 which brings it in conflict with Chinese culture where lóng has a highly positive connotation.

Simon Wong explains: “The translation process often involves finding the lexical equivalent in the receptor language for words or expressions in the source language. If finding the equivalent of concrete objects from ancient times is challenging, identifying the equivalent for mythical (or legendary) figures is nearly unimaginable. In the English-speaking world (or perhaps in most European contexts), what is represented by the English word ‘dragon’ is often portrayed as monsters to be tamed or overcome, but in Chinese culture, lóng 龙 (traditional script: 龍), the commonly accepted Chinese equivalent of ‘dragon’ always represents a cultural mascot of good fortune. It is the highest-ranking animal in the Chinese animal hierarchy; it is even surmised that the pronunciation represents the sound of thunder. Dragons were also identified with the emperors of China in the old days; ordinary people were not allowed to use any portrait of the dragon. It is only a relatively recent expression that the Chinese are called ‘people of the dragon’ and that its portrait is popularized. Many East Asian deities and demigods have dragons as their personal mounts or companions.

“The author of Revelation used the Greek drakon / δράκων (which is translated into English as ‘dragon’) to represent the mythical Satanic incarnation coming down from heaven. The most popular Protestant Chinese version (Chinese Union Version, published in 1919) renders this Greek word δράκων as lóng 龙/龍. This rendering represents a long tradition that can be traced back to the earliest Protestant translations of the 1820s. Since then, almost all Protestant Chinese versions have followed this tradition of using lóng 龙/龍, a rendering that inevitably creates a cultural crash with Chinese culture. Many new converts are asked to demolish all vases or artifacts portraying this mythical figure, and some people are even asked to have their name changed if the character lóng 龙/龍 is found in their names. While modern Catholic Chinese translations also use the same rendering, the first Catholic Chinese version (unpublished) which included the Book of Revelation (1813, by the French Jesuit Loui Antoine de Poirot) used the term mǎng 蟒 (meaning ‘python’). The python’s fierce nature carries a negative connotation that is far more appropriate and indeed conveys the meaning of the Greek word far more adequately than lóng 龙/龍. In the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible with the Pentateuch completed in mid-3rd century B.C.), it was said that, when Moses and Pharoah’s priests threw their staffs on the ground, the staffs became drakon / δράκων (Exodus 7:9, 10, 12). This Greek word was used to translate the Hebrew word ‘tanin‎,’ unmistakenly understood to be ‘serpent.’ Some recent Chinese translations rightly render it as móshé 魔蛇 (‘evil serpent’). As a translation strategy, it could also render δράκων phonetically dùlāgēn 杜拉根 (see Revelation 12:3 footnote in the Revised Chinese Union Version, publ. 2010).

“The different translation strategies that Protestant and Catholics employ shows the greater Protestant emphasis on the conversion experience. By using lóng 龙/龍 for δράκων, Protestant translators emphasized the separation from the ‘old self’ (old lives), which in this case encompassed an element of Chinese culture that was often idolatrized. Catholic missionaries (especially the Jesuits), on the other hand, had a far more positive appreciation of Chinese culture that enabled them to see no such necessary point of demarcation from the recipient’s cultural context.”

See also serpent.

Translation: Chinese

很多时候,翻译者需要为原语言中的词语或表达找出对等译词。寻找与古时实体事物对等的译词已经颇具挑战,要确定神话(或传说)中实体事物的对等词更是难上加难。在英语世界中,或者说在大多数欧洲语言中,与英文dragon类似的形象通常指有待驯服或战胜的悪兽。一般来说,这个英文词在中文里面的对等词是"龙"(拼音lóng),但是在中国文化中,龙是一个代表吉祥的形象。龙在中国文化中是最高等的动物;也有说法指"龙"这字的发音仿似雷声。在中国古代,皇帝都被称为"龙",一般人不能采用龙的肖象。中国人被称为"龙的传人"可能是比较晚期的民间说法,同时使用龙的肖象也普遍起来。东亚地区的许多神明和半神都以龙为坐骑或侍从。

