The Complete Latest Collection of Poems Praising Pine Trees
There are nearly eighty species of pine trees in the world, possessing masculine beauty, with branches and trunks that combine softness within strength, and leaves that give a sense of fresh elegance. They are regarded by the people of our country as a symbol of firmness, chastity, and longevity, and together with bamboo and plum blossom are known as the “Three Friends of Winter,” symbolizing the tenacious spirit of defying adversity and overcoming difficulties. Now let us take a look at some poems that praise pine trees!
"Seven-Character Quatrain. Inscribed on the Photo of the Immortal's Cave on Mount Lu Taken by Comrade Li Jin"
Modern · Mao Zedong
In the dim twilight I gaze upon the sturdy pine, while tumultuous clouds fly past, it remains calm.
Nature has made an immortal's cave, infinite scenery lies on the perilous peak.
"Ode to the Pine"
Qing Dynasty · Lu Huixin
The lean rock and cold plum are neighbors together, standing tall without changing through the four seasons of spring.
Know that its nature defies snow and frost, it is not of the company of the flourishing crowd.
"The Lonely Pine"
Tang Dynasty · Liu Zongyuan
The lonely pine rests its emerald canopy, its roots set beside the broad road.
It does not guard itself against danger, and thus is misled by brightness.
"Ode to the Pine"
Modern · Chen Yi
Heavy snow presses the green pine, the green pine stands tall and straight.
To know the pine's noble purity, wait until the snow melts.
"Inscribed on the Pine by the Stream in Front of the Yiai Temple"
Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
The tall pine tree leans and stretches, encroaching upon the small stone stream. Quietly it faces the flowing water, in height it rivals the distant peaks.
Its emerald canopy is dense with mist, its flowered banners pressed low by snow. With monks it sits in clear shadow, lending stability for cranes to perch on its branches.
Brush cannot capture its form, the lute steals its charm and easily bewitches. On summer days the wind rustles, on clear nights the dew falls chill.
Alone it suits to be a dwelling, idly walking around it forms a path. Do not harvest it for a pillar, leave it to accompany secluded dwelling.
"Poem on the Cold Pine"
Southern Dynasties · Fan Yun
Its long branches brush the layered sky. Its dense leaves screen the heavenly shore.
Facing the wind one knows its sturdy joints. Bearing snow reveals its chaste heart.
"The Small Pine"
Tang Dynasty · Du Xunhe
Since childhood it thrusts its head from deep grass, and now it gradually emerges above the weeds.
People of the time do not recognize the tree that will reach the clouds, only when it reaches the clouds do they call it tall.
"Imitating Yan Lugong's Poem Sending Ting Yun Back to Cuiwei Temple"
Tang Dynasty · Lu Lun
Ting Yun's generous learning encompasses Confucianism and Buddhism, in his sleeve are Yan and Xu's genuine cursive traces. Three invitations to one studio to record travel poems, he mocks me for trailing my whip and playing with whistling arrows.
The temple hangs its golden plaque on a half-mountain corner, the stone road is desolate and the pine trees withered. Tiger tracks printed in snow as big as pecks, in the intercalary month at dusk can one pass through?
"Ode to the Pine"
Song Dynasty · Wu Fu
The ancients always held the heart of benefiting others, planting pines along the road until today.
If today we could increase the planting, we would see a hundred generations of evergreen shade.
"The Pine at the Bottom of the Ravine"
Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
There is a pine a hundred feet tall and ten arm-spans around, growing at the bottom of the ravine, cold and lowly. The ravine is deep and the mountain steep, the path for people is cut off, until old age and death it never meets a craftsman to measure it.
The Son of Heaven's bright hall lacks beams, this seeks and that has, neither knows the other. Who can fathom the vast creator's intent, giving it timber but not the place.
The Jin and Zhang families held hereditary rank while Yuan Xian was virtuous, the ox-hide blanket is cold and humble while the sable cicada ornament is noble.
