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 10 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 10 from the 1946 edition is in the so-called Sao style and the rhyme schemes are -u and -ang (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

問主

我問主兮何故。邈然逝兮不我顧。時艱難兮困苦。主自隱兮何處。 惡人橫行兮無度。窮人被逼兮無路。設詭計兮逞狂圖。欺孤寡兮陷無辜。 驕矜自慢兮。目無主宰。刼奪人財兮。逍遙法外。 飛揚跋扈兮心誇大。謂天主兮安足怕。中心兮自忖。天主兮何存。 基業兮穩固。千秋兮不淪。坐井而觀天兮。夫焉知吾主之經綸。 恃勢凌人兮。自謂安如磐石永享康寧。 彼之口中兮。惟有欺詐與呪詛。彼之舌底兮。滿貯螫毒與邪汚。 埋伏窮鄉。殺人僻巷。 耽耽虎視。窮民遭殃。 驅無辜兮入網。 謂天主兮健忘。既揜顏兮不見。我隱惡兮奚彰。 我向主兮發哀歎。舉爾手兮濟眾難。 莫容惡人兮誣神明。謂天主兮其不靈。 詎知吾主兮早見。報應兮如電。窮苦兮無告。惟主兮是靠。孤兒兮無父。惟主兮是怙。 求主痛擊群姦兮。折其臂膀。 窮究妖孽兮。降以淪喪。惟我天主兮。永古為王。與主為敵兮。靡有不亡。 主已垂聽兮。謙者之音。必賜慰藉兮。堅固其心。 伸彼冤屈兮。保彼焭獨。莫令凡人兮。擅作威福。

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

wèn zhǔ

wǒ wèn zhǔ 。 miǎo rán shì bù wǒ 。 shí jiān nán kùn 。 zhǔ zì yǐn chǔ 。 è rén héng xíng 。 qióng rén bèi bī 。 shè guǐ jì chěng kuáng 。 qī gū guǎ xiàn wú 。 jiāo jīn zì màn 。 mù wú zhǔ zǎi 。 刼 duó rén cái 。 xiāo yáo fǎ wài 。 fēi yáng bá hù xīn kuā dà 。 wèi tiān zhǔ ān zú pà 。 zhōng xīn zì cǔn 。 tiān zhǔ hé cún 。 jī yè wěn gù 。 qiān qiū bù lún 。 zuò jǐng ér guān tiān 。 fū yān zhī wú zhǔ zhī jīng lún 。 shì shì líng rén 。 zì wèi ān rú pán shí yǒng xiǎng kāng níng 。 bǐ zhī kǒu zhōng 。 wéi yǒu qī zhà yǔ zhòu zǔ 。 bǐ zhī shé dǐ 。 mǎn zhù shì dú yǔ xié wū 。 mái fú qióng xiāng 。 shā rén pì xiàng 。 dān dān hǔ shì 。 qióng mín zāo yāng 。 qū wú gū wǎng 。 wèi tiān zhǔ jiàn wàng 。 jì yǎn yán bù jiàn 。 wǒ yǐn è zhāng 。 wǒ xiàng zhǔ fā āi tàn 。 jǔ ěr shǒu jì zhòng nán 。 mò róng è rén wū shén míng 。 wèi tiān zhǔ qí bù líng 。 jù zhī wú zhǔ zǎo jiàn 。 bào yīng rú diàn 。 qióng kǔ wú gào 。 wéi zhǔ shì kào 。 gū ér wú fù 。 wéi zhǔ shì hù 。 qiú zhǔ tòng jī qún jiān 。 zhē qí bì bǎng 。 qióng jiū yāo niè 。 jiàng yǐ lún sāng 。 wéi wǒ tiān zhǔ 。 yǒng gǔ wéi wáng 。 yǔ zhǔ wéi dí 。 mí yǒu bù wáng 。 zhǔ yǐ chuí tīng 。 qiān zhě zhī yīn 。 bì cì wèi jiè 。 jiān gù qí xīn 。 shēn bǐ yuān qū 。 bǎo bǐ qióng dú 。 mò líng fán rén 。 shàn zuò wēi fú 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 21 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 21 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter and the rhyme scheme is -ong (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

