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UBC Theses and Dissertations

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UBC Theses and Dissertations

Poetic inquiry : my journey in language Wu, Botao 2019

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	POETIC	INQUIRY:	MY	JOURNEY	IN	LANGUAGE		by	Botao	Wu			A	DISSERTATION	SUBMITTED	IN	PARTIAL	FULFILLMENT	OF	THE	REQUIREMENTS	FOR	THE	DEGREE	OF	DOCTOR	OF	PHILOSOPHY	in	THE	FACULTY	OF	GRADUATE	AND	POSTDOCTORAL	STUDIES	(Language	and	Literacy	Education)			The	University	of	British	Columbia	(Vancouver)		May	2019	©	Botao	Wu,	2019		 ii	THE	FOLLOWING	INDIVIDUALS	CERTIFY	THAT	THEY	HAVE	READ,	AND	RECOMMENDED	TO	THE	FACULTY	OF	GRADUATE	AND	POSTDOCTORAL	STUDIES	FOR	ACCEPTANCE,	THE	DISSERTATION	ENTITLED		Poetic	Inquiry:	My	journey	in	language																																																																																																								SUBMITTED	BY		Botao	Wu																																																																										in	partial	fulfillment	of	the	requirements	for	the	degree	of	Doctor	of	Philosophy																																																																																																										in	Language	and	Literacy	Education																																																																																																																																																																								EXAMINING	COMMITTEE		Exam	Chair	Nicholas	Hudson																																																																																																																								University	Examiner	Anthony	Clarke																																																																																																										University	Examiner	Samuel	David	Rocha																																																																																																				Supervisor	Carl	Leggo	(1953-2019)																																																																																																														Co-Supervisor	George	Belliveau																																																																																																																																																				Supervisory	Committee	Members	Jerry	Dean	Schmidt,	Derek	Gladwin																																															 		 iii	Abstract		This	dissertation	is	a	poetic	inquiry	of	my	experience	in	language.	Poetic	Inquiry	incorporates	original	poetry	in	academic	writing,	which	ancient	poets	and	scholars	had	been	doing	for	thousands	of	years.	However,	it	is	not	merely	a	repetition	of	the	old	tradition,	but	uses	creative	poetry	in	academic	research	in	a	systematic	and	diverse	way.	Poetic	Inquiry	is	an	umbrella	concept	to	describe	the	various	possibilities	for	using	poetry	in	research.	But,	Poetic	Inquiry	is	not	any	piece	of	writing	with	poetry	in	it.	Poetic	Inquiry	“revisits	the	philosophical	ideas	of	knowledge	generation”	(Galvin	&	Prendergast,	2016,	p.	xiv).	Poetic	Inquiry	highlights	the	importance	of	individual	expression,	and	generally	involves	poetic	truth-seeking	and	poetical	examination	of	inner	and	outer	experience.	The	poetic	inquiry	of	my	personal	experience	is	anchored	in	Chinese	culture.	I	use	eight	words	春秋匪懈,享祀不忒 as	the	frame	and	themes	of	each	chapter.	These	Chinese	words	come	from	the	first	collection	of	Chinese	poetry	The	Book	of	Songs	(11th	century	B.C.E.-6th	century	B.C.E.),	and	they	mean	that	the	Lord	of	Lu	worshipped	god	and	ancestors	incessantly.	My	dissertation	sums	up	my	former	experience	and	my	family	stories,	and	it	is	a	dedication	to	my	ancestors.	After	these	eight	chapters	of	narration,	Chinese	poems	and	their	English	translations,	and	some	English	poems,	I	conclude	that	Poetic	Inquiry	grants	ordinary	people1	a	chance	to	speak	out	their	“impulses	and	desires”	(Dewey,	1997,	p.	71),	and	that	collectively,	ordinary	people	can	contribute	to	the	revision	and	reconstitution	of	the	world	by	telling	personal	stories.				 	                                                1 Amitz’s	(2003)	explained	“ordinary	people”	as	“I	wasn’t	born	with	a	silver	spoon	in	my	mouth.	No	earthshaking	event	accompanied	my	birth.	I	wasn’t	anything	out	of	the	ordinary”	(p.	87).		 iv		Lay	Summary		My	dissertation	conducts	a	poetic	inquiry	of	my	experience	in	language.	I	ruminate	on	my	own	family	stories,	and	thus	invite	my	readers	to	take	writing	as	“a	way	of	living	in	the	world”	(Leggo,	2012,	p.	xvii),	so	that	we	can	explore	the	dimensions	of	our	spirits	and	selves	“that	normally	lie	smothered	under	the	weight	of	living”	(Winterson	1996,	p.	137).	This	dissertation	also	provides	my	readers	with	an	example	to	understanding	setbacks	and	tragedies	in	their	own	lives.	After	my	poetic	inquiry	in	language,	I	conclude	that	ordinary	people	can	speak	out	their	impulses	and	desires,	and	that	collectively,	ordinary	people	can	help	revise	and	reconstitute	the	world	by	telling	personal	stories.		 v	Preface		This	dissertation	is	an	original,	unpublished,	independent	work	by	the	author,	Botao	Wu.	The	previously	published	17	Chinese	poems	and	one	English	poem	were	all	originally	composed	by	Botao	Wu.	In	this	dissertation,	I	rewrite	all	these	17	published	Chinese	poems	in	English.	The	Daoist	symbol	(p.	4)	is	handcrafted	and	photographed	by	Botao	Wu,	the	calligraphy	(p.	215)	is	written	and	photographed	by	Botao	Wu,	and	all	photographs	of	original	collage	art	and	personal	property	are	taken	by	Botao	Wu.			 		 vi	Table	of	Contents		Abstract	.........................................................................................................................................	iii	Lay	Summary	.................................................................................................................................	iv	Preface……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….………v	Table	of	Contents…………………………….………………………………………………………………………………………	List	of	Photographs	and	Pictures…………………….....……………………………………………………………………viii	Acknowledgements	.......................................................................................................................	ix	Dedication………………………………………………………………………….……………………………………………………..xi	Prologue	.........................................................................................................................................	1		Part	1	Poetic	Inquiry	...................................................................................................................	5					What	Is	Poetic	Inquiry?	...........................................................................................................	6					The	Importance	of	Ordinary	Individuals	.................................................................................	9					Poetic	Truth-seeking	.............................................................................................................	12					Poetically	Examining	Inner	and	Outer	Experience	................................................................	14					Innovations	of	Poetic	Inquiry	................................................................................................	16					Effectiveness	of	Poetic	Inquiry	.............................................................................................	18					Who	Am	I?	............................................................................................................................	19					My	Transcultural	Identity	.....................................................................................................	21					Why	Do	I	Inquire	Through	Poetry?	