《启示录》作者用希腊文δράκων一词来描述撒但成为肉身,从天上坠落下来(启12:3,4,7,9,13,16,17,13:2,4)。最重要的新教中文圣经译本《和合本》(1919年出版)将这个希腊文词语译作"龙"。事实上,这个译法由来已久,可以追溯到马礼逊(Robert Morrison)在1823年发行的译本,或者馬殊曼和拉瑟(Marshman-Lassar)在1822年完成的译本。几乎所有新教中文圣经译本都沿用了"龙"的译法,这不可避免地与中国文化产生了冲突。有保守的传道人会要求初归信的人丢掉所有以这个神秘形象为图案的花瓶或艺术品,如果他们的名字中有"龙"字,传道人甚至会要求他们改名。第一本包含《启示录》的天主教中文圣经译本由法国耶稣会会士賀清泰神父(Louis Antoine de Poirot)在1813年译成,他采用了"蟒"的译法(并非完整,亦未有出版),然而现代的天主教中文圣经译本仍译作"龙"。"蟒"的凶猛体现出原词带负面形象的涵义。这种译法确实比"龙"合适的多,更加全面地表达出希腊文的意思。《七十士译本》是《希伯来圣经》的希腊文译本,其中的摩西五经于主前三世纪中翻译完成;这个译本叙述摩西与埃及术士争斗的故事时,说他们的杖变成了δράκων(出7:9,10,12)。《七十士译本》用这个希腊文词语来翻译希伯来文tanin,而tanin毫无疑问是指"蛇"。近期有中文译本将希腊文δράκων译作"魔蛇",这是很好的翻译。另外,δράκων也可以音译为"杜拉根"。参《和合本修订版》关于《启示录》12:3的脚注。

基督新教非常强调人的归正经验,弃绝"老我"(旧的生命)是人重生的一个记号。马礼逊(或马殊曼)和后来的所有中文译本将δράκων译作"龙",可能反映这个观念,另外中国文化中的要素经常会被偶像化也是一个考虑。然而,天主教传教士(特别是耶稣会会士)对于中国文化的认识要正面得多,他们认为把"龙"与中国文化语境相隔离是毫无必要的。

Translator: Simon Wong

Silas / Silvanus

The Greek that is transliterated as “Silas” or “Silvanus” in English means “lover of words,” “of the forest” (source: Cornwall / Smith 1997).

The Greek form of Silvanus (Σιλουανός) likely reflects the Latin spelling (Silvanus) of a more typical Greek name Silas (Σιλᾶς). Latin was the official language of the Roman Empire, whereas Greek was the lingua franca used in most parts of the ancient world. It was very common for a person with wide travel experience in New Testament times to have more than one name; Paul would be another example (Saul and Paul). Ancient Latin pronounced “v” as “w” in modern English; because the Greek used in New Testament times did not have a letter with “w” sound, the diphthong “ου” (pronounced as “oo”) would be its closest equivalent. This explains the relationship between the spelling Σιλουανός and its Latin equivalent Silvanus. (Source: Simon Wong)

In Spanish Sign Language both names are translated with a sign depicting “chains falling off,” referring to Acts 16:26. (Source: Steve Parkhurst)


“Silas / Silvanus” in Spanish Sign Language, source: Sociedad Bíblica de España

For more information on translations of proper names with sign language see Sign Language Bible Translations Have Something to Say to Hearing Christians .

More information on Silas .

Psalm 35 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 35 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter and the rarely used rhyme scheme is -i (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

恩將仇報

欵欵求恩主。奮起抗吾敵。吾敵恣侵略。求主施還擊。 執爾干與盾。操爾戈與戟。護我以恩佑。阻彼以神力。 明告我心魂。我為爾安宅。 挫折諸險狠。擊潰眾凶賊。 天兵加追逐。如風飄穅屑。 使其所由徑。黯澹多躓石。 若輩何險毒。無故加橫逆。設穽且張網。欲圖我隕越。 願其遭報應。身受所作孽。自陷羅網中。葬身所掘窟。 令我藉主恩。中心自怡悅。 主恩實無邊。銘心且鏤骨。誰似主雅瑋。抑強而扶弱。窮苦無告者。恃主得蘇息。
群小紛紛起。誣白以為黑。 無風興波瀾。以怨報我德。被誣將誰訴。中心痛欲絕。 曩者彼有患。吾心為惻惻。衣麻且齋戒。求主脫其厄。所求出至誠。對主披心腹。 待之如良友。愛之如骨肉。直如居母喪。心魂慘不樂。 一朝我罹難。欣然相慶祝。落井更投石。心中懷叵測。 相逼日以甚。欲將我撕裂。切齒為何因。醉酒且飽德。 此情主應見。寧能長默默。祈速保吾命。莫為群獅食。 會當在眾前。宣揚主恩澤。 莫令昧良者。欣然看我蹶。 無故樂我禍。眉目傳悅懌。所議非和平。所懷惟詭譎。域中善良人。不得享安逸。 見我遭顛沛。群逆笑嚇嚇。 吾目亦何幸。得覩此一日。 姦情實昭著。吾主寧不察。祈主毋遐棄。一伸吾之直。 發揚爾正義。無令終受屈。莫使彼群小。洋洋喜氣溢。 彈冠共相慶。竟將彼吞滅。 務使幸災者。弄巧反成拙。 但願正直人。歡呼開胸臆。大公惟雅瑋。忠良必蒙秩。 盛德何日忘。頌聲上脣舌。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with the rhyme scheme highlighted:

