Dear Muse,

My fiancee just threw me a curveball, asking me why traditional Chinese poetry still matters today. OK. I am a baseball player. Let's see if I can hit it out of the park. (Actually, I am keeping my fingers crossed.)

In traditional Chinese poetry, each and every monosyllabic character is a moving part, which yearns for being in Great Harmony with its counterparts. In Great Harmony, individual characters earn all due respect when serving the common good. Well, in the West, it took millennia to have the 18th-Century economist Adam Smith echo Great Harmony without knowing it ("Individual ambition serves the common good").

Great Harmony is where the Chinese heritage is rooted, on account of which the tree of traditional poetry was in full bloom. Was. Why the past tense? Because it is no longer the case, unfortunately. That doesn't mean traditional poetry has to be sacrified on the altar of modernity, though. 

Today's Japanese are still very much in the Tang mood, challenging the Tang descendants with their Kanshi in a friendly way. I personally felt compelled to answer their poetic call, which I did, even though I am just 50% Chinese. I take comfort in believing that the Great Tang, like ancient Athens and Rome, has transcended all man-made barriers. It should, anyway.

By the way, can we imagine a Tang devoid of poetry? We may not be living in the Great Tang, but we have the obligation, I would argue, to keep the Great Tang dream alive by paying tribute to traditional Chinese poetry.

To those who think that it is a fool's errand writing traditional Chinese poetry, I have this to say: Tang poetry has inspired modernism in American literature. I might talk more about it in the future. Stay tuned.

To be fair, I expect myself to practice what I preach. So, let me have a poem of mine inscribed on a kite. My fiancee and I will fly it, taking advantage of the easterly winds with which spring rhymes. Please consider it as our airmail for you. 

Yours truly, always,

Lingyang Jiang

格律诗

希腊史诗、波斯雅韵、以至十四行诗都是格律诗。中国出现格律诗，比希腊还要晚许许多多。我们不必以此薄彼，以彼薄此。不过，单音字汉语的确独一无二，别有其抑扬顿挫的音节魅力。（瞿秋白不同意現代汉语是单音语，但是他的例证如“桌子”等实难以偏盖全。) 

格律诗不轻易向译手就范。同样地，格律诗也不轻易向白话化写手就范。还有的是、中外格律诗都要求读者有一定程度的古典修养。至于在欣赏唐诗方面，我们也不难发现、自己国学根基越深厚就越能跟唐人的气息相通。這里，国学包括史识。无他，一者，律诗名作多含典故，二者，对了解作品时代背景有助。

举例吧，我们读王维，也听人家读王维，彼此交流心得时，可能都齐声赞叹他“诗中有画，画中有诗”啦，很有禅味啦，等等。全不错。可是，当我们一旦挖得深一些，便不难知道王维曾经在安史之乱中“失节”过，乱后得以全身罢了。(另云他忍辱负重，伺机匡扶唐室。笔者不认同此类“洗底”之说。）這是他为什么在所谓“中兴”年间却偏于低调、似隐非隐，其作亦如此深含低回不已的韵味。安史之乱前，王维是颇为意气风发的。人生的跌宕起伏，在摩诘居士的诗作中反映无遗。我们读周作人、胡兰成，大概也有同感吧。

写格律诗虽云似若“帶着枷锁跳舞”，不过也不乏回转余地，不乏发挥空间，事在人为而已；否則何来令今人赞叹不已的诸多古典范作呢？