Translations of and commentary on one author's Taoist poems are presented in a warm blend of spiritual, religious and philosophical inspection which considers the last of the great poet-painters of Japan. Over 150 of his poems are treated to an appraisal which considers both form and content in a fine coverage worthy of inclusion in any strong Asian collection.

PILGRIM OF THE CLOUDS : Poems and essays by Yuan Hung-tao and his brothers. Translated and introduced by Jonathan Chaves. 143 pp. New York & Tokuo : Weatherhill, 1978 and Reissued. ISBN 0-08348-0134-5 (pbk.)

Most of us have heard of Tu Fu, Meng Chiao, Han Yu, Li Ho, Tu Mu, and Li Shang-yin, but how many of us have ever heard of Yuan Hung-tao? Very few, and the reason for this, as Jonathan Chaves explains in his fine Introduction, is the tendency of translators to concentrate on the poetry of the T'ang dynasty (608-906) while ignoring much fine later work.

Chaves explains : "Even many Chinese critics appear to assume that the Yuan, Ming, and Ch'ing dynasties produced nothing in poetry that can compare with earlier achievements" (p.11). This received notion, so far as Chaves is concerned, is simply not true, and he has set out to help redress the balance by offering us a selection of both poems and essays from one of the major poets and essayists of the Ming period and his brothers.

In doing so, Chaves has given us a book which is perfect for those who like poetry. It is also perfect for those who think they don't, because here we find none of that obscurity, that intellectualism, that egoism and striving after universal meanings, etc., which succeeds in putting so many English readers off their own poetry.

Instead we find what Burton Watson, in his own very fine 'Columbia Book of Chinese Poetry' (1984), has described as "a freshness and immediacy that is often quite miraculous," because Chinese poetry, no matter of what dynasty, is a poetry that is "unusually ... commonsensical in tone" (p.3).

What he really means, although he's too polite to say so, is that their heads were not quite so filled with airy notions. Not poems about exalted abstractions, then, but poems describing events from daily life, poems recording the scenes of a journey, poems expressing grief, joy, boredom, and by someone who in many ways is like ourselves.

The present book can be opened anywhere and enjoyed by anyone. The poems are every bit as good as we have come to expect from the best Chinese poets, and the essays are full of simply expressed but keen observations such as the following:

"The good painter learns from things, not other painters. The good philosopher learns from his mind, not from some doctrine. The good poet learns from the panoply of images, not from writers of the past" (p.13).

Although I got this book for its poems, I found that the essays were every bit as enjoyable and interesting. Here are a few lines from the essay, 'Raising Crickets' :

"In the capital, people in every family keep crickets as pets during the seventh and eighth months. . . . I once had two of them in cages, which I hung from the eaves. Their piercing chirps penetrated the night, mournful, extraordinary - purifying my ears" (p.84).

The book is beautifully printed on excellent paper, and is illustrated with halftone reproductions of Chinese paintings from various sources which serve to enhance the writings. Poems, essays, and paintings work together to give us a unified whole that, like the chirps of Yuan's crickets, will help purify the sensibility of anyone who gives them a chance.

One is grateful to Chaves for having given us a marvelous book that can be enjoyed by anyone who would like, for a few blissful moments, to get their heads out of the technoid grind of the modern chaos and be restored to something sane, wholly human, and utterly compelling.