勝利謝恩

仰賴主大德。吾王喜氣冲。荷恩樂無極。陶然醉春風。 心願悉已償。所求靡不從。 先意介景福。寵遇一何隆。更以純金冕。殷勤加其首。 王求保其命。主錫無量壽。 英名仗神助。光榮仰天佑。沐浴芳澤中。美德萃其躬。 優游恩光下。天樂湧其衷。 王惟主是怙。慈惠貫始終。 行見我聖主。奮臂逐群凶。 群凶懾主威。若處紅爐中。天威震霹靂。燒盡妖魔蹤。 斬草在除根。一掃謬種空。 若輩懷叵測。對主施頑攻。奸圖焉能逞。分散如飄蓬。 主必對眾逆。從容挽神弓。 赫赫天地宰。稜威萬古同。吾人當引吭。高歌造化功。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with the rhyme scheme highlighted:

shèng lì xiè ēn

yǎng lài zhǔ dà dé 。 wú wáng xǐ qì chōng 。 hé ēn lè wú jí 。 táo rán zuì chūn fēng 。 xīn yuàn xī yǐ cháng 。 suǒ qiú mí bù cóng 。 xiān yì jiè jǐng fú 。 chǒng yù yī hé lóng 。 gēng yǐ chún jīn miǎn 。 yīn qín jiā qí shǒu 。 wáng qiú bǎo qí mìng 。 zhǔ xī wú liáng shòu 。 yīng míng zhàng shén zhù 。 guāng róng yǎng tiān yòu 。 mù yù fāng zé zhōng 。 měi dé cuì qí gōng 。 yōu yóu ēn guāng xià 。 tiān lè yǒng qí zhōng 。 wáng wéi zhǔ shì hù 。 cí huì guàn shǐ zhōng 。 xíng jiàn wǒ shèng zhǔ 。 fèn bì zhú qún xiōng 。 qún xiōng shè zhǔ wēi 。 ruò chǔ hóng lú zhōng 。 tiān wēi zhèn pī lì 。 shāo jìn yāo mó zōng 。 zhǎn cǎo zài chú gēn 。 yī sǎo miù zhǒng kōng 。 ruò bèi huái pǒ cè 。 duì zhǔ shī wán gōng 。 jiān tú yān néng chěng 。 fēn sàn rú piāo péng 。 zhǔ bì duì zhòng nì 。 cóng róng wǎn shén gōng 。 hè hè tiān dì zǎi 。 léng wēi wàn gǔ tóng 。 wú rén dāng yǐn háng 。 gāo gē zào huà gōng

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 11 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 11 from the 1946 edition is in the classical questions-and-answer scheme that is used by many Confucian and Taoist classics (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

答客難

友人勸我學飛鳥。飛入深山避災殃。 君不見群小彎弓箭在絃。欲於暗中射賢良。 國家根基已崩潰。賢人焉能獨支撐。 我答友人言。此語何荒唐。一生恃主得無恙。何必入山去自藏。  雅瑋坐天廷。雙目炯炯察世人。 賢良蒙鍛鍊。所以玉其成。惟彼兇與暴。乃為主所憎。 為惡嬰天羅。雷霆作杯羹。 為善邀天眷。常得承歡欣。

Transcription into Roman alphabet:

dá kè nán

yǒu rén quàn wǒ xué fēi niǎo 。 fēi rù shēn shān bì zāi yāng 。 jūn bù jiàn qún xiǎo wān gōng jiàn zài xián 。 yù yú àn zhōng shè xián liáng 。 guó jiā gēn jī yǐ bēng kuì 。 xián rén yān néng dú zhī chēng 。 wǒ dá yǒu rén yán 。 cǐ yǔ hé huāng táng 。 yī shēng shì zhǔ dé wú yàng 。 hé bì rù shān qù zì cáng 。  yǎ wěi zuò tiān tíng 。 shuāng mù jiǒng jiǒng chá shì rén 。 xián liáng mēng duàn liàn 。 suǒ yǐ yù qí chéng 。 wéi bǐ xiōng yǔ bào 。 nǎi wéi zhǔ suǒ zēng 。 wéi è yīng tiān luó 。 léi tíng zuò bēi gēng 。 wéi shàn yāo tiān juàn 。 cháng dé chéng huān xīn 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 22 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 22 from the 1946 edition is in the so-called Sao style (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either and underlined proper names):