ēn jiāng chóu bào

kuǎn kuǎn qiú ēn zhǔ 。 fèn qǐ kàng wú 。 wú dí zī qīn lüè 。 qiú zhǔ shī huán 。 zhí ěr gān yǔ dùn 。 cāo ěr gē yǔ 。 hù wǒ yǐ ēn yòu 。 zǔ bǐ yǐ shén 。 míng gào wǒ xīn hún 。 wǒ wéi ěr ān zhái 。 cuò zhē zhū xiǎn hěn 。 jī kuì zhòng xiōng zéi 。 tiān bīng jiā zhuī zhú 。 rú fēng piāo kāng xiè 。 shǐ qí suǒ yóu jìng 。 àn dàn duō zhì shí 。 ruò bèi hé xiǎn dú 。 wú gù jiā héng nì 。 shè jǐng qiě zhāng wǎng 。 yù tú wǒ yǔn yuè 。 yuàn qí zāo bào yīng 。 shēn shòu suǒ zuò niè 。 zì xiàn luó wǎng zhōng 。 zàng shēn suǒ jué kū 。 líng wǒ jiè zhǔ ēn 。 zhōng xīn zì yí yuè 。 zhǔ ēn shí wú biān 。 míng xīn qiě lòu gǔ 。 shuí sì zhǔ yǎ wěi 。 yì qiáng ér fú ruò 。 qióng kǔ wú gào zhě 。 shì zhǔ dé sū xī 。
qún xiǎo fēn fēn qǐ 。 wū bái yǐ wéi hēi 。 wú fēng xīng bō lán 。 yǐ yuàn bào wǒ dé 。 bèi wū jiāng shuí sù 。 zhōng xīn tòng yù jué 。 nǎng zhě bǐ yǒu huàn 。 wú xīn wéi cè cè 。 yī má qiě zhāi jiè 。 qiú zhǔ tuō qí è 。 suǒ qiú chū zhì chéng 。 duì zhǔ pī xīn fù 。 dài zhī rú liáng yǒu 。 ài zhī rú gǔ ròu 。 zhí rú jū mǔ sāng 。 xīn hún cǎn bù lè 。 yī zhāo wǒ lí nán 。 xīn rán xiāng qìng zhù 。 luò jǐng gēng tóu shí 。 xīn zhōng huái pǒ cè 。 xiāng bī rì yǐ shèn 。 yù jiāng wǒ sī liè 。 qiē chǐ wéi hé yīn 。 zuì jiǔ qiě bǎo dé 。 cǐ qíng zhǔ yīng jiàn 。 níng néng cháng mò mò 。 qí sù bǎo wú mìng 。 mò wéi qún shī shí 。 huì dāng zài zhòng qián 。 xuān yáng zhǔ ēn zé 。 mò líng mèi liáng zhě 。 xīn rán kàn wǒ jué 。 wú gù lè wǒ huò 。 méi mù chuán yuè yì 。 suǒ yì fēi hé píng 。 suǒ huái wéi guǐ jué 。 yù zhōng shàn liáng rén 。 bù dé xiǎng ān yì 。 jiàn wǒ zāo diān pèi 。 qún nì xiào xià xià 。 wú mù yì hé xìng 。 dé yì cǐ yī rì 。 jiān qíng shí zhāo zhù 。 wú zhǔ níng bù chá 。 qí zhǔ wú xiá qì 。 yī shēn wú zhī zhí 。 fā yáng ěr zhèng yì 。 wú líng zhōng shòu qū 。 mò shǐ bǐ qún xiǎo 。 yáng yáng xǐ qì yì 。 dàn guān gòng xiāng qìng 。 jìng jiāng bǐ tūn miè 。 wù shǐ xìng zāi zhě 。 nòng qiǎo fǎn chéng zhuō 。 dàn yuàn zhèng zhí rén 。 huān hū kāi xiōng yì 。 dà gōng wéi yǎ wěi 。 zhōng liáng bì mēng zhì 。 shèng dé hé rì wàng 。 sòng shēng shàng chún shé 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 6 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 6 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter with a rhyme scheme based on -ing (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

