What Are the Poems About Bamboo? A Newly Compiled Overview

There are many varieties of bamboo, a perennial plant of the genus Bamboo in the subfamily Bambusoideae of the grass family. Its stalks are upright and slender, green in all four seasons, and it stands proudly through frost and rain. It is greatly loved by the Chinese people, and along with plum, orchid and chrysanthemum it is known as one of the Four Gentlemen; along with plum and pine it is also known as one of the Three Friends of Winter. Through the ages, countless men of letters and artists have loved bamboo and written poems about it. Let us take a look together below at what poems about bamboo there are!

"Bamboo and Stone"

Qing dynasty · Zheng Xie

Gripping the green mountain, it will not let go; its roots are set firm in broken rock.

Through a thousand grindings and ten thousand blows it stays strong and firm, letting you blow from east, west, south or north.

"Bamboo"

Song dynasty · Su Dongpo

I would rather eat without meat than live without bamboo.

Without meat one grows thin; without bamboo one grows vulgar.

"Ode to Bamboo"

Contemporary · Fu Pangru

It breaks through the soil and reaches the clouds, rising joint by joint; driving off the cold, it leads the way through the depths of winter.

It does not shed the sentimental tears of mottled bamboo, but gladly turns into waves of snow for the spring mountains.

"Ode to Bamboo"

A seven-character regulated verse · Anonymous

By the thatched hut, the small bridge and the flowing stream, it settles and lives contentedly. The wind bends its body crooked but its roots stay straight; the snow presses its waist and branches, yet its will grows firmer.

Though it bears great fame, it always keeps its integrity; with a hollow, humble heart it secretly gathers mist. It fears neither cold frost nor summer heat, and is lovely through spring, summer, autumn and winter.

"Courtyard Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Li Zhong

By chance, from a mountain monk's courtyard, it was moved and planted beside the steps. A fine breeze rises all day long, and quiet birds come from time to time.

Sifting the moon, it stirs poetic inspiration; wrapped in mist, it accompanies the wine cup. Waking lightly at the south window, I hear the rustling sound of wind and rain.

"Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Zheng Gu

It suits mist, suits rain and suits wind; brushing the water, hiding at times, and mingling with pines. Moved here, it rustles from the distant temple; washed clean, it reveals the peak before it.

Stepping past the moss, spring shoots burst forth; around the path, the small sedge grows thick in the summer sun. The frivolous apricot blossoms are full of sentiment, and several branches pierce the green, blending in beautifully.

"Ode to Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Du Fu

The green bamboo is half wrapped in sheaths, its new tips just emerging beyond the wall. Its color steals into the book scrolls at dusk, and hidden it passes, cooling the wine jug.

Washed by rain it is lovely and clean; blown by wind it gives off a delicate fragrance. If only it is not cut down, we shall see it grow to brush the clouds.

"Bamboo and Stone"

Qing dynasty · Zheng Banqiao

Gripping the green mountain, it will not let go; its roots are set firm in broken rock.

Through a thousand grindings and ten thousand blows it stays strong and firm, letting you blow from east, west, south or north.

"Hedge Bamboo"

Qing dynasty · Zheng Banqiao

A stretch of green shade as if washed clean, why trouble the thorny bushes to guard the bamboo?

Still, use bamboo as a fence; asking others is not as good as asking yourself.

"Bamboo"

Qing dynasty · Zheng Banqiao

The whole world loves to plant flowers; this old man plants only bamboo. Frost and snow fill the courtyard, yet it brightly reflects fresh green.

In the deep bamboo grove one night of snow, its sparse shadows lose their blue-green. Do not let it be scattered by the wind, that delicate shattered jade in the void.

"Ode to Bamboo"

Ming dynasty · Li Rihua

Teasing the mist and heaping the rain, its mood is bleak and deep; stroking the steep rocks is enough to loosen one's robe.

I recall leaving the wine gourd deep in the thick grass; drunk and then sober, when the moon comes out I come seeking again.

"Visiting Tao Gong's Old Residence"

Tang dynasty · Bai Juyi

Dirt and dust do not soil the jade; the sacred phoenix does not peck at rank meat. Alas, Tao Jingjie, born between the Jin and Song dynasties.

His heart truly had something it held to, yet his mouth in the end could not speak it. Forever I think of the lone bamboo gentleman, who shook out his robes at Mount Shouyang.

Yi and Qi each had but themselves; to be poor and hungry was no hardship for them. The gentleman had five sons, who shared his hunger and cold.

His belly was not filled with food, the clothes on his body were not whole. Repeated summonses he never answered; this can truly be called a worthy man.

I was born after you, five hundred years apart. Whenever I read the "Biography of the Five Willows," my eyes imagine and my heart is earnest.

In the past I often sang of his lingering ways, and wrote them into sixteen pieces. Now I come to visit his old residence, and it is as solemn as if you were before me.

I do not envy him a cup with wine, nor envy him a stringless lute. I envy you for leaving behind fame and profit, dying of old age in this hill garden.

The ancient village of Chaisang, the old hills and streams of Lili. I do not see the chrysanthemums beneath the hedge, only the smoke left among the ruins.

Though his descendants are unheard of, his clan has still not moved away. Whenever I meet someone surnamed Tao, my heart is moved just the same.