.......................................................................................	22										The	Frame	of	My	Dissertation	..............................................................................................	23						Part	2	Poetic	Inquiry	in	Ancient	China	.....................................................................................	26	Part	3	Translation	and	Aesthetics	............................................................................................	45					Antinomy…………………………………………………………………….………………………………………………………………..49					Shift…………………..…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….51					My	Aesthetic	Decisions…………………………………………………………………………………………………….53	Stanza	1	........................................................................................................................................	62	Stanza	2	........................................................................................................................................	82	Stanza	3	......................................................................................................................................	105	Stanza	4	......................................................................................................................................	121	Stanza	5	......................................................................................................................................	150	Stanza	6	......................................................................................................................................	171	Stanza	7	......................................................................................................................................	186		 vii	Stanza	8	......................................................................................................................................	201	Epilogue	......................................................................................................................................	206	Conclusion	..............................................................................................................................	210	Bibliography	...............................................................................................................................	215			 		 viii	List	of	Photographs	and	Pictures	 Photograph	1………………………………..……………………………………………………………………………………………4	Photograph	2……………………………..………..………………………………………………………………………..………116	Photograph	 3…..…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….117	Photograph	 4……………………………………….………………………………………………………………………………..165	Photograph	 5…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………167	Photograph	6……………………………..………..………………………………………………………………………………..175	Picture	1…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………179	Photograph	 7………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………...180	Photograph	 8…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………213		 		 ix	Acknowledgements		My	supervisor	and	mentor	Dr.	Carl	Leggo	(1953-2019)	fostered	my	courage	and	confidence	to	pursue	my	aim(s).	Carl	 is	an	 inspirational	mentor	as	he	offers	patient	guidance	 through	his	constructive	feedback.	Thus,	he	can	influence	people	in	a	profound	way.		My	thanks	then	go	to	my	co-supervisor	Dr.	George	Belliveau.	I	learned	a	lot	from	George	not	only	academically	but	in	interpersonal	communication.	I	also	thank	my	supervisory	committee	members,	Dr.	Jerry	Schmidt,	and	Dr.	Derek	Gladwin.	They’re	all	top-tier	scholars	in	their	specific	fields.	Yet,	they’re	very	amiable,	encouraging	and	helpful	in	my	journey.	I	thank	them	for	their	countless	conversations	with	me	and	for	their	advice	that	is	crucial	for	my	success	as	a	doctoral	student	at	present	and	scholar	and	teacher	in	the	future.		I’m	very	grateful	to	my	exam	chair	professor	Nicholas	Hudson	and	university	examiners	professors	Anthony	Clarke	and	Samuel	David	Rocha.	I	thank	my	external	examiner(s).	I	also	thank	my	supervisory	committee	consultant	Zhao	Laoshi.	I	thank	them	for	sharing	their	thought	and	care.		I	owe	thanks	to	many	professors	whose	classes	I	have	attended,	and	A,	M,	R,	J,	S,	and	so	on.	I	thank	them	for	their	wisdom	in	the	classroom	and	beyond.	It	is	a	blessing	for	me	to	work	with	many	brilliant	people.	Finally,	I	thank	my	mother	for	her	contribution	to	the	well-being	of	my	family	members.	I	thank	my	late	father	for	his	uprightness,	talent,	dedication,	generosity,	and	most	importantly	for	his	love	for	my	family	members.	I	thank	my	other	family	members	for	their	help	and	encouragement,	too.			 x	In	Carl	Leggo’s	(2018)	academic	last	will	and	testament,	he	asked	us	to	hold	fast	to	“H”	(p.	15),	and	he	took	“H”	as	“happening”	(p.	15),	and	delved	into	three	dimensions	of	the	alphabet:	“hole”	(p.	17),	“hope”	(p.	18),	and	“heart”	(p.	20).				This	is	what	I	seek	to	do	in	my	poetry—to	be	attentive,	listening	with	care,	seeking	to	learn	by	heart.	--Leggo,	2004c,	p.	31		There	is	a	spark	(that)	dwells	deep	within	my	soul.	--Heidenstam,	1919,	p.	81		I	am	seeking	to	live	with	joy.		--Leggo,	2019,	p.	xi,	as	cited	in	Pinar				Happening	is	an	ongoing	process.	The	universe	is	a	system	of	ongoing	processes,	and	the	human	species	represents	a	cog	in	this	complex	system.	As	a	commoner,	I	enjoy	the	simple	happiness	of	everyday	life.			 		 xi		Dedication			I	dedicate	this	dissertation	to	my	ancestors,	my	late	father,	my	mother,	and	my	other	family	members.			 1		Prologue							 		 2		A	glance	at	a	historic	figure	toward	the	end	of	the	Ming	dynasty	gives	us	a	taste	of	the	conflicting	ideas	regarding	a	person.	A	late	Ming	dynasty	military	leader,	Yuan	Chonghuan	(袁崇焕,	1584-1630),	was	killed	by	the	Chong	Zhen	emperor	(Zhu	Youjian 朱由检,	1611-1644)	as	a	traitor	and	all	his	family	members	over	16	years	old	were	sentenced	to	death	as	well.	The	narration	in	the	official	historical	book	Chong	Zhen	Chang	Bian	(Wang,	1982)	seems	legitimate	that	Yuan	cheated	and	betrayed	the	Emperor,	and	that	Yuan	intentionally	let	enemy	troops	go	to	the	capital	city.	But	Yuan	was	lauded	as	a	hero	by	many	influential	figures.	Among	them	were	the	Qian	Long	emperor	of	the	Qing	dynasty	(Yan,	1984,	p.	159),	Zhang	Tingyu	(1974),	a	Qing	scholar	who	compiled	the	Ming	History,	Kang	Youwei	(2007,	p.	468),	a	well-known	educator	and	politician	at	the	end	of	the	Qing	dynasty,	and	Jinyong	(1994),	who	attached	an	article	about	Yuan	to	one	of	his	novels,	quoting	from	scholars	and	history	books	in	his	argument.		We	are	all	“imperfect	human	beings	living	in	the	world”	(MacKenzie-Dawson,	2018,	para.	5).	Why	do	we	“ignore	the	importance	of	personal	impulse	and	desire”	(Dewey,	1997,	p.	70)	to	express	and	celebrate	our	own	lives?	After	many	“speakable”	(Whitlock,	2015,	p.	127)	and	unspeakable	life	experiences,	bearing	witness	to	all	the	heated	arguments	happening	in	history	and	in	the	present,	why	not	calm	down,	sit	down,	and	write	down	our	own	stories	in	poetry?		My	“experience”	is	the	“backbone”	of	my	poetry	(Bugeja,	1994,	p.	97).	Poetry	is	highly	personal	and	accommodates	“different	interpretations”	(Wheatley,	2002,	second	last	paragraph),	and	poetry	is	a	way	to	avoid	argumentative	confrontations	and	to	“cultivate	myself”	(Sexton,	1982,	p.	49).	Lyons	(2008)	claims	that	“poetry	can	help	us	pay	attention	to...the	quiet	work	of	stitching	together	everyday	life”	(p.	81).	Behar	(2008)	states	that	poetry	is	“the	larger	desire	to	speak	from	a	deeper	part	of	the	self,	which	is	the	goal	of	all	artistic	expression”	(p.	60).	Leggo	(2008)	encourages	us	to	write	poetry	to	“learn	to	appreciate	the	significance	of	our	own	lived	experiences”	(p.	92).	