懺悔吟之一【憂戚】

求主勿怒譴。求主息雷霆。 垂憐茲荏弱。康復此殘形。我骨慄慄戰。我心惴惴驚。 長跪問我主。何時救伶仃。 祈主一顧盼。援手昭慈仁。 死域誰念主。頌聲絕幽冥。 心魂困欲絕。徒此長呻吟。夜夜暗流淚。牀褥浥秋霖。 目枯因愁多。骨消緣辱頻。 傳語作孽者。無復纏我身。我泣主已聞。我求主已聽。 有禱必見納。有感豈無應。 行見彼醜類。望風皆逡巡。

Transcription into Roman alphabet:

chàn huǐ yín zhī yī 【 yōu qī 】

qiú zhǔ wù nù qiǎn 。 qiú zhǔ xī léi tíng 。 chuí lián zī rěn ruò 。 kāng fù cǐ cán xíng 。 wǒ gǔ lì lì zhàn 。 wǒ xīn zhuì zhuì jīng 。 cháng guì wèn wǒ zhǔ 。 hé shí jiù líng dīng 。 qí zhǔ yī gù pàn 。 yuán shǒu zhāo cí rén 。 sǐ yù shuí niàn zhǔ 。 sòng shēng jué yōu míng 。 xīn hún kùn yù jué 。 tú cǐ cháng shēn yín 。 yè yè àn liú lèi 。 牀 rù 浥 qiū lín 。 mù kū yīn chóu duō 。 gǔ xiāo yuán rǔ pín 。 chuán yǔ zuò niè zhě 。 wú fù chán wǒ shēn 。 wǒ qì zhǔ yǐ wén 。 wǒ qiú zhǔ yǐ tīng 。 yǒu dǎo bì jiàn nà 。 yǒu gǎn qǐ wú yīng 。 xíng jiàn bǐ chǒu lèi 。 wàng fēng jiē qūn xún

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 17 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 17 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

無妄

求主矜愚直。聽我聲聲訴。我言無矯飾。但將赤誠吐。 願主鑒中情。願主持公平。 主曾賜鍛鍊。清夜測吾心。考驗亦云詳。未發纖屑妄。凡我口所言。莫非心所想。我既抱精一。心口豈有兩。 耿耿懷主訓。習俗非所尚。驕人行殘暴。何曾敢傚倣。 兢兢履主道。未嘗循邪枉。
何為此絮絮。知主必聽之。還祈傾爾耳。俾得畢其詞。 急難求主佑。吾主未嘗辭。我今復求主。援手昭仁慈。 願主保小子。如保目中瞳。孵我於翼下。雍雍爾懷中。 既無群小慍。又免敵圍攻。
兇敵與群小。麻木無惻隱。 驕矜而自慢。相逼何太甚。 眈眈如餓虎。其勢不可遏。又如彼伏獅。穴中覷過客。
懇切求恩主。興起戮妖孽。用爾干與戈。救我脫橫逆。 更望賜提撕。俾與鄉願隔。鄉願生斯世。但為斯世活。以主無盡藏。暢恣其口腹。金玉既滿堂。有子萬事足。積蓄遺兒孫。繩繩相承續。 吾志異乎是。所求非世祿。清白歸我主。常享承顏樂。當吾甦醒日。見主便是福。

Transcription into Roman alphabet:

wú wàng

qiú zhǔ jīn yú zhí 。 tīng wǒ shēng shēng sù 。 wǒ yán wú jiǎo shì 。 dàn jiāng chì chéng tǔ 。 yuàn zhǔ jiàn zhōng qíng 。 yuàn zhǔ chí gōng píng 。 zhǔ zēng cì duàn liàn 。 qīng yè cè wú xīn 。 kǎo yàn yì yún xiáng 。 wèi fā xiān xiè wàng 。 fán wǒ kǒu suǒ yán 。 mò fēi xīn suǒ xiǎng 。 wǒ jì bào jīng yī 。 xīn kǒu qǐ yǒu liǎng 。 gěng gěng huái zhǔ xùn 。 xí sú fēi suǒ shàng 。 jiāo rén xíng cán bào 。 hé zēng gǎn xiào fǎng 。jīng jīng lǚ zhǔ dào 。 wèi cháng xún xié wǎng 。
hé wéi cǐ xù xù 。 zhī zhǔ bì tīng zhī 。 huán qí qīng ěr ěr 。 bǐ dé bì qí cí 。 jí nán qiú zhǔ yòu 。 wú zhǔ wèi cháng cí 。 wǒ jīn fù qiú zhǔ 。 yuán shǒu zhāo rén cí 。 yuàn zhǔ bǎo xiǎo zǐ 。 rú bǎo mù zhōng tóng 。 fū wǒ yú yì xià 。 yōng yōng ěr huái zhōng 。 jì wú qún xiǎo yùn 。 yòu miǎn dí wéi gōng 。
xiōng dí yǔ qún xiǎo 。 má mù wú cè yǐn 。 jiāo jīn ér zì màn 。 xiāng bī hé tài shèn 。 dān dān rú è hǔ 。 qí shì bù kě è 。 yòu rú bǐ fú shī 。 xué zhōng qù guò kè 。
kěn qiē qiú ēn zhǔ 。 xīng qǐ lù yāo niè 。 yòng ěr gān yǔ gē 。 jiù wǒ tuō héng nì 。 gēng wàng cì tí sī 。 bǐ yǔ xiāng yuàn gé 。 xiāng yuàn shēng sī shì 。 dàn wéi sī shì huó 。 yǐ zhǔ wú jìn cáng 。 chàng zī qí kǒu fù 。 jīn yù jì mǎn táng 。 yǒu zǐ wàn shì zú 。 jī xù yí ér sūn 。 shéng shéng xiāng chéng xù 。 wú zhì yì hū shì 。 suǒ qiú fēi shì lù 。 qīng bái guī wǒ zhǔ 。 cháng xiǎng chéng yán lè 。 dāng wú sū xǐng rì 。 jiàn zhǔ biàn shì fú 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 7 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 7 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter and heptameter with rhyme schemes based on -an and -ai (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