"Immortals by the River"

Song dynasty · Lu Shengji

Suddenly I recall going up to Pei Gong's terrace, where the distant autumn air was sharp and cold. Ten thousand mountains and one stream, lovely and bright. At this time, a traveler of the three Chu regions, why should he mean to continue the Songs of Chu?

Loving bamboo, still leaning on a staff and walking; able to write poetry, pleased to climb together with a companion. Endless exchanges of verse, the feelings of past and present never exhausted. A clear breeze stirs the white dust, and the slanting moon shines on sparse stars.

"Bamboo and Stone Scroll"

Qing dynasty · Li Fangying

When a person meets with a common ailment it is hard to shake off; for Qi Bo's good prescription, bamboo is most suitable.

The ink method has not yet dried when I set down the brush; the clear breeze has already cleansed the mud from lungs and bowels.

"Ode to Bamboo"

Qing dynasty · Ji Qiong

When the wind comes it laughs aloud; after the rain it is clean as if washed.

Sometimes the bright moon comes, playing with its shadow in the high window.

"Bamboo Grove Cottage"

Tang dynasty · Wang Wei

Sitting alone in the deep bamboo grove, I play the lute and whistle long.

Deep in the forest no one knows, and the bright moon comes to shine on me.

"Inscribed on Scholar Liu's New Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Du Fu

Several paths of quiet jade color, at dawn and dusk the green mist divides. Its sound breaks the dream by the cold window, its roots pierce the green mossy patterns.

Gradually it screens the sun at the railing, wanting to block the clouds entering the curtain. Not being a guest of Shanyin, who else would love this gentleman?

"Cutting Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Du Fu

The temple is ruined and the bamboo's color has died; would an official's family keep you?

The frosted roots gradually follow the axe, while the wind-jade still knocks in autumn.

A bitter chanting traveler of Jiangnan, where do I send my endless longing?

"New Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Liu Jian

Two or three clumps lie by the window and beside the steps; quietly adding seclusion has its own merit. Its shadow threads shattered gold as the sun first pierces through, its sound knocks cold jade as the wind suddenly stirs.

By heaven it borrows the old man's misty blue waves; do not believe the red tear-stains of the Xiang consorts. It is of course Ziyou who especially loves bamboo, its humble heart and high integrity amid snow and frost.

"New Bamboo at East Lake"

Song dynasty · Lu You

Thorns are planted to sweep the hedge and guard it carefully, nurtured into cold blue-green reflecting the rippling waves. A clear breeze sweeps the ground, autumn arrives first; the red sun crosses the sky, and at noon one does not notice.

When the sheaths split one first hears a rustling sound; as the tips unfurl one first sees leaves thick and lush. Officials at leisure, I want to come here often; pillow and mat, let them follow me everywhere.

"Two Quatrains Written in Jest at Yunxi Temple Watching Bamboo"

Song dynasty · Lu You

Its spirit covers ice and frost with strength to spare; by the river I see this gaunt immortal among the ranks. Its clear cold penetrates straight to one's flesh and bones; can a single speck of dust find lodging here?

The stream's light and the bamboo's sound suit each other well; walking to the stream bridge, the bamboo is even more wondrous. About this, do not say that without meat one grows thin; shutting the door, one can bear ten years of hunger.

"Eating Bamboo Shoots for the First Time, Presented to Those Present"

Tang dynasty · Li Shangyin

Tender sheaths and fragrant buds first emerge from the grove; at Wuling their price is weighed as heavy as gold.

In the imperial capital and across land and sea there must be countless; how can one bear to cut this inch of cloud-reaching heart?

"Song of Xiang Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Li Shangyin

For ten thousand ages, the bamboo of the Xiang River. Endless, what can be done about its grief?

Year after year it grows spring shoots. Only its tear-stains are many!

"Replying to Someone Watching Bamboo After Rain"

Tang dynasty · Xue Tao

In spring, in the spring rain, who can discern its snow-and-frost bearing? All other kinds are also said to flourish, yet with a humble heart it would rather hold itself.

It often keeps the sages of Jin drunk, and early accompanies the grief of the Shun consorts. In your later years, if you can appreciate it, its dark, strong joints are wondrous.

"Bamboo by the Pavilion"

Tang dynasty · Xue Tao

Lush, newly planted in four or five rows, it always bears its strong joints through the autumn frost.

Because spring shoots drill through the wall, it cannot spread its shade over the jade hall.

"Planting Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Du Fu

It was originally planted to block the sun, and seems to have been moved for the stream. Distinct are its forest-like shadows, sparse its mist-and-dew bearing.

Rustling on cold rainy nights, knocking like a drum in the evening wind. When will I reach my old homeland, and hang a dusty cap on a branch?

"Ink Bamboo Scroll"

Ming dynasty · Xia Chang

I hear that in early summer all gather in joy; I paint and gift this jade ring for you to gaze at with care.

If only a humble heart could share a late integrity; year after year on this day may it report peace.

"Inscribed on the Orchid and Bamboo Scroll"

Ming dynasty · Wen Peng

At the west window for half a day the rain pours on and on; after the rain new tips emerge beyond the low wall.

No dust flies and human tracks are cut off; the blue-green shade adds coolness to the evening window.

"Peach Blossom Spring Poem"

Eastern Jin · Tao Yuanming

They call to one another and work the fields freely. At sunset they go to their rest.

Mulberry and bamboo trail their lingering shade. Beans and millet are planted according to the season.