The sable cicada ornament and the ox-hide blanket, though high and low differ.
The high are not necessarily worthy, the low are not necessarily foolish.
Do you not see the coral growing deep on the ocean floor, and the white elm planted clearly in the heavens!
"Imitating Ji Zhongshan's Poem on the Pine"
Jin Dynasty · Xie Daoyun
Gazing from afar at the pine on the mountain, in deep winter it cannot wither. I wish to think of wandering below to rest, and look up at those ten-thousand-fathom branches.
Leaping up I cannot ascend, stamping my feet I await Wang Qiao. The times are not with me, carried by the great fate drifting.
"Poems of My Heart, Eighty-Two Poems, Number Thirteen"
Three Kingdoms · Ruan Ji
Climbing high I overlook the four wilds, gazing north at the green mountain slope. Pines and cypresses shade the ridge and peak, flying birds call as they pass.
Moved with emotion I harbor bitterness. Resentment and poison are always much. Lord Li grieved at the Eastern Gate, Su Zi was narrow at the Three Rivers.
Seeking benevolence one gains benevolence, why sigh and lament again.
"The Pine Tree"
Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
White silver was exchanged for the green pine tree, you planted it first and I did not.
Fortunately the west wind is easy to rely on, deep in the night it secretly sends good sounds.
"The Pine"
Tang Dynasty · Cheng Yanxiong
The great officer's fame and price are heard through the ages, coiled and solitary in chastity it stands out even more.
One would think it idle at the ridge top, yet the setting sun still hangs on several branches of cloud.
"Emotions Stirred by the Ancient Pine"
Tang Dynasty · Huangfu Song
By the power of heaven and earth, I am brought to this life. Noble and humble are not equal for me, what of heaven and earth's feeling.
My family's generations of virtue, its purpose to aid civilization. The family collection of four hundred volumes, stands alone as a classic of heaven and earth.
I send word to the green pine's bearing, how could it envy the crimson hibiscus's glory. Bright and clear is the great transformation's light, sharing this lingering fragrance.
"The Courtyard Pine"
Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
What is there below the hall? Ten pines stand at my steps. Scattered and standing without order, high and low are also uneven.
The tall ones are three zhang long, the low ones ten chi short. Like wild things, one does not know who planted them.
Joined with green tile roofs, supported by white sand terraces. Morning and evening there is wind and moon, dry and wet there is no dust or mud.
⟧Sparse rhythms rustle in autumn, cool shade is chill in summer. In late spring on a drizzly evening, the leaves are full of pearly drops.
At year's end in heavy snow, the branches are pressed with white jade. The four seasons each have their charm, ten thousand trees are not its peers.
Last year I bought this house, much to people's ridicule. A family of twenty mouths, moved here for the pine.
What is gained by moving here, only that the worried heart opens. This is truly a beneficial friend, why must one befriend only the worthy?
Looking at myself I am still a common scholar, cap and belt covered in dust. I am not worthy to be the pine's master, from time to time I feel ashamed.
"To My Cousin"
Three Kingdoms · Liu Zhen
Tall and upright is the pine on the mountain, sighing is the wind in the valley. How fierce the sound of the wind, how sturdy the pine branches.
Ice and frost are truly bitter, yet all year it remains upright. How could it not suffer the biting cold, pines and cypresses have their inherent nature.
"Poems of My Heart, Eighty-Two Poems, Number Fifty"
Three Kingdoms · Ruan Ji
Walking beside the three crossroads, sorrowfully thinking of what I long for. How could it be seen today, in a trance it truly exists.
In the marsh grows a tall pine, ten thousand generations cannot be expected. A high bird soars brushing the sky. Together with the clouds it plays.
How could there be a solitary traveler, shedding tears grieving the past.
"The Four Pines"
Tang Dynasty · Du Fu
When the four pines were first transplanted, they were roughly over three chi tall. Since parting suddenly three years have passed, standing apart they are now as tall as a person.