被誣

雅瑋吾天主。賴爾得平安。仇人肆誣衊。無風起波瀾。求主速營救。莫使我被害。 彼人兇如獅。吞我心方快。除主復何恃。不救吾其殆。 倘吾曾為此。有罪在雙腕。 苟以怨報德。未以德報怨。 任憑彼凌虐。雖死亦無憾。身敗不足論。名裂固所願。 我實未為此。請主奮身起。為我抗眾敵。莫容橫逆熾。 願主作裁判。高坐爾王位。眾民亦會集。環立爾周圍。 但願睿哲主。鑒察我忠義。按照爾公平。報答我純粹。 欲使惡人懼。不敢行無禮。欲使義人喜。沛然自奮勵。我主固全知。洞悉人腑肺。
主是護身盾。永保正直人。 天威何顯赫。裁判公且明。 磨刀霍霍箭在弦。人不回頭將受刑。 兵戈火箭莫不備。誰能不畏主之嗔。 惡人如妊婦。臨蓐時在即。所懷惟禍胎。所產乃妖孽。 心勞信日拙。自墜陷人窟。悖出亦悖入。自中毒人螫。 出爾竟反爾。自傷投人石。報應何昭著。絲毫無爽忒。 欲頌公平主。欲揚至尊德。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with rhymes highlighted:

bèi wū

yǎ wěi wú tiān zhǔ 。 lài ěr dé píng ān 。 chóu rén sì wū miè 。 wú fēng qǐ bō lán 。 qiú zhǔ sù yíng jiù 。 mò shǐ wǒ bèi hài 。 bǐ rén xiōng rú shī 。 tūn wǒ xīn fāng kuài 。 chú zhǔ fù hé shì 。 bù jiù wú qí dài 。 tǎng wú zēng wéi cǐ 。 yǒu zuì zài shuāng wàn 。 gǒu yǐ yuàn bào dé 。 wèi yǐ dé bào yuàn 。 rèn píng bǐ língnnüè 。 suī sǐ yì wú hàn 。 shēn bài bù zú lùn 。 míng liè gù suǒ yuàn 。 wǒ shí wèi wéi cǐ 。 qǐng zhǔ fèn shēn qǐ 。 wéi wǒ kàng zhòng dí 。 mò róng héng nì chì 。 yuàn zhǔ zuò cái pàn 。 gāo zuò ěr wáng wèi 。 zhòng mín yì huì jí 。 huán lì ěr zhōu wéi 。 dàn yuàn ruì zhé zhǔ 。 jiàn chá wǒ zhōng yì 。 àn zhào ěr gōng píng 。 bào dá wǒ chún cuì 。 yù shǐ è rén jù 。 bù gǎn xíng wú lǐ 。 yù shǐ yì rén xǐ 。 pèi rán zì fèn lì 。 wǒ zhǔ gù quán zhī 。 dòng xī rén fǔ fèi 。
zhǔ shì hù shēn dùn 。 yǒng bǎo zhèng zhí rén 。 tiān wēi hé xiǎn hè 。 cái pàn gōng qiě míng 。 mó dāo huò huò jiàn zài xián 。 rén bù huí tóu jiāng shòu xíng 。 bīng gē huǒ jiàn mò bù bèi 。 shuí néng bù wèi zhǔ zhī chēn 。 è rén rú rèn fù 。 lín rù shí zài jí 。 suǒ huái wéi huò tāi 。 suǒ chǎn nǎi yāo niè 。 xīn láo xìn rì zhuō 。 zì zhuì xiàn rén kū 。 bèi chū yì bèi rù 。 zì zhōng dú rén shì 。 chū ěr jìng fǎn ěr 。 zì shāng tóu rén shí 。 bào yīng hé zhāo zhù 。 sī háo wú shuǎng tè 。 yù sòng gōng píng zhǔ 。 yù yáng zhì zūn dé 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 18 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 18 from the 1946 edition is in the so-called Sao style (even though it’s titled a Fu style poem) and the rhyme schemes are -ian and -ang (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