Writing	and	researching	with	the	use	of	poetry	improves	my	understanding	of	myself,	and	helps	me	live	better	in	the	world.		Many	of	our	life	events	are	unspeakable	due	to	their	contentious	historical	backgrounds.	My	family	history	was	influenced	by	some	major	historical	events	that	happened	in	China	and	in	the	world,	and	my	family	events	were	related	to	the	major	historic	events	that	happened		 3	concurrently.	But,	I	didn’t	witness	the	past	historic	events	myself	and	don’t	have	a	panoramic	view	of	the	international	and	national,	political	and	social	knowledge	of	these	events,	so	I	don’t	delve	into	them.	I	prefer	to	focus	on	my	own	family	stories	in	my	research,	so	as	to	learn	lessons	and	to	improve	my	character	and	abilities.	Like	purifying	water,	I	collect	my	life	experience,	removing	debris	and	harmful	ingredients,	keeping	encouraging	and	constructive	ingredients.	I	distill	poems	from	my	life.		However,	poetry	is	not	merely	an	“honest	duplicity”	(Cook,	1968,	p.	63)	of	life,	but	“saying	one	thing	and	meaning	another”	(Frost,	2007,	p.	147).	This	is	like	Dickinson’s	notion	of	telling	the	truth	but	telling	it	on	a	slant	(Franklin,	1998).	Or	as	Gerber	(1966)	said,	poetry	is	the	“true	lie”	(p.132)	of	life.	The	so-called	slant	or	lie	is	the	part	of	our	expression	that	is	“more	than	words	can	say”	(Prendergast	&	Galvin,	2012,	p.7).	Jerome	(1968)	elaborated	this	conception	in	a	remark,		Poetry	is	art,	but	it	is	not	merely	art.	Its	material	is	life—the	subject	to	which	the	poet	addresses	himself,	which	is	often	his	own	life,	his	own	experience.	Art	is	the	selection,	manipulation	and	arrangement	of	that	material.	(p.	xxii)		Fenellosa	(2008),	an	American	pioneer	researcher	on	Chinese	poetry,	said	that	“life	is	pregnant	with	art”	(p.	54).	“Playing	with”	my	own	artwork,	poetry,	narrative,	and	photography,	grants	me	“the	opportunity	to	explore	creative	unblocking”	(Wallace,	2015,	p.	1)	and	reframes	my	past	life	events	in	a	positive	and	constructive	way.	Having	survived	the	ups	and	downs	in	life,	we	can	“reframe”	our	own	“past	events”	(Manovski,	2014,	p.	242)	to	“make	peace	with	the	voice	of	our	inner”	self	and	“the	voice	of	society”	(Wallace,	2015,	p.	83).	This	mental	work	makes	“grief	somewhat	easier	to	bear”	(Prendergast	&	Galvin,	2012,	p.	7)	and	the	reframed	life	story	corrects	the	things	that	went	wrong	in	our	lives,	and	helps	us	live	better	at	present.		 		 4		Photograph	1.	Digital	photograph.	A	Daoist	symbol	handcrafted	and	photographed	by	Botao	Wu.		 		 5				Part	1	Poetic	Inquiry		 		 6	What	Is	Poetic	Inquiry?		Poetic	Inquiry	was	promoted	and	brought	to	the	forefront	of	arts-based	research	by	Butler-Kisber,	Leggo,	Prendergast	and	other	scholars.	Butler-Kisber	published	an	article	named	“Poetic	Inquiry”	in	2004,	and	two	other	articles	with	the	same	title	in	2010	and	2012.	Prendergast,	Leggo	and	Sameshima’s	edited	book	on	Poetic	Inquiry	in	2009	set	Poetic	Inquiry	on	its	feet,	and	it	is	the	beginning	of	a	series	of	compiled	books,	containing	the	papers	for	the	biannual	international	conference	titled	International	Symposium	on	Poetic	Inquiry	initiated	by	Prendergast,	Leggo	and	others	in	2007.	Poetic	inquiry	has	a	long	tradition.	The	first	Chinese	poetry	anthology,	The	Book	of	Songs	(11th	century	B.C.E.-6th	century	B.C.E.),	introduced	the	tradition	of	collecting	songs	and	ballads	gleaned	from	different	parts	of	China.	Traditional	Chinese	poets	wrote	poems	to	express	their	desires	and	ideals,	to	convey	the	Way,	and	to	express	feelings	(Li,	1999).	They	wrote	in	a	random	and	intuitive	way.	This	is	the	same	as	the	current	poetic	inquirers’	concept	of	“taking	its	data	from	the	poet’s	(researcher’s)	life	experience”	(Prendergast,	2009,	p.	xxii).		Poetic	Inquiry	is	also	a	new	methodology	that	invites	innovation	(Leggo,	2004),	and	inclusiveness	(Shidmehr,	2009).	Prendergast	(2009)	thought	it	might	be	problematic	that	all	poetry	could	be	regarded	“researcher-voiced”	poems	if	they	were	taken	as	“a	re-searching	of	experience	and	sorting	into	expression	and	communication	through	language”	(p.	xxii).	She	also	found	that	“researcher-voiced”	poems	form	half	of	the	projects	in	this	field.	In	my	doctoral	comprehensive	examination	paper	approved	by	my	supervisory	committee	on	May	17,	2016,	I	proposed	to	use	“poetic	inquiry”	to	refer	to	the	thousand-year-long	activities	of	composing	poetry	in	scholarly	endeavor,	and	“Poetic	Inquiry”,	the	capitalized	proper	noun,	to	describe	the	various	possibilities	and	different	terms	in	contemporary	research,	especially	those	ones	after	the	Second	World	War.	After	this	worldwide	warfare,	humans	gradually	realized	that	we	cannot	afford	large-scale	wars,	and	that	we	have	to	turn	to	art	for	redemption,	relief	and	reconciliation,	be	it	language	art	or	art	in	other	forms.	I	argue	that	poetry	is	a	form	of	research:	it’s	the	difference	between	“poetic	inquiry”	and	“Poetic	Inquiry.”	In	ancient	times,	writing	poetry	was	a	scholarly	activity;	while	now	we	have	to	reintroduce	writing	poetry	into	the	academic	field.	We		 7	have	focused	on	doing	scientific	research	in	humanities	and	social	sciences	for	so	long	that	we	may	have	developed	a	mindset	that	if	research	is	not	scientific	then	it’s	not	academic	research.	But	when	considering	the	nuclear	weapons	that	we	have	deployed,	the	transgenetic	techniques	that	we	have	advanced,	and	the	AI	robots	that	we	have	created	and	accepted	as	citizens,	I	have	to	ask	a	question:	has	science	solved	all	the	“problems”?	The	answer	is	a	resounding	no.	It	solved	some	problems,	and	brings	other	problems.	We	still	have	to	carry	out	research	“by	heart”	(Leggo,	2004c,	p.	31)	so	as	to	live	well	in	the	world.	Exploring	human	emotions,	feelings	and	thoughts	is	not	to	solve	problems,	but	to	express	humane	concerns	for	ourselves.	We	can	look	at	Poetic	Inquiry	broadly,	regarding	the	involvement	of	poetry	in	scholarly	activities	for	thousands	of	years	as	poetic	inquiries,	and	define	Poetic	Inquiry	narrowly	as	a	new	trend	in	arts-based	research	that	can	be	examined	from	different	perspectives.		Poetic	Inquiry	is	not	merely	a	repetition	of	the	old	tradition	of	writing	poetry	as	“a	re-searching	of	experience”	(Prendergast,	2009,	p.	xxii),	but	uses	creative	poetry	in	academic	research	in	a	systematic	and	diverse	way.	“A	re-searching	of	experience	and	sorting	into	expression	and	communication	through	language”	is	called	“researcher-voiced	poems”	(Prendergast,	2009,	p.	xxii),	which	are	used	in	almost	half	of	poetic	inquiries.	These	poems	should	be	framed	in	“a	research	context”	(Prendergast,	2009,	p.	xxii)	to	qualify	as	Poetic	Inquiry.	In	Poetic	Inquiry,	poetry	is	“a	powerful	way	to	access	deep	emotion”,	and	“to	express	the	inexpressible”	(Prendergast	&	Galvin,	2012,	p.	7),	and	can	integrate	multiple	techniques	in	different	genres,	such	as	narrative,	autobiographic	writing,	“photographic	essay”	(Manovski,	2014,	p.	198),	music,	drawing,	film	and	so	on.	Poetic	Inquiry	“transcends	conventional	methodological	and	disciplinary	boundaries”	(Prendergast	&	Galvin,	2016,	p.	xi).	Poetic	Inquiry	is	an	umbrella	concept	to	describe	the	various	possibilities	for	using	poetry	in	research	(Prendergast,	Leggo	&	Sameshima,	2009;	Butler-Kisber,	2012).	Although	the	term	Poetic	Inquiry	is	used	by	the	pioneer	practitioners	of	the	discipline,	there	is	a	wide	difference	in	their	usage.	Butler-Kisber	(2012)	framed	Poetic	Inquiry	with	found	poetry	and	generative	poetry.	Found	poetry	is	to	create	a	poem	with	some	words	and	phrases	from	another	piece	of	writing.	