Psalm 19 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 19 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter and the rhyme schemes are -ong, -ang, and -i and (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

乾坤與妙法

乾坤揭主榮。碧穹布化工。 朝朝宣宏旨。夜夜傳微衷。 默默無一語。教在不言中。 周行遍大地。妙音送長風。
晨曦發帝鄉。丰采似玉郎。洋洋溢喜氣。逍遙出洞房。 天行一何健。六合任翱翔。普照無私曲。萬物被其光。
妙法洵全美。我魂得歸依。靈證洵萬確。童蒙識玄機。 玉律豈有瑕。祇守心自怡。聖典何皎潔。悅目驚新奇。 天威分明在。萬古永不移。神斷剖黑白。陰隲定是非。 價值邁金石。滋味勝蜜飴。 小子知趨避。福祿盡在茲。 誰能悟其愆。惟主濯其疵。 但願遠罪戾。庶免染塵緇。或可無大過。心口莫睽違。 我是遊蕩子。願父贖我歸。永不離膝下。朝暮相追隨。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with the rhyme schemes highlighted:

qián kūn yǔ miào fǎ

qián kūn jiē zhǔ róng 。 bì qióng bù huà gōng 。 zhāo zhāo xuān hóng zhǐ 。 yè yè chuán wēi zhōng 。 mò mò wú yī yǔ 。 jiào zài bù yán zhōng 。 zhōu xíng biàn dà dì 。 miào yīn sòng cháng fēng
chén xī fā dì xiāng 。 fēng cǎi sì yù láng 。 yáng yáng yì xǐ qì 。 xiāo yáo chū dòng fáng 。 tiān xíng yī hé jiàn 。 liù hé rèn áo xiáng 。 pǔ zhào wú sī qū 。 wàn wù bèi qí guāng
miào fǎ xún quán měi 。 wǒ hún dé guī 。 líng zhèng xún wàn què 。 tóng mēng shí xuán 。 yù lǜ qǐ yǒu xiá 。 qí shǒu xīn zì 。 shèng diǎn hé jiǎo jié 。 yuè mù jīng xīn 。 tiān wēi fēn míng zài 。 wàn gǔ yǒng bù 。 shén duàn pōu hēi bái 。 yīn cí dìng shì fēi 。 jià zhí mài jīn shí 。 zī wèi shèng mì 。 xiǎo zǐ zhī qū 。 fú lù jìn zài zī 。 shuí néng wù qí qiān 。 wéi zhǔ zhuó qí cī 。 dàn yuàn yuǎn zuì lì 。 shù miǎn rǎn chén zī 。 huò kě wú dà guò 。 xīn kǒu mò kuí wéi 。 wǒ shì yóu dàng zǐ 。 yuàn fù shú wǒ guī 。 yǒng bù lí xī xià 。 zhāo mù xiāng zhuī suí 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 9 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 9 from the 1946 edition is in heptameter (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either and underlined proper names):

神與人

我欲一心頌雅瑋。縷述眞神一切妙。 歡忭鼓舞主懷中。心歌腹詠至尊號。 吾敵已潰退。紛紛仆主前。 公義已見伸。睿斷洵無愆。 主已懲萬邦。消滅諸悖逆。塗抹不肖名。終古歸沈寂。 敵國城邑已荒蕪。樓臺亭閣悉成墟。繁華事散逐輕塵。欲尋遺跡蕩無存。 恆存惟有天主國。雅瑋皇座永不移。 審判世界與萬民。聰明正直豈有私。 困苦無告蒙哀矜。主是窮民避難城。 又為聖徒之保障。何曾孤負有心人。 西溫居民當絃歌。暢向億兆宣神蹟。 無辜之血主常恤。冤屈之人必得直。
雅瑋憐我苦。拯吾出兇門。 我在西溫門前立。中心感主發頌聲。
敵人掘穽自陷身。敵人布網自絆足。 雅瑋靈隲實昭著。陰謀詭計徒自辱。 世上忘主眾不肖。終須相將沈幽冥。 窮人豈能長被遺。鮮民之望終有成。 寧容人類勝眞宰。願主興起鞫頑民。 務使世間傲慢子。自知僅屬血氣倫。