凱旋賦

中心愛主兮。我生命之源泉。 主乃我之磐石與堡壘兮。亦為我之恩保與所天。藏身之窟兮。禦敵之干。仰岑樓之崔嵬兮。視兵革而彌堅。 悲我身之遭厄兮。求恩主之矜憐。竟脫我於虎口兮。信慈惠之無邊。
殺氣氤氳兮纏身。狂濤氾濫兮驚魂。 幽冥之索綯重重。死地之羅網紛紛。 身陷艱險兮求主。竭聲向主兮呼籲。主聞吾音兮宮中。哀聲上達兮宸聰。
主發怒兮乾坤震。大地顫兮眾岳崩。 鼻騰烟兮口噴火。沙石爍兮草木焚。 天幕下垂兮主親降。足踏陰霾兮雲茫茫。 駕神駒而馳騁。鼓風翼而翱翔。 披重昏以為幔兮。假靉靆而為宮。 陰陽相薄而成雹兮。絳烟起於雲中。 顯至尊之赫赫兮。震天怒之隆隆。於是噓氣叱咤。冰炭俱落。 火箭四射。敵人傾覆。 地基暴露。江海成陸。 主乃引手而相援兮。濟吾身於狂流。 脫我於頑敵兮。救我於凶仇。 固知吾主之聖心兮。恆抑強而扶柔。我既惟主是怙兮。敵雖眾而何憂。 夫其解我之倒懸兮。為愛我之故。 備承溫燠兮。所以恤我之無辜。 心地光明兮手潔。遵主之道兮翼翼。未入歧途兮居安宅。 恆懷慈訓兮無愆忒。 樂心跡之雙清兮。愼聖目之所視。 感吾主之相酬兮。實無微而不至。
盛矣哉。雅瑋之為德也。以仁報仁。以直報直。 以正報正。而以逆報逆。 蓋謙者必蒙升。而驕者必見抑。 惟主一燃吾心之燈兮。而啟吾目之矇。 雖三軍之當前兮。吾亦有所恃而無恐。既有主為之扶翼兮。應能超踰敵人之城墉。 主道純兮主言粹。能倚主兮身無危。 微雅瑋兮誰主。微天主兮何怙。 主充我兮以力。使吾路兮安固。 健吾步兮如鹿。植吾身兮高處。 教吾手兮能戰。強吾臂兮能射。 賜我以衛身之盾。佑我以聖手之力。沐我以仁。浴我以澤。滋茂條暢。實憑主德。 所履恢恢兮其有餘。脚踏實地兮而無蹶。 追逐敵蹤兮彼其潰。不予殄滅兮誓不歸。 紛紛負傷兮倒於地。僵臥足下兮不復起。 嗟夫吾之能戰兮。非吾之力也。 克服眾仇兮。仗主之德也。敵人狼狽兮逃竄。仇人就戮兮無數。 呼人人不應。籲主主不顧。 被我痛擊而粉碎兮。如飄風之揚灰。被我委棄於道旁兮。如糞壤之成堆。
主既救我於眾民之背叛兮。又立我為萬國之君。作新民以事我兮。且非我素識之人。 蓋惟同聲而相應兮。聞吾道而祇遵。苟中情其悅服兮。雖異族而猶親。 彼必泯其町畦而去其圭角兮。兢兢然棄其險固而來賓。
頌曰。欽哉雅瑋。願爾萬歲。紆貴屈尊。作我藩衛。銘心鏤骨。永懷慈惠。 相我撥亂。安撫庶類。 脫我於凶逆。拯我於暴戾。保我於萬死。登我於大位。 敢不揄揚。布芳於世。敢不歌咏。宣主之美。 主賜凱旋。於彼之王。主以膏澤。被彼元良。寵祐大維。綏以寧康。來胤後嗣。榮祚無疆。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with the particle xī, that is characteristic for the Sao style, highlighted:

kǎi xuán fù

zhōng xīn ài zhǔ 。 wǒ shēng mìng zhī yuán quán 。 zhǔ nǎi wǒ zhī pán shí yǔ bǎo lěi 。 yì wéi wǒ zhī ēn bǎo yǔ suǒ tiān 。 cáng shēn zhī kū 。 yù dí zhī gān 。 yǎng cén lóu zhī cuī wéi 。 shì bīng gé ér mí jiān 。 bēi wǒ shēn zhī zāo è 。 qiú ēn zhǔ zhī jīn lián 。 jìng tuō wǒ yú hǔ kǒu 。 xìn cí huì zhī wú biān 。
shā qì yīn yūn chán shēn 。 kuáng tāo fàn làn jīng hún 。 yōu míng zhī suǒ táo zhòng zhòng 。 sǐ dì zhī luó wǎng fēn fēn 。 shēn xiàn jiān xiǎn qiú zhǔ 。 jié shēng xiàng zhǔ hū xū 。 zhǔ wén wú yīn gōng zhōng 。 āi shēng shàng dá chén cōng 。
zhǔ fā nù qián kūn zhèn 。 dà dì chàn zhòng yuè bēng 。 bí téng yān kǒu pēn huǒ 。 shā shí shuò cǎo mù fén 。 tiān mù xià chuí zhǔ qīn jiàng 。 zú tà yīn mái yún máng máng 。 jià shén jū ér chí chěng 。 gǔ fēng yì ér áo xiáng 。 pī zhòng hūn yǐ wéi màn 。 jiǎ guā chén ér wéi gōng 。 yīn yáng xiāng báo ér chéng báo 。 jiàng yān qǐ yú yún zhōng 。 xiǎn zhì zūn zhī hè hè 。 zhèn tiān nù zhī lóng lóng 。 yú shì xū qì chì zhà 。 bīng tàn jù luò 。 huǒ jiàn sì shè 。 dí rén qīng fù 。 dì jī bào lù 。 jiāng hǎi chéng lù 。 zhǔ nǎi yǐn shǒu ér xiāng yuán 。 jì wú shēn yú kuáng liú 。 tuō wǒ yú wán dí 。 jiù wǒ yú xiōng chóu 。 gù zhī wú zhǔ zhī shèng xīn 。 héng yì qiáng ér fú róu 。 wǒ jì wéi zhǔ shì hù 。 dí suī zhòng ér hé yōu 。 fū qí jiě wǒ zhī dǎo xuán 。 wéi ài wǒ zhī gù 。 bèi chéng wēn yù 。 suǒ yǐ xù wǒ zhī wú gū 。 xīn dì guāng míng shǒu jié 。 zūn zhǔ zhī dào yì yì 。 wèi rù qí tú jū ān zhái 。 héng huái cí xùn wú qiān tè 。 lè xīn jì zhī shuāng qīng 。 shèn shèng mù zhī suǒ shì 。 gǎn wú zhǔ zhī xiāng chóu 。 shí wú wēi ér bù zhì 。
shèng yǐ zāi 。 yǎ wěi zhī wéi dé yě 。 yǐ rén bào rén 。 yǐ zhí bào zhí 。 yǐ zhèng bào zhèng 。 ér yǐ nì bào nì 。 gài qiān zhě bì mēng shēng 。 ér jiāo zhě bì jiàn yì 。 wéi zhǔ yī rán wú xīn zhī dēng 。 ér qǐ wú mù zhī mēng 。 suī sān jūn zhī dāng qián 。 wú yì yǒu suǒ shì ér wú kǒng 。 jì yǒu zhǔ wéi zhī fú yì 。 yīng néng chāo yú dí rén zhī chéng yōng 。 zhǔ dào chún zhǔ yán cuì 。 néng yǐ zhǔ shēn wú wēi 。 wēi yǎ wěi shuí zhǔ 。 wēi tiān zhǔ hé hù 。 zhǔ chōng wǒ yǐ lì 。 shǐ wú lù ān gù 。 jiàn wú bù rú lù 。 zhí wú shēn gāo chǔ 。 jiào wú shǒu néng zhàn 。 qiáng wú bì néng shè 。 cì wǒ yǐ wèi shēn zhī dùn 。 yòu wǒ yǐ shèng shǒu zhī lì 。 mù wǒ yǐ rén 。 yù wǒ yǐ zé 。 zī mào tiáo chàng 。 shí píng zhǔ dé 。 suǒ lǚ huī huī qí yǒu yú 。 jiǎo tà shí dì ér wú jué 。 zhuī zhú dí zōng bǐ qí kuì 。 bù yú tiǎn miè shì bù guī 。 fēn fēn fù shāng dǎo yú dì 。 jiāng wò zú xià bù fù qǐ 。 jiē fū wú zhī néng zhàn 。 fēi wú zhī lì yě 。 kè fú zhòng chóu 。 zhàng zhǔ zhī dé yě 。 dí rén láng bèi táo cuàn 。 chóu rén jiù lù wú shù 。 hū rén rén bù yīng 。 xū zhǔ zhǔ bù gù 。 bèi wǒ tòng jī ér fěn suì 。 rú piāo fēng zhī yáng huī 。 bèi wǒ wěi qì yú dào páng 。 rú fèn rǎng zhī chéng duī 。
zhǔ jì jiù wǒ yú zhòng mín zhī bèi pàn 。 yòu lì wǒ wéi wàn guó zhī jūn 。 zuò xīn mín yǐ shì wǒ 。 qiě fēi wǒ sù shí zhī rén 。 gài wéi tóng shēng ér xiāng yīng 。 wén wú dào ér qí zūn 。 gǒu zhōng qíng qí yuè fú 。 suī yì zú ér yóu qīn 。 bǐ bì mǐn qí tǐng qí ér qù qí guī jiǎo 。 jīng jīng rán qì qí xiǎn gù ér lái bīn 。
sòng yuē 。 qīn zāi yǎ wěi 。 yuàn ěr wàn suì 。 yū guì qū zūn 。 zuò wǒ fān wèi 。 míng xīn lòu gǔ 。 yǒng huái cí huì 。 xiāng wǒ bō luàn 。 ān fǔ shù lèi 。 tuō wǒ yú xiōng nì 。 zhěng wǒ yú bào lì 。 bǎo wǒ yú wàn sǐ 。 dēng wǒ yú dà wèi 。 gǎn bù yú yáng 。 bù fāng yú shì 。 gǎn bù gē yǒng 。 xuān zhǔ zhī měi 。 zhǔ cì kǎi xuán 。 yú bǐ zhī wáng 。 zhǔ yǐ gāo zé 。 bèi bǐ yuán liáng 。 chǒng yòu dà wéi 。 suí yǐ níng kāng 。 lái yìn hòu sì 。 róng zuò wú jiāng