By	making	changes	to	the	original	text,	a	found	poem	has	a	completely	new	meaning.	Prendergast	(2009)	classified	Poetic	Inquiry	into	three	groups:	“poems	about		 8	poetry	and/or	inquiry”,	“researcher-voiced	poems”,	or	“participant-voiced	poems”	(p.	xxii).	Still	other	scholars	(Grace,	2001;	O’Connor,	2001;	Sullivan,	2012)	have	thought	all	poetry	is	inquiry.	But,	Poetic	Inquiry	is	not	any	piece	of	writing	with	poetry	in	it.	Galvin	and	Prendergast	(2016)	suggest	that	Poetic	Inquiry	“revisits	the	philosophical	ideas	of	knowledge	generation”	(p.	xiv).		I	see	Poetic	Inquiry	as	a	genre	that	accommodates	different	intentions	and	possibilities.	Though	some	readers	may	interpret	this	dissertation	in	a	political	way,	I	never	set	out	to	write	it	with	any	political	intentions.	I	am	a	language	teacher	and	locate	my	work	in	the	“Researcher	Voiced	Poems”	(Prendergast,	2009,	p.	xxii).	I	notice	that	the	present	poetic	inquiries	are	characterized	by	the	celebration	of	individuality,	poetic	truth-seeking	in	research,	poetical	examination	of	inner	and	outer	experience,	and	other	innovative	ideas.	The	following	part	1	of	the	prologue	further	this	discussion	by	reviewing	each	of	the	characteristics.	 		 9	The	Importance	of	Ordinary	Individuals		The	celebration	of	individuality	is	the	first	characteristic	of	Poetic	Inquiry.	A	glance	at	narrative	inquiry,	autoethnography,	life	writing,	and	Poetic	Inquiry,	which	are	often	used	together	by	qualitative	researchers,	gives	me	the	impression	that	these	qualitative	research	methods	all	promote	the	importance	of	the	researcher	and	the	researched	as	ordinary	individuals.		Chase	(2005)	traced	the	three	waves	of	narrative	inquiry	from	the	first	half	of	the	twentieth	century	when	sociologists	and	anthropologists	favoured	the	life	history	method,	to	the	following	wave	when	feminists	and	sociologists	reinvigorated	personal	narratives	and	oral	narratives,	and	finally	to	the	present	when	narrative	inquiry	bears	multiple	analytic	lenses	and	approaches.	Chase	(2005)	concluded	that	narrative	inquirers	listen	to	and	interpret	the	narrator	by	summarizing,	supporting,	and	interacting	with	the	narrator’s	stories,	and	by	examining	their	own	emotions	and	thoughts	through	the	“refracted	medium”	(p.	666)	of	the	narrator’s	voice.	Readers	may	be	moved	by	the	narrator’s	story	and	then	imagine	their	own	way	to	tell	their	stories	(Chase,	2005).	Autoethnography	shares	the	same	spirit.	It	explores	the	personal	experience	of	the	researchers	and	focuses	on	their	own	emotions,	thoughts,	and	concerns	(Richardson,	2005;	Ellis,	1997).	Autoethnography	is	often	used	together	with	other	qualitative	research	methodologies	and	bears	other	names	such	as	autobiography	and	autoethnographically	based	personal	narrative	(Wall,	2006).	In	the	eighteenth	century,	life	writing	was	used	as	a	synonym	for	biography,	and	autobiography	was	a	sub-genre	of	biography,	and	the	broadened	sense	of	life	writing	was	about	the	self	and	the	individual	that	favours	autobiography,	diaries,	and	letters	(Kadar,	1992).	The	“blurring	genre”	(Richardson,	2005,	p.	961)	or	the	common	core	of	the	above-mentioned	research	methods	is	that	we	don’t	have	to	be	omniscient	researchers	and	claim	to	know	everything.	Knowing	something	that	is	personal,	partial,	and	situational	is	also	worthwhile	(Richardson,	2005).	Neuman	(1994)	went	a	step	further	and	asserted	that	every	researcher	describes	her	or	his	own	“personal	experience”	(p.	74).	The	emphasis	on	our	individuality	and		 10	ordinariness	is	common	in	narrative	inquiry,	autoethnography,	life	writing.	Poetic	Inquiry	also	stresses	individuality	by	paying	close	attention	to	individual	researchers’	and	subjects’	emotions,	feelings,	and	lives.	Many	poetic	inquirers	wrote	about	their	own	emotions	in	their	research.	In	Shira’s	(2010)	dissertation,	we	can	find	her	deep	love	of	animals,	nature,	poetry,	and	the	gates	on	the	farm	that	were	significant	for	her	life.	Kramer	(2014)	also	expressed	her	concern	for	and	empathy	with	children	in	the	Iraqi	war.	Graham	(2012)	began	her	article	by	recalling	the	loss	of	her	parents,	and	connected	her	emotions	with	quarry	lives,	moths,	and	cottonwood	trees.	In	the	Wei	and	Jin	dynasties	(220-589	C.E.)	of	China,	scholars	had	realized	the	importance	of	individual	expression	in	their	sporadic	poetic	inquiries.	A	poet	and	poetry	theorist,	Lu	Ji	(261-303	C.E.)	commented	in	his	prose	“Wen	Fu”	(2002)	that	writing	should	arouse	readers’	empathy	with	true	emotions.	He	underscored	strong	and	true	emotions	in	poetry	instead	of	logical	and	moral	didacticism.	A	later	poetry	theorist	Liu	Xie	(465-521	C.E.)	highlighted	feelings	in	his	book	Wen	Xin	Diao	Long	(1984)	as	well.	He	took	feelings	as	a	natural	response	to	and	a	consequence	of	the	changing	world.	He	also	used	the	human	body	repeatedly	as	a	simile	in	his	discussion	of	writings.	The	word	Gu	(骨),	meaning	bone,	appears	in	his	book	Wen	Xin	Diao	Long	more	than	30	times,	the	word	Ji	Fu	(肌肤),	meaning	skin,	appears	seven	times,	and	the	word	Xin(心),	meaning	heart	or	mind,	appears	more	than	100	times.	Other	contemporary	poets	and	poetry	theorists	like	Zhong	Rong	(468-518	C.E.)	and	Tao	Yuanming	(365-427	C.E.)	all	called	for	a	concern	for	individual	human	beings	in	their	writings.	Poetic	inquirers	have	studied	all	kinds	of	ordinary	people’s	lives	and	feelings	in	varied	ways.	Their	subjects	can	be	a	teacher	(Buttgnol	et	al.,	2001),	a	homeless	person	(Finley,	2000),	a	mother	(Richardson,	1992;	Barg,	2001;	Eisenhauer,	2011),	a	refugee	(Hones,	1998),	a	poet	and	scholar	(Clarke,	2014),	and	a	plurilingual	researcher	(Prasad,	2012).	Sameshima,	Vandermause,	and	Santucci	(2012)	examined	450	emblazoned	shirts	collected	by	the	Washington	State	University	clothesline	project	and	composed	“empathic	poetry”	and	“found	poetry”	in	combination	with	a	“hermeneutic	phenomenological	method”	(p.	280)	to	draw	attention	to	the	individual	life	of	women	and	their	traumatic	experiences.	Spier	and	Smith	(2012)	took	the	autobiographical	poems	by	Jon	Seaman,	a	patient	with	End-Stage	Renal	disease,	as	their		 11	research	data,	and	explored	his	feelings	and	thoughts	about	doctors,	donors,	and	medical	machines.	Poetic	Inquiry	is	concerned	with	and	delves	into	ordinary	individuals’	emotions,	feelings	and	lives,	and	integrates	original	poetry	into	academic	research.	Seemingly,	Poetic	Inquiry	is	different	from	“traditional	texts”	(Butler-Kisber,	2012,	p.	144),	and	the	tradition	she	mentioned	is	“scientific”	studies	(Vincent,	2018,	p.	51).	Science	can	be	“orthodox	science”	(Irwin,	1989,	p.	1),	“conventional	science”	(Irwin,	1989,	p.	2),	or	pioneer	science,	and	Poetic	Inquiry	is	not	“a	way	to	avoid	the	stringent	nature	of	scientific	studies”	(Vincent,	2018,	p.	51).	It	integrates	scientific	studies	with	the	thousand-year-long	philosophical	and	artistic	tradition	of	scholarly	research.	“Human	experience	has	a	range	of	different	dimensions”	(Irwin,	1989,	p.	10),	and	marginalized	disciplines	may	turn	out	to	be	great	breakthroughs	in	human	history.	Von	Karman	(1957),	who	advanced	aerodynamics	greatly,	admitted	that	“every	historian	of	aviation	starts	with	legendary	examples”	(p.	3),	which	are	the	primitive	yearnings	of	human	beings.	He	also	quoted	a	saga	“originating	in	the	fifth	century	or	earlier”	(1957,	p.	4).	It	used	poetic	lines	to	describe	people	flying	in	the	sky	like	birds.	He	then	“proceeded	from	legend	to	history”	(1957,	p.	4)	and	examined	many	artists	and	scientists’	ideas	about	how	to	fly.	While,	the	dominant	notion	at	that	time	was	that	“the	notion	of	rockets	to	space	was	impossible”	(Taylor,	2017,	p.	9),	several	decades	later,	it	is	common	sense	now	that	rockets	can	fly	into	space.	