受天下之垢

主兮主兮。胡為棄我如遺。發呻吟於危急兮。何惠音之遲遲。 朝籲主而不應兮。暮惆悵而無依。 夫主固吾族之所口碑兮。精靈夙彪炳乎歌詩。 稽先人之遐迹兮。孰不托聖澤而優游。 但聞籲主而見拯兮。焉有倚主而蒙羞。 謇予乃蚯蚓而非人兮。為萬民所唾棄而受天下之垢。 覩予者皆大施其嘲嗤兮。相與反其唇而搖其首。 曰彼既托命於天主兮。應蒙天主之援手。苟為天主之所寵兮。當見天主之營救。
信夫吾平生之所仰望兮。惟在天主之躬。主既出予於母胎兮。又教予仰聖恩於慈母之懷中。 溯自予之有生兮。向承吾主之恩撫。即予之尚在胎中兮。主亦未始非予之所怙。 今大難已臨而援手無人兮。吾主寧能捐棄而不顧。
健牡紛紛兮。圍我周匝。來自巴珊兮。洶洶相逼。 猛如餓獅兮。張口欲食。 體渙解兮骨脫。心消融兮如蠟。 喉焦如礫兮舌貼齶。身被委棄兮轉溝壑。 惡犬環縈兮。群小蜂聚。 手與足兮洞穿。骨嶙峋兮可數。眾人旁觀兮。舉瞪目而視予。 分我外衣兮。鬮我內服。 求主毋我遐棄兮。祈恩佑之神速。 保吾魂於刀劍兮。脫吾命於狂畜。 出我於獅口兮。拯我於兕角。 會當宣聖名於諸弟兮。誦大德於會中。 願凡虔敬之人兮。播揚仁風。願雅谷之苗裔兮。聖道是弘。願義塞之子孫兮。惟主是崇。 惟天主之慈憫兮。樂拯厄而濟窮。信乎其有求而必應兮。何曾掩其天容。 吾欲申讚歎於廣眾之中兮。還夙願於諸聖之前。上以報罔極之恩。下以踐平生之言。 必使謙謙君子。飲和飽德。懷主之徒。絃歌不絕。心靈日健。永生不滅。 行見普天率土兮。幡然憬悟而來歸。列國萬民兮。翕然致眷戀於庭闈。 蓋主乃天地之宰兮。又為萬國之君。 世之豐席厚履者固當飲水而思源兮。困苦瀕死者亦應俯伏而投誠。勗哉吾魂。為主而生。 來胤後嗣。事主惟勤。世代緜緜。恭聆福音。 父以傳子。子以傳孫。念念毋忘。主之經綸。