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 8 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 8 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter with a rhyme scheme based on -ang (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

萬物之靈

我主在天上。聖名天下揚。諸天現光彩。妙手運陰陽。 卻從赤子口。認出救世王。童蒙識玄機。靈證微而臧。直使諸悖逆。不得再鼓簧。
靜觀宇宙內。氣象何輝煌。瑞景燦中天。星月耀靈光。 巨細莫不備。條理益彰彰。人類處其中。碌碌無所長。乃蒙主拔擢。聖眷迥異常。 使為萬物靈。天神相頡頏。皆自土中生。冠冕獨堂堂。 萬物供驅使。取之如探囊。 空中有飛鳥。地上有牛羊。 尚有魚鱗族。優游水中央。悉歸人掌管。樂此無盡藏。 飲水須思源。殊恩豈可忘。但願大地上。聖名萬古芳。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with rhymes highlighted:

wàn wù zhī líng

wǒ zhǔ zài tiān shàng 。 shèng míng tiān xià yáng 。 zhū tiān xiàn guāng cǎi 。 miào shǒu yùn yīn yáng 。 què cóng chì zǐ kǒu 。 rèn chū jiù shì wáng 。 tóng mēng shí xuán jī 。 líng zhèng wēi ér zāng 。 zhí shǐ zhū bèi nì 。 bù dé zài gǔ huáng
jìng guān yǔ zhòu nèi 。 qì xiàng hé huī huáng 。 ruì jǐng càn zhōng tiān 。 xīng yuè yào líng guāng 。 jù xì mò bù bèi 。 tiáo lǐ yì zhāng zhāng 。 rén lèi chǔ qí zhōng 。 lù lù wú suǒ cháng 。 nǎi mēng zhǔ bá zhuó 。 shèng juàn jiǒng yì cháng 。 shǐ wéi wàn wù líng 。 tiān shén xiāng jié háng 。 jiē zì tǔ zhōng shēng 。 guān miǎn dú táng táng 。 wàn wù gōng qū shǐ 。 qǔ zhī rú tàn náng 。 kōng zhōng yǒu fēi niǎo 。 dì shàng yǒu niú yáng 。 shàng yǒu yú lín zú 。 yōu yóu shuǐ zhōng yāng 。 xī guī rén zhǎng guǎn 。 lè cǐ wú jìn cáng 。 yǐn shuǐ xū sī yuán 。 shū ēn qǐ kě wàng 。 dàn yuàn dà dì shàng 。 shèng míng wàn gǔ fāng

With thanks to Simon Wong