Poetic	Inquiry	is	a	new	way	of	thinking	of	the	current	scientific	research	in	humanities	and	social	sciences,	and	it	embraces	different	perspectives,	philosophical	insights,	artistic	beauty,	and	humane	concerns	that	our	ancestors	have	pursued	for	thousands	of	years.	Researching	on	the	interconnected	issue	of	“experiences	of	people”	(Irwin,	1989,	p.	2),	Poetic	Inquiry	accepts	and	harmonizes	the	two	“traditions.”			 		 12	Poetic	Truth-seeking		In	this	segment,	I	focus	on	the	most	obvious	characteristic	of	Poetic	Inquiry,	the	involvement	of	poems	in	scholarly	research.	Poetic	Inquirers	use	poetry	to	demonstrate	their	thinking	processes	and	ruminations	in	research.	There	are	three	perspectives	guiding	research	attempts	to	theorize	Poetic	Inquiry.	Some	scholars	believe	all	poems	are	poetic	inquiries,	others	offer	standards	for	Poetic	Inquiry,	and	still	some	others	are	trying	to	connect	poetic	inquiries	with	other	qualitative	research.	O’Connor	(2001)	and	Sullivan	(2012)	embrace	all	poetry	in	Poetic	Inquiry.	O’Connor	(2001)	wrote	research	poems	to	learn	about	other	people,	and	claimed	that	“all	poetry	is	a	form	of	inquiry	and	a	way	of	knowing”	(p.	84).	Sullivan	(2012)	furthers	this	idea	and	adds	that	Poetic	Inquiry	can	be	complicated	and	multiple	ways	of	knowing.	Grace	(2001)	wrote	ardent	but	vague	poems	proclaiming	that	poetry	is	inquiry,	but	he	didn’t	defend	his	assertion	fully	by	explaining	his	ideas	beyond	the	poems.		Alternatively,	Sullivan	(2009)	explored	six	qualities	or	“occasions”	(p.	112)	of	Poetic	Inquiry:	concreteness,	poetic	voice,	emotion,	ambiguity,	associative	logic,	and	tensions,	claiming	that	these	six	qualities	are	interconnected	in	Poetic	Inquiry.	Her	research	aimed	to	set	the	standards	for	Poetic	Inquiry.	Faulkner	(2009)	recorded	her	theoretical	meditations	on	the	character	of	good/effective	poetry:	a	good	poem	should	be	authentic	and	memorable,	and	an	effective	poem	should	use	poetic	technique	in	expressing	meaning.	Leggo	(2016;	2015;	2011a;	2011b;	2007a;	2007b;	2005a;	2005b;	2004a;	2004b)	researched	and	wrote	about	living	poetically	again	and	again,	taking	living	as	a	way	of	poetic	expression.	To	Leggo	(2016),	poetry	is	a	life	style	and	a	way	to	live	well	with	“wisdom”	(p.	72).	Lastly,	Prendergast	and	Belliveau	(2013)	reviewed	poetic	and	performance	approaches,	bringing	these	two	disciplines	together	in	a	single	chapter,	and	invited	further	research	on	the	combination	of	these	two	areas.	Prendergast	(2009)	also	reviewed	the	current	literature	on	Poetic	Inquiry.	She	gathered	all	the	statistics	on	academic	articles	that	involved	poems	and	that	were	published	before	2007.	She	displayed	multiple	possibilities	of	Poetic	Inquiry	with	telling	examples.	For	instance,	she	used	Richardson’s	comment	on	generating	poetry	out	of	participant		 13	data	to	explain	that	Poetic	Inquiry	is	a	fresh,	vivid,	and	affective	way	to	do	research.	She	quoted	from	some	other	poetic	inquirers	and	participants	that	Poetic	Inquiry	is	a	creative	and	performative	act.	Her	research	harnessed	data,	numbers	and	analysis	to	define	and	describe	Poetic	Inquiry.		Along	with	research	to	theorize	Poetic	Inquiry,	other	poetic	inquiries	validate	the	practical	use	of	poetry	in	research.	Leggo	(1997)	applied	reader	response	and	semiotics	in	secondary	classroom	poetry	education,	revealing	that	poetry	provided	“an	environment	for	reflection,	and	a	venue	for	discussion	about	experience	and	life”	(p.	11).	Fidyk	(2016)	used	Poetic	Inquiry	to	examine	the	life	span	of	Emily	Carr,	and	composed	a	found	poem	based	on	her	journal	“Hundreds	and	Thousands.”	Glenn’s	(2016)	research	explored	the	strength	of	Poetic	Inquiry	in	her	own	life.	She	described	how	she	suggested	that	her	students	do	poetic	inquiries	by	sitting	with	the	collected	data	for	a	long	time,	and	she	believed	that	learning	and	writing	are	a	“truthful	way	of	living”	(p.	102).	Kramer	(2014)	used	Poetic	Inquiry	to	address	issues	of	Iraqi	children’s	“exile,	loss,	and	hope”	(p.	1),	in	order	to	“write	the	world	well”	(p.	3).		Given	the	above	theoretical	and	practical	research	on	Poetic	Inquiry,	I	reflect	on	its	character	of	truth-seeking	and	find	that	it	is	trying	to	explore	an	alternative	way	to	do	academic	research	by	writing	poetry,	by	setting	standards	and	guidance	for	doing	poetic	inquiries,	and	by	applying	Poetic	Inquiry	in	multiple	academic	research	projects	and	educational	practices.			 		 14	Poetically	Examining	Inner	and	Outer	Experience		Poetic	Inquiry’s	third	characteristic	is	its	dedication	to	examine	and	express	people’s	“internal	and	external”	experiences	(Sullivan,	2012,	p.	92).	Addressing	life	experience	(Lyons,	2008,	p.	81),	Poetic	Inquiry	can	be	as	simple	as	the	expression	of	the	researchers’	“inner	dialogue”	(Fidyk,	2016,	p.	3)	or	their	understanding	of	the	outer	world	(Porter,	2016).	Many	studies	survey	people’s	inner	experience.	A	poetic	inquiry	of	the	participant’s	inner	world	is	usually	about	a	certain	group	of	people	or	an	individual.	Ann	et	al.	(2009)	used	Poetic	Inquiry	to	research	the	inner	worlds	of	female	prisoners,	trying	to	improve	their	well-being.	Similarly,	West	et	al.	(2009)	investigated	the	life	of	a	deaf	family.	These	researchers	either	examined	the	participants’	original	poems	or	composed	poems	out	of	the	interview	data.	Another	kind	of	research	examines	an	individual’s	life	and	feelings.		Yallop	(2016)	carried	out	a	project	to	trace	his	grandmother’s	aboriginal	heritage	by	telling	stories	and	writing	poems.	Grace	(2001)	researched	a	gay	teacher.	Santoro	and	Kamler’s	(2001)	research	involved	a	teacher	of	color.	The	exploration	of	a	researcher’s	inner	world	is	sometimes	autobiographical.	For	instance,	Walsh	(2012)	openly	wrote	about	her	practice	of	meditation	in	the	Shambhala/Buddhist	tradition,	revealing	her	fear,	her	surrender,	and	her	understanding	of	poetry	and	meditation.		Some	other	poetic	inquirers	turn	their	attention	to	the	outer	world	and	take	poetry	as	a	conversation	with	the	environment	(Raingruber,	2004).	Caddy	(2003)	observed	the	natural	world	throughout	the	year,	explaining	that	the	practice	of	observing	nature	connected	the	writer	and	reader	to	the	world.	Shira	(2012)	also	delved	into	her	experience	on	Butterstone	Farm,	opening	her	gates	of	loving	inquiry	in	nature.	Like	the	abovementioned	modern	poetic	inquirers,	Lu	Ji	(261-303	C.E.)	regarded	writing	poetry	as	a	response	to	the	writer’s	inner	and	outer	world	experiences.	The	prologue	of	Lu’s	“Wen	Fu”	started	with	the	author’s	observation	and	meditation	on	the	natural	and	human	world	and	his	reading	of	classic	books.	It	then	moved	to	his	emotional	response	to	the	outer	world	and	ended	with	the	expression	of	his	responses	to	the	outer	world.	The	work	asserts	that	writing	is	the	meditative	and	emotional	response	to	the	inner	and	outer	worlds.	Similarly,	Liu		 15	Xie	(465-520	C.E.)emphasized	the	natural	way	in	writing	and	the	beauty	of	nature	and	these	thoughts	can	be	found	repeatedly	in	his	book.	I’ll	expatiate	upon	these	ideas	in	part	2	of	the	prologue.	Ancient	Chinese	scholars	and	modern	poetic	inquirers	all	observe	the	world,	think	over	their	observations,	and	respond	to	the	outer	world,	expressing	their	feelings.		 		 16	Innovations	of	Poetic	Inquiry		Poetic	inquirers	are	very	innovative	in	their	research,	which	is	the	fourth	significant	characteristic	of	Poetic	Inquiry.	Beauty,	open-endedness	and	new	skills	and	ideas	are	present	in	poetic	inquiries.	Many	poetic	inquirers	line	up	their	stanzas	beautifully	or	integrate	photos	and	images	in	their	research	to	enhance	the	vividness	and	visual	attraction	of	their	work.	