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- Author: L Cranmer-Byng
- Publisher: Buchanan Press
- ISBN-10: 1443717002
- ISBN-13: 9781443717007
- Format: 14 x 21.6 x 0.7 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English
- SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA
A Lute of Jade: Being Selections from the Classical Poets of China (e-book) (used book) | bookbook.eu
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Little under three hundred years, from A .D. 618 to 806, the period of the Tang dynasty, and the great age of Chinese poetry had come and gone. Far back in the twilight of history, at Ieast 1,700 years before Christ, the Chinese people sang their songs of kings and feudal princes good or bad, of husbandry, or now and then songs with the more persoilal note of simple joys and sorrows. All things in these Odes collected by Confucius belong to the surface of life they are the work of those who easily plough light farrows, knowing nothing of hidden gold. Only at rare momonts of exaltation or despair do we hear the lyrical cry rising above the monotone of dreamlike content. Even the magnificent outburst at the beginning of this book, in which the unhappy woman compares her heart to a dying moon, is prefaced by vague complaint Sly brothera, although they support me not.
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- Author: L Cranmer-Byng
- Publisher: Buchanan Press
- ISBN-10: 1443717002
- ISBN-13: 9781443717007
- Format: 14 x 21.6 x 0.7 cm, minkšti viršeliai
- Language: English English
Little under three hundred years, from A .D. 618 to 806, the period of the Tang dynasty, and the great age of Chinese poetry had come and gone. Far back in the twilight of history, at Ieast 1,700 years before Christ, the Chinese people sang their songs of kings and feudal princes good or bad, of husbandry, or now and then songs with the more persoilal note of simple joys and sorrows. All things in these Odes collected by Confucius belong to the surface of life they are the work of those who easily plough light farrows, knowing nothing of hidden gold. Only at rare momonts of exaltation or despair do we hear the lyrical cry rising above the monotone of dreamlike content. Even the magnificent outburst at the beginning of this book, in which the unhappy woman compares her heart to a dying moon, is prefaced by vague complaint Sly brothera, although they support me not.
Reviews