"Welcome back, ducklings ♥," Shunsui started the class with his usual sleepy smile, carefully pouring cups of tea for his students and passing them over (clearly it had to be a nice Chinese Clouds and Mist this morning) once they got comfortable and it was time to begin, then pouring one for himself. "Last week, we discussed the origins of poetry and the epic poem, and I tasked you with composing one of your own ♥. Let's start class with what you've come up with, although no worries at all if you haven't ♥. Believe me, I understand that the muse is a truly fickle mistress who will come and go as she pleases, which just makes it all the better when she finally does grace us with her presence ♥."

Something he rather wished his lieutenant would understand when it came to that novel of his, but anyway...

Once they were done with that, he moved onto the lesson of the day.



"And now," he said, "we move from the sweeping stories of epic poetry that puts the focus on a great hero and their exploits, to something that almost works to remove the human out of the picture, and that is the Chinese form of Shunshui poetry. Not to be confused," he added with a chuckle, as he lifted a small whiteboard and scribbled down the word with the Chinese characters (山水) as well as his name with its Japanese characters (春水), "with my name, Shunsui, although you can see," he circled the last character of both, finding this to be particularly amusing, "we do share at least something in common ♥.

"But no," he continued, chuckling a little to himself as he tucked the board away, "Shunshui, in this instance, translates into 'mountains and rivers' and it is a form of poetry that developed along side the artistic movement that began around the fifth century," with a nod of consession to the known artist in the class, "of painting very large and sweeping landscape,s usually focused on great mountains, which have sacred connotation to the Chinese and are often linked to philosophy, mysticism, and naturalism. The paintings were also done in a very stark style, utilizing very little color, with an ink and brush style rather than the traditional paints. And the poetry that followed was similarly stark; many of them were created with a particular shanshui painting in mind, to be viewed and considered together, although it was not entirely a requirement. The main point with shanshui poetry is its focus on the nature itself. While with our epic poems, you had a central figure of a hero, with shanshui, nature is the center, and it's very rare that a human figure will factor into it at all.

"A few examples ♥:

From Wang Wei, 'Lily Magnolia Tree Park:'

Autumn mountains restrain the remaining glow
Two flying birds, one pursuing the other.

Emerald green colors in the twilight radiance
Evening mountain mist, without a landmark in sight.

From Cao Cao, believed to be one of the founders of this particular movement, entitled 'View of the Blue Sea':

East of Jieshi mountain, I gaze at the blue sea.
The water dances so gently, the mountain island towers.
Trees here grow thick, a hundred grasses are lush.
The autumn wind soughs, great waves rise up.
The path of the sun and moon, seems to come from within.
The splendid Milky Way, seems to come from inside.
Oh, I am so lucky, to be singing my song!

"That one, clearly, still retains some human elements, while the first one had virtually none. This next one, 'Mooring at the River at Jiande,' I feel, combines a little of both:

"A rocking boat moored on a misty bank
The parting day brings new worries
In the distance the heavens droop behind the trees
The moon is a close friend on Blue River.

"Now, none of thse had much to do with the mountains I spoke of, but they do all paint quite a clear picture, neh ♥? We can almost imagine the stark shanshui painting that may have inspired or accompanied such pieces, so I'll leave you with two more that do involve mountains, one significantly more Shanshui that the other, both from Li Bai:

"Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt sitting in a green wood.
I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head.

The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains."



He let the final poem linger a little with a faint smile and a sip of his tea. "I would like," he then said, "for you to find a stirring landscape to inspire a poem for you next week ♥. As you can see by the examples, it does not need to be complex or long; in fact, the simplicity in inherent in the style ♥. In the meantime, though, let us discuss ♥. What did you think of the shanshui style? Do you know of any other examples? What do you suppose the purpose of poems like this may be? The floor," he ducked his head, tipping his hand, "is all yours, ducklings ♥."