Shira	(2012)	engages	with	aspects	of	visual	design	and	beauty.	When	depicting	“droop”	she	aligned	the	letters	so	that	they	actually	flow	down	on	the	page,	and	she	also	included	many	vivid	photos	of	gates	to	concretize	the	theme	of	her	work:	how	she	lived	on	a	farm	and	led	a	simple	daily	life	with	love.	Wu	(2015)	formed	a	tree	with	poetic	lines	in	my	concrete	poem	“Leaves.”	In	the	poem,	leaves	that	fall	every	year	metaphorically	represent	generations	of	scholars	who	contributed	to	human	knowledge.	Sullivan	(2009),	Hurren	(2009),	Clarke	(2014),	Morawski	(2009),	and	Oughton	(2012)	all	used	photos	or	images	to	enhance	the	beauty	of	their	research.	According	to	Strachan	and	Terry	(2011)	and	Jerome	(1968),	poetry	is	a	piece	of	art,	and	visual	beauty	is	omnipresent	in	Poetic	Inquiry.	Poetic	beauty	can	also	be	found	in	ancient	poetic	inquirers.	In	“Wen	Fu”	(2002),	Lu	(261-303	C.E.)	argued	that	poetry	should	be	beautifully	(绮丽)	written.	Comparing	writing	to	music,	he	pointed	out	five	common	mistakes	in	writing	and	described	his	ideas	about	what	kind	of	beauty	a	work	should	have.	First,	he	discussed	monotonous	and	lackluster	writing,	comparing	it	to	an	uncoordinated	and	ineffective	musical	performance.	Then,	he	addressed	the	combination	of	different	language	styles,	and	advocated	harmoniousness	and	consistency	in	writing.	He	continued	with	the	third	problem	in	writing	and	criticized	those	pieces	that	were	not	written	with	authentic	emotions	and	feelings	and	then	became	unattractive	and	uninviting	to	readers.	Next,	he	was	concerned	with	the	kinds	of	writing	that	were	not	elegant.	Finally,	he	called	for	attention	to	skills	in	writing.		Additionally,	“open-endedness”	(Sullivan,	2009,	p.	119)	or	multiple	interpretations	are	typical	of	poetry,	and	it	is	significant	for	Poetic	Inquiry	to	embrace	the	uncertainty	in	poetry	(Man	Lam	et	al.,	2007).	In	Poetic	Inquiry,	when	dealing	with	the	same	interview	data,	different	researchers	can	produce	different	poems.	The	understanding	of	the	same	poem	can	be	diverse		 17	for	different	people—hence,	the	ongoing	experience	of	complexity	(Shotter,	2010).	A	definite	and	objective	result	of	research	is	not	necessarily	reached,	and	“complexity”	(Rapport	&	Hartill,	2012,	p.	224)	and	“ambiguity”	(Quinn-Hall,	2012,	p.	117,	p.	129)	are	respected	in	Poetic	Inquiry.	Lastly,	poetic	researchers	have	experimented	with	new	tools	in	Poetic	Inquiry.	James	(2009)	used	Poetic	Inquiry	to	consider	junk	email	and	created	“spoetry”	out	of	spam	emails.	Found	poems,	which	have	been	discussed	since	the	1960s,	“encourage	people	to	examine	the	effects	of	the	shape	and	the	structure	of	poems”	(Leggo,	1997,	p.	17).	Created	on	and	sent	out	from	mobile	phones,	text	poems	can	engage	the	writer	“in	a	dialogue	with	the	possibilities	of	language,	with	audience	and	with	the	nature	of	meaning	itself”	(Tracey,	2012,	p.	247).	Language	itself	is	a	creative	invention	of	human	beings	to	convey	ideas.	Playing	with	language	with	new	technology	opens	up	innovative	ways	for	us	to	receive	and	respond	to	language,	technology,	and	the	world.		Similarly,	innovative	ideas	can	be	found	in	ancient	poetic	inquirers	from	China.	Poetry	theorist	Zhong	Rong	(468-518	C.E.)	introduced	the	natural	way	of	composing	poetry.	He	believed	writing	poetry	was	a	natural	response	to	outside	stimuli.	He	said	(1996):	“The	atmosphere	stirs	things,	things	move	people,	so	people’s	nature	and	feelings	are	swayed,	and	then	are	embodied	in	dancing	and	poetry	chanting.	As	for	chanting	and	expressing	sentiment,	why	stress	the	use	of	allusion?	(气之动物,物之感人,故摇荡性情,	形诸舞咏。至乎吟咏情性,亦何贵于用事?)”(p.	1).	Zhong	(1996)	suggested	that	people	should	feel	the	world	and	express	their	feelings	naturally	without	quoting	too	much	from	earlier	texts.	His	idea	directed	the	attention	of	his	contemporaries	to	daily	life	and	the	present.		 		 18	Effectiveness	of	Poetic	Inquiry		According	to	Edghill	(2009),	a	poetic	inquirer	is	granted	the	opportunity	to	see	the	familiar	in	new	ways,	and	they	overcome	the	limitations	of	traditional	print	methods,	disseminating	research	through	written	or	performed	poetry.	I	agree	with	Sullivan’s	(2012)	belief	that	the	poet’s	way	of	knowing	is	as	effective	as	other	ways	of	knowing.	Poetic	Inquiry	“synthesizes	experiences	in	a	direct	and	affective	way”	(McCulliss,	2013,	p.	88),	and	it	touches	on	our	“deepest	level	of	existence”	(Brady,	2004,	p.	630).	I’m	also	confident	about	McCulliss’	idea	(2013)	that	Poetic	Inquiry	“brings	focus	to	ideas	and	data	that	are	most	relevant	to	the	research”	(p.	88).	Actually,	poetry	“not	only	enhances	the	presentation	of	ideas,	but	also	stimulates	and	formulates	the	conception	of	ideas	themselves”	(Taylor,	2009,	p.	16).	Leavy	(2009)	said	that	“poetry	as	a	research	strategy	challenges	the	fact-fiction	dichotomy	and	offers	a	form	for	the	evocative	presentation	of	data”	(p.	63),	and	we	can	use	poetry	to	represent	data	“imagistically,	metaphorically,	symbolically”	(Piirto,	2009,	p.	87).	Because	poetry	expresses	people’s	minds	in	a	more	vivid	and	direct	way	than	“snippets	of	prose”	(Richardson,	1994,	p.	522),	poetry	becomes	a	“conversation”	(Glenn,	2012,	p.	100)	between	the	researched	and	the	researcher,	and	we	know	each	other’s	voices	and	ideas	better	during	a	poetic	inquiry.	Through	this	conversation,	we	can	acknowledge	and	recognize	our	uniqueness	and	the	uniqueness	of	others	while	inquiring	poetically	(Shidmehr,	2009).			 		 19	Who	Am	I?		I	am	a	language	teacher,	arts-based	researcher	and	poet,	a	“scholartist”	(Glenn,	2014,	p.	138).	For	more	than	five	years,	I	taught	English	in	schools	and	colleges	in	Beijing,	China	and	Mandarin	in	Kentucky,	USA.	While	I	was	teaching,	I	began	to	understand	the	beauty	of	both	languages.	My	study	at	UBC	is	improving	my	understanding	of	poetry,	life,	and	education.	This	time	has	been	decisive	in	what	I’m	doing	now	and	for	my	future.	Just	like	a	toddler	beginning	to	recognize	his	identity	and	building	autonomy	and	interests,	I	recognize	my	identity	as	a	bilingual	poet,	scholar,	and	teacher.	I	anchor	my	interests	in	Chinese	and	English	poetry	composition	and	try	to	establish	a	niche	in	the	poetic	and	academic	arena	by	constantly	writing.	I	realize	the	significance	of	my	upward	endeavour	and	am	working	towards	becoming	a	better	scholar	and	a	better	person.	“Some	things	are	so	much	part	of	the	to	and	fro	of	living	that	we	rarely	reflect	on	them”	(Clarke,	2002,	p.	137).	If	you	were	a	prisoner,	a	senior	nearing	the	end	of	life,	or	a	patient	who	could	not	enjoy	the	simple	pleasure	of	walking,	thinking	or	eating,	how	much	would	you	desire	the	regular	things?	The	precious	aspects	of	simple	life	are	similar	to	oxygen.	We	aren’t	aware	of	its	value	until	we	lose	it.	A	poet	“framed	the	world	for	us	to	see	things	with	special	lenses”,	and	“through	the	eyes	of	a	poet”	(Roberts,	2014,	p.	47),	we	can	appreciate	the	simplest	yet	blissful	blessings	of	regular	life.		As	a	poetic	inquirer,	I	learned	to	appreciate	my	own	growth	and	my	trajectory	as	an	“embryo	poet”	(Carpenter,	1942,	p.	15)	and	write	this	dissertation	as	an	example	for	my	readers	to	acknowledge	and	celebrate	our	ordinary	but	valuable	lives.	In	the	Holy	Bible,	the	power	of	growth	is	vividly	demonstrated	by	the	contrast	between	the	tiny,	almost	invisible,	mustard	seed	and	its	final	result—the	largest	of	all	garden	plants	(Mark	4:30-32).	I	am	inspired	by	the	wisdom	in	this	story.	In	my	writing,	I	expatiate	my	“inner	and	outer	work”	(Cohen,	2012,	p.	15)	by	representing	my	curiosity	about	myself,	my	community,	the	world,	and	nature.	