Transcription into Roman alphabet:

shén yǔ rén

wǒ yù yī xīn sòng yǎ wěi 。 Lǚ shù zhēn shén yī qiē miào 。 huān biàn gǔ wǔ zhǔ huái zhōng 。 xīn gē fù yǒng zhì zūn hào 。 wú dí yǐ kuì tuì 。 fēn fēn pū zhǔ qián 。 gōng yì yǐ jiàn shēn 。 ruì duàn xún wú qiān 。 zhǔ yǐ chěng wàn bāng 。 xiāo miè zhū bèi nì 。 tú mǒ bù xiāo míng 。 zhōng gǔ guī shěn jì 。 dí guó chéng yì yǐ huāng wú 。 lóu tái tíng gé xī chéng xū 。 fán huá shì sàn zhú qīng chén 。 yù xún yí jì dàng wú cún 。 héng cún wéi yǒu tiān zhǔ guó 。 yǎ wěi huáng zuò yǒng bù yí 。 shěn pàn shì jiè yǔ wàn mín 。 cōng míng zhèng zhí qǐ yǒu sī 。 kùn kǔ wú gào mēng āi jīn 。 zhǔ shì qióng mín bì nán chéng 。 yòu wéi shèng tú zhī bǎo zhàng 。 hé zēng gū fù yǒu xīn rén 。 xī wēn jū mín dāng xián gē 。 chàng xiàng yì zhào xuān shén lì 。 wú gū zhī xuè zhǔ cháng xù 。 yuān qū zhī rén bì dé zhí 。
yǎ wěi lián wǒ kǔ 。 zhěng wú chū xiōng mén 。 wǒ zài xī wēn mén qián lì 。 zhōng xīn gǎn zhǔ fā sòng shēng 。
dí rén jué jǐng zì xiàn shēn 。 dí rén bù wǎng zì bàn zú 。 yǎ wěi líng cí shí zhāo zhù 。 yīn móu guǐ jì tú zì rǔ 。 shì shàng wàng zhǔ zhòng bù xiāo 。 zhōng xū xiāng jiāng shěn yōu míng 。 qióng rén qǐ néng cháng bèi yí 。 xiān mín zhī wàng zhōng yǒu chéng 。 níng róng rén lèi shèng zhēn zǎi 。 yuàn zhǔ xīng qǐ jú wán mín 。 wù shǐ shì jiān ào màn zǐ 。 zì zhī jǐn shǔ xuè qì lún 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 20 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 pentameter and the rhyme scheme is -ong (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either and underlined proper names):

預祝勝利

惟願主雅瑋。眷爾患難中。惟願雅谷主。聖名保爾躬。 願主自聖殿。錫爾恩寵隆。願主自聖山。錫爾福履充。 念爾禋祀勤。悅爾燔祭豐。 心願悉獲償。謀為皆成功。 行見爾凱旋。萬民喜氣沖。會當樹長旌。共慶主名崇。 願主成爾志。使爾樂融融。固知受命王。酣暢主春風。主在諸天上。安然居九重。援爾以右手。帝力寧有窮。 徒誇車馬力。敵人何夢夢。吾人恃主名。不與彼人同。 彼皆仆在地。我立猶挺胸。 惟願主雅瑋。保王徹始終。聽我此日禱。鑒我區區衷。

Transcription into Roman alphabet with the rhyme scheme highlighted:

yù zhù shèng lì

wéi yuàn zhǔ yǎ wěi 。 juàn ěr huàn nán zhōng 。 wéi yuàn yǎ gǔ zhǔ 。 shèng míng bǎo ěr gōng 。 yuàn zhǔ zì shèng diàn 。 xī ěr ēn chǒng lóng 。 yuàn zhǔ zì shèng shān 。 xī ěr fú lǚ chōng 。 niàn ěr yīn sì qín 。 yuè ěr fán jì fēng 。 xīn yuàn xī huò cháng 。 móu wéi jiē chéng gōng 。 xíng jiàn ěr kǎi xuán 。 wàn mín xǐ qì chōng 。 huì dāng shù cháng jīng 。 gòng qìng zhǔ míng chóng 。 yuàn zhǔ chéng ěr zhì 。 shǐ ěr lè róng róng 。 gù zhī shòu mìng wáng 。 hān chàng zhǔ chūn fēng 。 zhǔ zài zhū tiān shàng 。 ān rán jū jiǔ zhòng 。 yuán ěr yǐ yòu shǒu 。 dì lì níng yǒu qióng 。 tú kuā chē mǎ lì 。 dí rén hé mèng mèng 。 wú rén shì zhǔ míng 。 bù yǔ bǐ rén tóng 。 bǐ jiē pū zài dì 。 wǒ lì yóu tǐng xiōng 。 wéi yuàn zhǔ yǎ wěi 。 bǎo wáng chè shǐ zhōng 。 tīng wǒ cǐ rì dǎo 。 jiàn wǒ qū qū zhōng

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.