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.

Psalm 12 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 12 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

世風歎

仁義成絕響。忠信已泯沒。 交友無誠意。口蜜心詭譎。 求主矯浮薄。復使反樸拙。懲罰巧言者。剪截誇誕舌。 此輩炫利口。自謂世無敵。脣舌我自主。誰得相干涉。
雅瑋聞此語。焉能長默默。已見弱者苦。已聞貧人泣。我今將興起。一慰長太息。務使貧與弱。各得其所適。 至誠惟天主。聖道何純質。白銀經七煉。未能方其潔。 主必濟窮民。莫隨斯世溺。 惡逆如橫行。賢良無寧日。

Transcription into Roman alphabet:

shì fēng tàn

rén yì chéng jué xiǎng 。 zhōng xìn yǐ mǐn méi 。 jiāo yǒu wú chéng yì 。 kǒu mì xīn guǐ jué 。 qiú zhǔ jiǎo fú báo 。 fù shǐ fǎn pǔ zhuō 。 chěng fá qiǎo yán zhě 。 jiǎn jié kuā dàn shé 。 cǐ bèi xuàn lì kǒu 。 zì wèi shì wú dí 。 chún shé wǒ zì zhǔ 。 shuí dé xiāng gān shè 。
yǎ wěi wén cǐ yǔ 。 yān néng cháng mò mò 。 yǐ jiàn ruò zhě kǔ 。 yǐ wén pín rén qì 。 wǒ jīn jiāng xīng qǐ 。 yī wèi cháng tài xī 。 wù shǐ pín yǔ ruò 。 gè dé qí suǒ shì 。 zhì chéng wéi tiān zhǔ 。 shèng dào hé chún zhì 。 bái yín jīng qī liàn 。 wèi néng fāng qí jié 。 zhǔ bì jì qióng mín 。 mò suí sī shì nì 。 è nì rú héng xíng 。 xián liáng wú níng rì 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 23 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 23 from the 1946 edition is in pentameter and the rhyme scheme is -ou (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

良牧

主乃我之牧。所需百無憂。 令我草上憩。引我澤畔游。 吾魂得復蘇。仁育一何周。更為聖名故。率我正道由。 雖經陰谷裏。主在我何愁。爾策與爾杖。實令我心休。 讌我群敵前。感爾恩施優。靈膏沐我首。玉爵盈欲流。 慈惠共聖澤。長與我為儔。行藏勿離主。此外更何求。
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 highlighted:

liáng mù

zhǔ nǎi wǒ zhī mù 。 suǒ xū bǎi wú yōu 。 líng wǒ cǎo shàng qì 。 yǐn wǒ zé pàn yóu 。 wú hún dé fù sū 。 rén yù yī hé zhōu 。 gēng wéi shèng míng gù 。 shuài wǒ zhèng dào yóu 。 suī jīng yīn gǔ lǐ 。 zhǔ zài wǒ hé chóu 。 ěr cè yǔ ěr zhàng 。 shí líng wǒ xīn xiū 。 mā wǒ qún dí qián 。 gǎn ěr ēn shī yōu 。 líng gāo mù wǒ shǒu 。 yù jué yíng yù liú 。 cí huì gòng shèng zé 。 cháng yǔ wǒ wéi chóu 。 xíng cáng wù lí zhǔ 。 cǐ wài gēng hé qiú

This translation of Psalm 23 has also been set to music by individual artists (see Hu Mingzhe’s 胡明哲 version ) and is used in Catholic hymnals .