I	write	to	respond	to	the	ripples	that	stir	in	my	heart.	There	is	poetry	in	the	air.	If	you	listen	carefully	you	can	hear	it	when	people	talk	to	you—even	more	when	they	talk	to	themselves.	When	the		 20	mountain	talks	to	the	brook,	the	brook	to	the	river,	the	river	to	the	sea,	and	the	sea	to	the	sky,	they	talk	in	poetry	(Bjørnson,	1917).	As	Leggo	(2004)	proposes,			In	poetry	I	am	researching	autobiography,	and	I	am	asking	unsettling	questions	about	the	past,	but	I	am	mostly	learning	to	dream	again,	to	challenge	the	images	that	have,	for	a	long	time,	shaped	me	and	my	perceptions,	in	order	to	imagine	other	possibilities.	(p.	35)		A	self-focused	or	“confessional”	(Leggo,	2012,	p.	xv)	indulgence	in	our	own	lives	is	a	high	tribute	to	life.	Poetry	opens	me	to	a	self	that	is	usually	hidden,	a	self	that	only	comes	out	in	dreams.	I	write	myself	in	my	poetry,	exploring	my	past	and	my	imagination	of	the	future.	I	write	to	perfect	myself,	to	help	myself	to	be	a	better	person.	I	write	to	explore	many	possibilities	for	myself	and	maybe	for	the	world.			 		 21	My	Transcultural	Identity		In	my	meditative	and	poetic	truth	seeking,	I	connect	Poetic	Inquiry	with	Chinese	literary	heritage.	I	couldn’t	realize	how	profoundly	I’m	indebted	to	my	own	culture	until	I	lived	in	another	place	for	a	long	time.	Classical	Chinese	poems	consoled	me	greatly	in	my	more	difficult	times	abroad.	Reading	others’	poems	was	not	adequate	for	understanding	and	expressing	my	own	feelings	and	ideas,	so	I	began	to	compose	my	own	poems.	Translating	my	Chinese	poems	into	English	turned	out	to	be	a	part	of	my	poetic	research,	and	“translation	is	a	linguistic	as	well	as	a	cultural	practice”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	6).		Like	young	plants	divided	from	their	roots,	I	was	transplanted	to	Vancouver	from	North	China.	The	multiple	cultures	and	erudite	teachers	at	UBC	guided	me	toward	transcending	the	limitation	set	by	my	experience,	education,	and	culture.	I	learnt	that	writing	poetry	can	be	a	means	of	academic	research,	and	I	decided	to	integrate	Chinese	poetry	into	Poetic	Inquiry.	Transcribing	my	thoughts	in	meditation	and	in	classes,	I	seek	similar	ideas	from	predecessors	and	learn	from	them.	Tracing	my	family	stories	since	about	a	thousand	year	ago,	I	attempt	to	find	the	causes	of	the	misery	of	my	family.	In	Canada,	I	recall	stories	about	my	family	history,	my	present	family	members	and	relatives,	and	learn	lessons	from	these	experiences.	This	research	has	transformed	me	into	a	more	confident	scholar	and	poet.		Translation	is	rewriting	an	original	text	in	another	language,	and	rewriting	involves	necessary	changes	to	make	the	new	writing	acceptable	in	the	other	culture	(Lefevere,	1992).	Some	original	ideas	were	altered	in	translation	and	others	that	are	commonly	acceptable	between	the	two	cultures	get	introduced	to	the	translated	language.	Lefevere	(1992)	admitted	that	the	new	ideas	and	genres	introduced	by	translation	play	a	positive	role	in	the	evolution	of	a	society	and	culture.	I	accept	the	Daoist	notion	that	an	individual	is	a	miniature	of	the	human	world	and	the	cosmos	(Carlitz,	1986),	and	that	my	study	in	the	West,	particularly	in	Poetic	Inquiry,	is	useful	for	my	improvement	as	a	scholar.	I	examine	my	own	transition	in	the	two	cultures	to	find	a	viable	identity	for	me	in	both	cultures.	Translation	helps	me	find	this	transcultural	identity.		 		 22	Why	Do	I	Inquire	Through	Poetry?		To	see	a	World	in	a	Grain	of	Sand	And	a	Heaven	in	a	Wild	Flower	--William	Blake	(1910,	p.	601)		I	was	born	in	the	Bethune	International	Peace	Hospital,	a	military	hospital	in	memory	of	Norman	Bethune,	a	Canadian	born	physician	who	is	very	famous	in	China.	When	my	mother	was	about	to	give	birth	to	me,	she	had	very	bad	labour	dystocia,	and	almost	died	when	I	was	born.	She	had	one	arm	for	intravenous	fluids,	and	another	injected	with	cardiotonic	steroids.	Maybe	my	difficulty	of	entering	this	world	was	a	foreshadowing	of	the	hardship	that	my	family	was	going	to	face.		My	grandfather,	a	kind	and	simple	farmer,	passed	away	very	early	in	a	farm	accident.	His	funeral	left	me	with	a	vague	memory	of	myself	as	a	toddler	asking	my	mother	to	hold	me	in	her	arms	so	as	to	catch	up	with	other	mourners	in	the	ritual.	Upon	my	graduation	from	high	school,	my	father	was	killed	by	his	co-worker	in	an	accident.	As	a	truck	driver,	he	proactively	went	to	fix	the	tailgate	of	the	truck,	but	his	co-worker	backed	the	vehicle	while	he	stood	at	the	back	of	it.	My	maternal	grandfather	died	years	before	my	father’s	accident,	and	my	maternal	grandmother	a	few	years	after	that.	Tragedy	after	tragedy.	I	couldn’t	understand	what	was	wrong.	I	decided	to	travel	to	the	West	to	seek	truth,	universal	truth,	in	a	poetical	way.	For	me,	Poetic	Inquiry	avoids	partisanship	and	judgement	and	it	accommodates	ambiguity	and	blurriness.	Doing	poetic	inquiries,	I	don’t	judge	the	world	as	a	whole,	so	I	can	avoid	making	mistakes	that	may	be	unbearable	to	my	family.	I	focus	on	my	own	familial	life	and	try	to	address	the	things	that	went	wrong	in	my	family.	To	stitch	together	the	“everyday	life”	(Lyon,	2008,	p.	81)	for	my	family,	I	would	“listen	with	care”	(Leggo,	2004c,	p.	31)	to	the	“spark	deep	within	my	soul”	(Heidenstam,	1919,	p.	81),	meditate	over	what’s	wrong	with	my	family	and	myself,	and	improve	my	character	and	abilities.			 		 23	The	Frame	of	My	Dissertation		I	often	meditate	on	the	Daoist	symbol	on	page	4.	Guiding	my	“pure	breath”	through	my	organs	in	“concentrated	visualization”	(Kohn,	2010,	p.	137),	I	“become	aware	of	psychological	agents	connected	to	the	organs,	the	spirit”	(Kohn,	2010,	p.	138),	and	beyond.	I	“overcome	the	limitation	of	this	world”	(Kohn,	2010,	p.	141),	and	connect	myself	“actively	with	the	greater	universe”	(Kohn,	2010,	p.	139).	The	roundness	of	the	Daoist	symbol	represents	the	origin	of	everything	(Zhou,	2005).	It	can	be	a	symbol	of	the	world,	the	harmony	of	a	family,	or	the	inner	alchemy	of	a	person.	Harmony	and	peacefulness	do	not	mean	that	we	all	should	be	the	same	(Confucius,	2008).	Like	the	symbol,	there	is	white	within	black,	and	black	in	white.	Reaching	its	extreme,	the	Yang	(white)	will	turn	into	the	Yin	(black)	(Huang	Di,	2005).	To	keep	a	balance,	the	dominant	Yang	cannot	eliminate	the	Yin	within	its	sphere,	and	the	dominant	Yin	in	the	other	half	of	the	circle	cannot	remove	the	Yang	either.	With	this	idea	in	mind,	I	enter	my	own	family	story	to	the	framework	of	Chinese	culture.	This	dissertation	recalls	and	rephrases	my	early	experiences,	and	it	involves	narration,	Chinese	and	English	poetry,	photography,	calligraphy,	and	so	on.	It	consists	of	three	major	parts:	the	prologue,	the	eight	stanzas	(collections)	of	poems	and	narrations,	and	the	epilogue.	In	the	prologue,	I	reviewed	Poetic	Inquiry	and	explained	why	I	wrote	this	dissertation	in	Poetic	Inquiry.	The	epilogue	serves	as	a	conclusion	of	my	writing.	The	eight	stanzas	in	the	middle	were	arranged	within	the	frame	of	春秋匪懈,享祀不忒	(Cheng,	2004,	p.	554).	春秋匪懈,享祀不忒	are	two	poetic	lines	from	The	Book	of	Songs	(Cheng,	2004,	p.	554),	meaning	that	the	Lord	of	Lu	(-627B.C.E.)	constantly	worshiped	gods	and	his	ancestors.	I	use	the	eight	Chinese	characters	in	these	two	lines	separately	as	the	eight	themes	to	frame	the	stanzas	between	the	prologue	and	epilogue.	Etymologically,	the	word	“stanza”	means	a	stopping	and	standing	place.	In	each	stopping	place,	I	examine	my	inner	and/or	outer	experience	through	poetry	and	try	to	gain	a	better	understanding	of	myself,	my	family,	and	the	world.	