One can see their roots will not be pulled out, do not count the branches' withering and damage. Fortunately their secluded color flourishes, their sparse branches are also impressive.
The small fence I inserted, originally also had embankments. In the end they were damaged by being knocked, yet grudging a thousand leaves turning yellow.
Dare I be master of the old grove, the common people are still not well. Having fled the bandits I now first return, spring grass fills the empty hall.
Viewing things I sigh at decline, and here I am comforted in desolation. A clear breeze rises for me, sprinkling my face like light frost.
Enough to send off old age's bearing, for now I wait for the spreading canopy. My life has no root or tie, matching you is also vast and dim.
Having feeling I compose a poem, the affairs can both be forgotten. Do not boast of a thousand years hence, bleakly coiled in the vault of heaven.
"The Pine"
Tang Dynasty · Han Gai
Leaning against the empty high railing, cold and without dust, past events idly sought, dreams about to part. Its emerald color should be seen after frost, its cold sound is heard toward the moon.
Crying apes seem to carry the gray mountain's rain, returning cranes should echo the purple palace's clouds. Do not compete with peach and plum in the east garden, spring light still will not tolerate you.
"Two Poems on Planting Pines"
Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
The small pine is not yet a full chi, my heart loves it and I move it with my own hands. Dark is the color of the ravine's bottom, clouds wet and mist drifting.
I plant it in my late years, you grow slowly by nature. How is it that past forty, I plant these few-inch branches?
Will I see it form shade? In life, seventy is rare. I love you for holding your late integrity, I pity you for containing straight patterns.
Wanting to see you morning and evening, before the steps I deliberately planted you. Knowing you will only stop at death, if not dead you will reach the clouds.
"The Pine of the Southern Veranda"
Tang Dynasty · Li Bai
On the southern veranda there is a lonely pine, its branches and leaves naturally dense and close. The clear breeze has no idle time, free and easy all day and night.
In shade it grows ancient moss green, its color dyes the autumn mist blue. When will it reach the clouds, straight up several thousand chi.
"Poems of My Heart, Eighty-Two Poems, Number Sixty-Five"
Three Kingdoms · Ruan Ji
In the morning I go out the Upper East Gate, gazing afar at the Shouyang foundation. Pines and cypresses are dense and deep, orioles play together.
Wandering among the nine bends, hesitating where to go. Thinking of my ordinary days, gloomily I long for the enchantress.
"Song of Fufeng"
Jin Dynasty · Liu Kun
The southern mountain's stones are towering, how lush are the pines and cypresses. The upper branches brush the blue clouds, the center is ten-some arm-spans around.
Luoyang sends down its central beams, the pine tree secretly grieves. Axes and saws cut down this pine, the pine tree is destroyed east and west.
Specially made into a four-wheeled cart, carried to the Luoyang palace. Onlookers all sigh, asking what mountain's timber this is.
Who can carve this, Gongshu and Lu Ban. Clothed with red lacquer, fumigated with storax incense.
Originally from the southern mountain's pine, now it is a palace beam.
"Twenty Poems on Drinking Wine"
Jin Dynasty · Tao Yuanming
Restlessly a bird that has lost its flock, at dusk still flies alone. Hovering without a fixed resting place, night after night its cry turns sad.
Shrill it cries longing for the clear dawn, flying far with nowhere to rely. Because it meets a lonely growing pine, it folds its wings and comes from afar to return.
In the strong wind there are no flourishing trees, only this shade does not decline. Having found where to entrust itself, for a thousand years it will not part.
"Poems on History. Number Two"
Jin Dynasty · Zuo Si
Lush is the pine at the bottom of the ravine, scattered are the seedlings on the mountain. With that inch-wide stem, it shades this hundred-chi branch.
Hereditary nobles tread the high positions, the outstanding and handsome sink into low office. The terrain makes it so, it has not been for one morning.
The Jin and Zhang families relied on old estates, for seven generations wore Han sable. Was Lord Feng not great, yet white-haired he was never summoned.