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

shòu tiān xià zhī gòu

zhǔ xī zhǔ 。 hú wéi qì wǒ rú yí 。 fā shēn yín yú wēi jí 。 hé huì yīn zhī chí chí 。 zhāo xū zhǔ ér bù yīng 。 mù chóu chàng ér wú yī 。 fū zhǔ gù wú zú zhī suǒ kǒu bēi 。 jīng líng sù biāo bǐng hū gē shī 。 jī xiān rén zhī xiá jì 。 shú bù tuō shèng zé ér yōu yóu 。 dàn wén xū zhǔ ér jiàn zhěng 。 yān yǒu yǐ zhǔ ér mēng xiū 。 jiǎn yú nǎi qiū yǐn ér fēi rén 。 wéi wàn mín suǒ tuò qì ér shòu tiān xià zhī gòu 。 yì yú zhě jiē dà shī qí cháo chī 。 xiāng yǔ fǎn qí chún ér yáo qí shǒu 。 yuē bǐ jì tuō mìng yú tiān zhǔ 。 yīng mēng tiān zhǔ zhī yuán shǒu 。 gǒu wéi tiān zhǔ zhī suǒ chǒng 。 dāng jiàn tiān zhǔ zhī yíng jiù 。
xìn fū wú píng shēng zhī suǒ yǎng wàng 。 wéi zài tiān zhǔ zhī gōng 。 zhǔ jì chū yú yú mǔ tāi 。 yòu jiào yú yǎng shèng ēn yú cí mǔ zhī huái zhōng 。 sù zì yú zhī yǒu shēng 。 xiàng chéng wú zhǔ zhī ēn fǔ 。 jí yú zhī shàng zài tāi zhōng 。 zhǔ yì wèi shǐ fēi yú zhī suǒ hù 。 jīn dà nán yǐ lín ér yuán shǒu wú rén 。 wú zhǔ níng néng juān qì ér bù gù 。
jiàn mǔ fēn fēn 。 wéi wǒ zhōu zā 。 lái zì bā shān 。 xiōng xiōng xiāng bī 。 měng rú è shī 。 zhāng kǒu yù shí 。 tǐ huàn jiě gǔ tuō 。 xīn xiāo róng rú là 。 hóu jiāo rú lì shé tiē è 。 shēn bèi wěi qì zhuǎn gōu hè 。 è quǎn huán yíng 。 qún xiǎo fēng jù 。 shǒu yǔ zú dòng chuān 。 gǔ lín xún kě shù 。 zhòng rén páng guān 。 jǔ dèng mù ér shì yú 。 fēn wǒ wài yī 。 jiū wǒ nèi fú 。 qiú zhǔ wú wǒ xiá qì 。 qí ēn yòu zhī shén sù 。 bǎo wú hún yú dāo jiàn 。 tuō wú mìng yú kuáng xù 。 chū wǒ yú shī kǒu 。 zhěng wǒ yú sì jiǎo 。 huì dāng xuān shèng míng yú zhū dì 。 sòng dà dé yú huì zhōng 。 yuàn fán qián jìng zhī rén 。 bō yáng rén fēng 。 yuàn yǎ gǔ zhī miáo yì 。 shèng dào shì hóng 。 yuàn yì sāi zhī zǐ sūn 。 wéi zhǔ shì chóng 。 wéi tiān zhǔ zhī cí mǐn 。 lè zhěng è ér jì qióng 。 xìn hū qí yǒu qiú ér bì yīng 。 hé zēng yǎn qí tiān róng 。 wú yù shēn zàn tàn yú guǎng zhòng zhī zhōng 。 huán sù yuàn yú zhū shèng zhī qián 。 shàng yǐ bào wǎng jí zhī ēn 。 xià yǐ jiàn píng shēng zhī yán 。 bì shǐ qiān qiān jūn zǐ 。 yǐn hé bǎo dé 。 huái zhǔ zhī tú 。 xián gē bù jué 。 xīn líng rì jiàn 。 yǒng shēng bù miè 。 xíng jiàn pǔ tiān shuài tǔ 。 fān rán jǐng wù ér lái guī 。 liè guó wàn mín 。 xī rán zhì juàn liàn yú tíng wéi 。 gài zhǔ nǎi tiān dì zhī zǎi 。 yòu wéi wàn guó zhī jūn 。 shì zhī fēng xí hòu hòu lǚ zhě gù dāng yǐn shuǐ ér sī yuán 。 kùn kǔ bīn sǐ zhě yì yīng fǔ fú ér tóu chéng 。 xù zāi wú hún 。 wéi zhǔ ér shēng 。 lái yìn hòu sì 。 shì zhǔ wéi qín 。 shì dài mián mián 。 gōng líng fú yīn 。 fù yǐ chuán zǐ 。 zǐ yǐ chuán sūn 。 niàn niàn wú wàng 。 zhǔ zhī jīng lún 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 1 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 1 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter with rhyme schemes based on -i and -ie (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

君子與小人

長樂惟君子。為善百祥集。莫偕無道行。恥與群小立。 避彼輕慢徒。不屑與同席。優游聖道中。涵泳徹朝夕。 譬如溪畔樹。及時結嘉實。歲寒葉不枯。條鬯靡有極。
惡人徒狡黠。飄飄如穅屑。悠悠逐風轉。何處是歸結。 惡貫既滿盈。天人共棄絕。 我主識善人。無道終滅裂。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with rhymes highlighted:

jūn zǐ yǔ xiǎo rén

cháng lè wéi jūn zǐ 。 wéi shàn bǎi xiáng 。 mò xié wú dào xíng 。 chǐ yǔ qún xiǎo 。 bì bǐ qīng màn tú 。 bù xiè yǔ tóng 。 yōu yóu shèng dào zhōng 。 hán yǒng chè zhāo 。 pì rú xī pàn shù 。 jí shí jié jiā shí 。 suì hán yè bù kū 。 tiáo chàng mí yǒu
è rén tú jiǎo xiá 。 piāo piāo rú kāng xiè 。 yōu yōu zhú fēng zhuǎn 。 hé chǔ shì guī jié 。 è guàn jì mǎn yíng 。 tiān rén gòng qì jué 。 wǒ zhǔ shí shàn rén 。 wú dào zhōng miè liè

With thanks to Simon Wong.