What are the classic poems describing bamboo?

There are many varieties of bamboo, a perennial plant of the genus Bambusa in the subfamily Bambusoideae of the grass family. Its stems are tall and straight, slender, evergreen in all four seasons, and proud in frost and rain. It is greatly loved by Chinese people. Together with plum, orchid, and chrysanthemum, it is called the Four Gentlemen, and together with plum and pine, it is called the Three Friends of Winter. Through the ages, many men of letters and scholars have loved bamboo and praised it in verse. Let us now take a look at what poems about bamboo there are!

"Bamboo and Rock"

Qing dynasty · Zheng Xie

Biting firmly into the green mountain and never letting go, its roots are originally set in broken rock.

Through a thousand grindings and ten thousand blows it remains firm and strong, 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 becomes thin; without bamboo one becomes vulgar.

"Ode to Bamboo"

Contemporary · Fu Pangru

Breaking through the soil and reaching the clouds, growing higher joint by joint; driving off the cold of the third nine-day period, it leads in elegance.

It does not shed the sentimental tears of mottled bamboo, and is willing to turn into waves of snow for the spring mountain.

"Ode to Bamboo"

Seven-character regulated verse · Anonymous

By the thatched cottage, the small bridge, and the flowing stream, it settles down and lives contentedly. Though the wind breaks it and bends its body, its roots are still upright; though snow presses down its waist and branches, its will is even stronger.

Bearing great fame, it always keeps its integrity; with a hollow heart it secretly gathers mist. It fears neither cold frost nor summer heat, and is beautiful 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 blows all day long, and secluded birds sometimes come.

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

"Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Zheng Gu

It suits mist, suits rain, and also suits wind; brushing the water, hidden at times, and again among the pines. Moved here with a rustling air from a distant temple, washed clean it reveals the front peak.

Invading the steps, moss breaks as spring shoots burst forth; around the path, subtle sedge grows thick in the summer sun. The shameless apricot blossoms are full of sentiment, and several branches piercing the green are wonderfully compatible.

"Ode to Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Du Fu

Green bamboo half wrapped in sheaths, new tips have just come out beyond the wall. Its color encroaches on the book scrolls at dusk, and it casts coolness past the wine cup.

Washed by rain it is lovely and clean, blown by wind it gives a fine fragrance. If only it is not cut down, one will see it grow to brush the clouds.

"Bamboo and Rock"

Qing dynasty · Zheng Banqiao

Biting firmly into the green mountain and never letting go, its roots are originally set in broken rock.

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

"Hedge Bamboo"

Qing dynasty · Zheng Banqiao

A patch of green shade as if washed clean; why trouble with thorns and wolfberry to protect the bamboo?

Still, use bamboo as a fence; seeking help from others is not as good as relying on oneself.

"Bamboo"

Qing dynasty · Zheng Banqiao

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

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

"Ode to Bamboo"

Ming dynasty · Li Rihua

Teasing the mist and piling up rain, its mood is bleak and dense; rubbing the steep rocks is enough to loosen one's collar.

I remember leaving the wine ladle deep in the tall grass; drunk and then sober, when the moon comes out I come looking again.

"Visiting Tao Gong's Old Residence"

Tang dynasty · Bai Juyi

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

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

Yi and Qi each had only themselves; being poor and hungry was not hard for them. The gentleman had five sons, and shared hunger and cold with them.

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

I was born after you, separated by five hundred years. Whenever I read the Biography of the Five Willows, my eyes envision and my heart yearns earnestly.

In the past I often chanted your lingering style, and wrote it into sixteen pieces. Now I come to visit your old residence, and it feels solemn as if you were before me.

I do not envy that there is wine in the cup, I do not envy a lute without strings. I envy you for leaving behind honor and profit, dying of old age in this garden mound.

Chaisang is an ancient village, Lili is the old landscape. I do not see the chrysanthemums beneath the hedge, only the smoke remaining among the ruins.

Though your descendants are unheard of, the clan has still not moved away. Whenever I meet someone surnamed Tao, it makes my heart linger still.

"Immortals by the River"

Song dynasty · Lu Shengji

Suddenly I remember going up onto Pei Gong's terrace, where the autumn air in the distant sky was sharp and cold. Ten thousand mountains and one stretch of water, beautiful and bright. At this time, a traveler in the Three Chu regions, why would he mean to continue the Songs of Chu?

Loving bamboo, I still join staff and shoes; able to write poetry, I delight in climbing together with companions. Continuing the exchange does not exhaust the feelings of past and present. A clear breeze rises from white dust, and the slanting moon shines on sparse stars.

"Bamboo and Rock Scroll"

Qing dynasty · Li Fangying

When a person suffers from vulgar illness, it is hard to cure; for it, Qi Bo's best prescription is bamboo.