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 2 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 2 from the 1946 edition in the so-called Sao style (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either and underlined proper names):

順與逆

何列邦之擾攘兮。何萬民之猖狂。 世酋蠭起兮。跋扈飛揚。共圖背叛天主兮。反抗受命之王。 曰吾儕豈長甘羈絆兮。盍解其縛而脫其繮。
在天者必大笑兮。笑蜉蝣之不知自量。 終必勃然而怒兮。以懲當車之螳螂。 主曰吾已立君於西溫聖山之上兮。 君曰吾將宣聖旨於萬方。主曾告予兮。爾為予新得之元良。 予必應爾所求兮。如聲斯響。普天率土兮。莫非吾兒之宇疆。 爾當執鐵杖以粉碎群逆兮。有如瓦缶與壺觴。
嗚呼世之侯王兮。盍不及早省悟。鳴呼世之法吏兮。盍不自守法度。 小心翼翼以事主兮。寓歡樂於敬懼。 心悅誠服以順命兮。免天帝之震怒。何苦自取滅亡兮。自絕於康莊之大路。須知惟有委順兮。能邀無窮之福祚。

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

shùn yǔ nì

hé liè bāng zhī rǎo rǎng 。 hé wàn mín zhī chāng kuáng 。 shì qiú fēng qǐ 。 bá hù fēi yáng 。 gòng tú bèi pàn tiān zhǔ 。 fǎn kàng shòu mìng zhī wáng 。 yuē wú chái qǐ cháng gān jī bàn 。 hé jiě qí fù ér tuō qí jiāng 。
zài tiān zhě bì dà xiào 。 xiào fú yóu zhī bù zhī zì liáng 。 zhōng bì bó rán ér nù 。 yǐ chěng dāng chē zhī táng láng 。 zhǔ yuē wú yǐ lì jūn yú xī wēn shèng shān zhī shàng 。 jūn yuē wú jiāng xuān shèng zhǐ yú wàn fāng 。 zhǔ zēng gào yú 。 ěr wéi yú n dé zhī yuán liáng 。 yú bì yīng ěr suǒ qiú 。 rú shēng sī xiǎng 。 pǔ tiān shuài tǔ 。 mò fēi wú ér zhī yǔ jiāng 。 ěr dāng zhí tiě zhàng yǐ fěn suì qún nì 。 yǒu rú wǎ fǒu yǔ hú shāng 。
wū hū shì zhī hóu wáng 。 hé bù jí zǎo shěng wù 。 míng hū shì zhī fǎ lì 。 hé bù zì shǒu fǎ dù 。 xiǎo n yì yì yǐ shì zhǔ 。 yù huān lè yú jìng jù 。 xīn yuè chéng fú yǐ shùn mìng 。 miǎn tiān dì zhī zhèn nù 。 hé kǔ zì qǔ miè wáng 。 zì jué yú kāng zhuāng zhī dà lù 。 xū zhī wéi yǒu wěi shùn 。 néng yāo wú qióng zhī fú zuò 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.

Psalm 13 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 13 from the 1946 edition is in the so-called Sao style (the 1946 edition did not have verse numbers either):

夜如何其

吁嗟天主兮。盍其有極。棄我如遺兮。慈顏恆匿。 不見吾主兮。中心悒悒。黯然銷魂兮。將至何日。敵人高壓兮。何時得息。 主其垂青兮。應我之求。賜光明於吾目兮。庶免昏睡而長休。 豈可使彼敵人兮。幸吾災而樂吾憂。 我之恃主兮。始末不渝。終必蒙救兮。賜以歡愉。我當謳歌兮。詠主德之特殊。

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

yè rú hé qí

xū jiē tiān zhǔ 。 hé qí yǒu jí 。 qì wǒ rú yí 。 cí yán héng nì 。 bù jiàn wú zhǔ 。 zhōng xīn yì yì 。 àn rán xiāo hún 。 jiāng zhì hé rì 。 dí rén gāo yā 。 hé shí dé 。 zhǔ qí chuí qīng 。 yīng wǒ zhī qiú 。 cì guāng míng yú wú mù 。 shù miǎn hūn shuì ér cháng xiū 。 qǐ kě shǐ bǐ dí rén 。 xìng wú zāi ér lè wú yōu 。 wǒ zhī shì zhǔ 。 shǐ mò bù yú 。 zhōng bì mēng jiù 。 cì yǐ huān yú 。 wǒ dāng ōu gē 。 yǒng zhǔ dé zhī tè shū 。

With thanks to Simon Wong.