Today is the Qingming Festival (Tomb-Sweeping Day)—it’s a celebration of spring and memory. During Qingming, families visit the tombs of their ancestors to clean the gravesites and make ritual offerings to their ancestors. Or just go out for a spring hiking in nature.
At the Orchid Pavilion at Shaoxing City
I’m not a big fan of classical Chinese literature—I know it’s deep and awesome but please that’s just not my thing. But gladly if you went through high school in China and passed the college school entrance examination with the 10 million students every year, you are able to recite well the Orchid Pavilion Preface (and a few other very famous classical Chinese literature pieces).
The Orchid Pavilion Preface by Wang-Xizhi, China Online Museum.
It is perhaps the most famous piece of calligraphy in Chinese history. 42 poets gathered at the Orchid Pavilion to drink and improvise. Wang-XiZhi was one of then as well as the author and calligrapher of the Lantingji Xu (Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion). The text is translated below:
On this late spring day, the ninth year of Yonghe (AD 353), we gathered at the Orchid Pavilion in Shaoxing to observe the Spring Purification Festival. All of the prominent people were there, from old to young. High mountains and luxuriant bamboo groves lie in the back; a limpid, swift stream gurgles around, which reflected the sunlight as it flowed past either side of the pavilion. We sat by the water, sharing wine from a floating goblet while chanting poems, which gave us delight in spite of the absence of musical accompaniment. This is a sunny day with a gentle valley breeze. Spreading before the eye is the beauty of nature, and hanging high is the immeasurable universe. This is perfect for an aspired mind. What a joy.
Though born with different personalities—some give vent to their sentiment in a quiet chat while others repose their aspiration in Bohemianism—people find pleasure in what they pursue and never feel tired of it. Sometimes they pause to recall the days lapsed away. Realizing that what fascinated yesterday is a mere memory today, not to mention that everyone will return to nothingness, an unsuppressible sorrow would well up. Isn’t it sad to think of it?
I am often moved by ancients’ sentimental lines which lamented the swiftness and uncertainty of life. When future generations look back to my time, it will probably be similar to how I now think of the past. What a shame! Therefore, when I list out the people that were here, and record their musings, even though times and circumstances will change, as for the things that we regret, they are the same. For the people who read this in future generations, perhaps you will likewise be moved by my words.