The ink method was not yet dry when I just put down the brush, and already the clear breeze has cleansed the mud from lungs and intestines.

"Ode to Bamboo"

Qing dynasty · Ji Qiong

When the wind comes, it laughs with sound; after the rain passes, it is clean as if washed.

Sometimes when the bright moon comes, it plays with its shadow in the tall window.

"Bamboo Grove Cottage"

Tang dynasty · Wang Wei

Sitting alone in the secluded bamboo grove, playing the lute and again whistling long.

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

"Inscribed on Scholar Liu's New Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Du Fu

Several paths of secluded jade color, at dawn and dusk the green mist divides. Its sound breaks dreams at the cold window, its roots pierce the green moss patterns.

Gradually it veils the sun at the threshold, and is about to block the clouds entering the curtain. If not for a guest from Shanyin, who would love this gentleman?

"Cutting Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Du Fu

The temple is abandoned and the bamboo color has died; how could an official family keep you?

Frosted roots gradually follow the axe, while wind-blown jade still taps in autumn.

A bitterly chanting traveler of Jiangnan, where will he send his long, distant thoughts?

"New Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Liu Jian

Near the window and lying by the steps are two or three clumps; adding quiet and deepening seclusion has its own merit. Its shadow threads broken gold as the sun first shines through, its sound taps cold jade as the wind suddenly shakes.

Heaven relies on Old Man Fei's misty waves of blue; do not believe in the red tear spots of the Xiang concubine. It is naturally Ziyou who especially loved bamboo, with a hollow heart and high integrity amid snow and frost.

"New Bamboo at East Lake"

Song dynasty · Lu You

Planting thorns and brushing the hedge, carefully protecting and guarding it, cultivating cold blue-green that reflects the rippling water. A clear breeze sweeps the ground and autumn arrives first; the red sun crosses the sky and at noon one does not notice.

As the sheaths fall, one first hears a rustling sound; as the tips are released, one first sees leaves spreading thickly. With official duties idle, I want to come here frequently, and still have my pillow and mat follow me everywhere.

"Two Quatrains Written Playfully While Viewing Bamboo at Yunxi Temple"

Song dynasty · Lu You

Its spirit covers ice and frost, with strength to spare; by the river one sees this lean immortal lined up. Its clear cold goes straight into people's muscles and bones; can even a speck of dust remain?

Stream light and bamboo sound suit each other well; walking to the stream bridge, the bamboo is even more wondrous. Facing this, do not discuss being thin without meat; shutting the door, one can endure ten years of hunger.

"Eating Bamboo Shoots for the First Time and Presenting It to Those Seated"

Tang dynasty · Li Shangyin

Tender sheaths and fragrant buds first emerge from the grove; in the Five Mausoleums their price is weighed as heavily as gold.

In the imperial capital and across land and sea there should be countless of them; how can one bear to cut a one-inch heart that reaches the clouds?

"Song of Xiang Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Li Shangyin

Through all ages, the bamboo of the Xiang River. Endless, what can be done about its sorrow?

Year after year it grows spring shoots. Only there are too many tear stains!

"Replying to Someone Viewing Bamboo After Rain"

Tang dynasty · Xue Tao

In spring, at the time of spring rain, how can one discern its snow-and-frost bearing? The many kinds are also said to be lush, yet with a hollow heart it would rather hold itself.

It often kept the worthies of Jin drunk, and early accompanied the grief of the Shun consorts. If in late years you can appreciate it, its dark, strong joints are wondrous.

"Bamboo at the Departure Pavilion"

Tang dynasty · Xue Tao

Lush and newly planted in four or five rows, it often bears its strong joints against autumn frost.

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

"Planting Bamboo"

Tang dynasty · Du Fu

Originally planted to block the sun, it seems it was moved for the stream. Distinct are its feather-forest shadows, sparse its mist-and-dew posture.

Rustling on a cold rainy night, drumming in the evening wind. In what year will I reach my old country, and hang a dusty cap on one branch?

"Ink Bamboo Picture Scroll"

Ming dynasty · Xia Chang

I hear that in early summer the whole group fully enjoys one another's company; I paint and gift this elegant jade for you to look at attentively.

I only wish that hollow hearts may share the same late integrity, and that year after year on this day peace be reported.

"Inscribed on the Orchid and Bamboo Scroll"

Ming Dynasty · Wen Peng

Half a day of rain drifts through the west window, wave upon wave; when the rain passes, new bamboo tips rise above the low wall.

No dust flies, no human footprints break the stillness; the green shade adds coolness to the evening window.

"Peach Blossom Spring Poem"

Eastern Jin Dynasty · Tao Yuanming

By mutual agreement they work the fields. At sunset they go to their rest.

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