Poems	in	each	stanza	are	gathered	around	a	common	theme	represented	by	one	of	the	eight	Chinese	characters.	The	poems	are	related	as	they	share	a	standing	point.	Yet,	they’re	independent	poems	that	record	a	separate	and	certain	moment	of	my	life,	and	these	moments	are	not		 24	necessarily	connected	immediately	as	they’re	snapshots	of	fluid	emotions	and	life	events.	I	compose	a	traditional	Chinese	poem,	Jue	Ju,	at	the	beginning	of	each	stanza	to	explain	each	theme	and	then	I	write	another	poem	in	the	classical	Chinese	Ci	form	as	a	wrap-up	conclusion	for	each	stanza.		春	means	spring,	the	beginning	of	a	year.	Metaphorically,	spring	is	a	burgeoning	time,	full	of	hope	and	possibilities.	My	poems	in	this	stanza	are	generally	about	scenic	beauty	in	spring	and	my	enjoyment	of	language.	The	simple	enjoyment	of	language	is	the	main	reason	for	my	pursuit	of	a	doctoral	degree	in	Poetic	Inquiry.	秋	is	autumn,	a	season	of	mellow	fruitfulness	and	a	symbol	of	maturity.	In	the	first	few	poems	of	this	stanza,	I	mention	my	current	location	of	being	away	from	my	homeland.	In	the	last	poem,	I	express	my	other	two	reasons	for	leaving	China:	Becoming	a	professional	poet	is	more	attractive	for	me	than	worldly	success,	and	some	inharmonious	events	in	my	own	family	drove	me	away	from	home.		匪	has	multiple	meanings	in	Chinese.	In	this	specific	quotation,	it	means	“non”	or	“no”	as	it	combines	with	the	next	character	懈,	meaning	“non-stop”	together.	In	this	stanza,	I’m	trying	to	explain	that	I’m	not	a	man	of	multiple	aims	and	multiple	tasks.	My	aim	is	very	simple,	to	find	my	identity	and	to	find	consolation	in	language.	懈	means	indolence,	and	享	means	enjoyment.	I	write	some	poems	in	a	light-hearted	way,	depicting	some	of	the	happy	and	relaxed	moments	during	my	study	in	Vancouver.	It	is	really	an	enjoyable	and	unforgettable	experience	here.	I	also	include	poems	that	expressed	myself	being	on	the	edge	of	despair.	In	this	situation,	poetry	always	tides	me	over.	祀	refers	to	the	worship	of	heaven	and	of	the	spirits	of	the	deceased.	Traditional	Chinese	people	take	worship	and	sacrifice	as	the	tie	to	their	ancestors	and	their	hometown.	Personally,	I	saw	many	people	burning	ghost	money	here	in	Vancouver,	and	many	Chinese	shops	carrying	joss	paper	and	traditional	Chinese	gods’	statues.	Ancestor	and	hometown	are	bittersweet	words.	Staying	in	a	foreign	country,	I	clear	my	thoughts	and	remove	the	debris	in	my	experience	that	was	connected	to	the	two	beautiful	words.	不	and	忒	are	used	together,	meaning	“constantly.”	For	these	two	stanzas,	I	mainly	write	about	my	family.	Poetry,	story-telling,	and	photography	offered	me	ways	to	express	my	pent-up	emotions		 25	and	feelings,	to	face	my	experiences	bravely,	and	to	tell	them	peacefully.	I	enjoy	and	celebrate	the	splendid	and	ordinary	existence	of	myself	and	others	in	this	world.	I	agree	with	Amitz’s	(2003)	interpretation	of	“ordinary	people”:	“I	wasn’t	born	with	a	silver	spoon	in	my	mouth.	No	earthshaking	event	accompanied	my	birth.	I	wasn’t	anything	out	of	the	ordinary”	(p.	87).	Amitz	wrote	extensively	about	ordinary	people’s	daily	life.	She	depicted	the	sudden	appearance	of	a	husband’s	lost	brother,	a	girl’s	misbehaviors	in	childhood,	and	other	daily	and	familial	stories.	Similar	to	her,	I’m	interested	in	exploring	“my	ordinary	life”	with	curiosity.	The	hero	“I”,	“my”,	and	“me”	in	the	narrations	of	this	dissertation	is	similar	to	Amitz’s	definition	of	her	heroes	and	heroines.	She	(Amitz,	2003)	asked	her	readers	not	to	“identify”	the	protagonists,	and	suggested	that	her	readers	“regard	them	favorably,	recalling	that	‘one	must	not	judge	his	fellow	until	he	finds	in	a	similar	situation’”	(p.	viii).		 		 26		Part	2	Poetic	Inquiry	in	Ancient	China		 		 27		Zong	(1997,	p.	208)	commented	that	the	Wei	and	Jin	dynasties	were	the	most	turbulent	periods	in	Chinese	political	history,	the	most	bitter	period	in	Chinese	social	history,	but	the	freest,	most	emancipated	period,	and	the	period	with	the	richest	artistic	spirit.	This	artistic	spirit	is	a	result	of	the	political,	social,	and	ideological	realities	at	the	time.	Cao	Cao,	the	great	politician	in	the	Three	Kingdoms	Period	(220-280	A.	D.),	abolished	the	traditional	official	selection	rules,	which	highlighted	moral	standards	and	benevolence,	and	proposed	that	all	able	persons	should	be	selected,	even	if	they	were	morally	flawed.	This	new	rule	influenced	the	contemporary	ideology,	and	undermined	the	dominant	Confucianism.	This	happened	in	the	war	time.	On	a	social	level,	the	people	of	the	Jin	dynasty	worshipped	freedom	and	personal	liberty.	In	the	Wei	and	Jin	dynasties,	society	was	in	constant	turmoil.	People’s	lives	were	not	predictable.	The	harsh	social	environment	led	to	people’s	disbelief	in	order	and	courtesy.	They	wanted	to	free	themselves	from	such	things,	and	pursue	their	independent	personalities.	Consequently,	Confucian	doctrines	gave	way	to	the	coexistence	of	multiple	ideologies.	Confucianism,	which	used	to	be	the	sole	ideology	in	tradition,	was	weakened	in	its	influence	during	this	period.	The	harsh	political	and	social	realities	made	people	bitter	and	angry.	Scholars	wanted	to	appease	them	spiritually,	an	aim	fulfilled	by	Daoism	and	Buddhism.	Daoism	emphasized	quietness	and	inaction	in	the	face	of	nature	and	overwhelming	social	turmoil,	and	Buddhism	sought	common	ground	with	Chinese	cultural	tradition	since	it	came	to	China.	Gradually,	Confucianism’s	dominance	was	replaced	by	the	coexistence	of	Confucianism,	Daoism,	and	Buddhism.	In	this	setting,	the	poetic	theories	and	poems	of	Lu	Ji,	Liu	Xie,	Zhong	Rong,	and	Tao	Yuanming	came	into	being,	and	in	their	poetic	theories	and	poems	were	the	primordial	forms	of	modern	Poetic	Inquiry.	According	to	Lu,	meditation	over	the	outer	world	is	the	beginning	of	writing.	He	said	in	“Wen	Fu”:		 28	Standing	in	the	middle	of	the	earth2,	I	deeply	observe	the	world;	reading	widely	the	books	written	in	remote	antiquity,	I	reserve	my	sentiment	and	ambition.	Following	the	change	of	seasons,	I	lament	on	the	passing	of	time;	looking	at	all	things,	my	thoughts	are	numerous.	I	feel	sad	about	the	falling	leaves	in	cold	autumn,	and	happy	about	the	twigs	in	spring.	My	heart	is	vigilant	and	prudent,	embracing	the	frost;	my	aspiration	is	far,	reaching	the	clouds.	I	laud	the	great	achievements	of	people	who	and	whose	forefathers	are	all	virtuous,	and	praise	the	nobility	of	ancestors.	Walking	through	the	forest	and	treasury	of	books,	I	extol	the	refinement	of	gorgeous	poems.	With	deep	feeling	I	drop	the	book	and	hold	a	writing	brush.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	佇中區以玄覽,頤情志於典墳。遵四時以歎逝,瞻萬物而思紛。悲落葉於勁秋,喜柔條於芳春,心懍懍以懷霜,志眇眇而臨雲。詠世德之駿烈,誦先人之清芬。遊文章之林府,嘉麗藻之彬彬。慨投篇而援筆,聊宣之乎斯文 (Lu,	as	cited	in	Owen,	1992,	p.87-94).		This	paragraph	begins	with	the	author’s	observation	of	the	natural	and	human	worlds	and	his	reading	of	classic	books,	then	moves	to	his	emotional	response	to	the	outer	world,	and	ends	with	an	expression	of	his	meditation	on	the	outer	world.	He	stood	in	the	middle	of	the	earth,	observing	the	world.	He	read	books,	which	is	another	way	to	observe	the	world.	He	was	moved	by	falling	leaves,	and	new	shoots	of	trees.	Then	he	wrote	down	his	deep	feelings.	Writing	becomes	then	the	meditative	and	emotional	response	to	the	inner	and	outer	world.	Lu’s	literary	theory	and	his	practice	match	exactly.	In	his	“A	Song	About	Full	Moon”	(月重轮行),	there	is	an	observation	of	human	life	and	a	lamentation.	“Walk	From	the	West	Gate	to	the	East	Gate”	(顺东西门行),	is	a	combination	of	his	observation	of	the	natural	world,	his	grieving	over	human	life,	and	his	meditations	on	these.	“A	Short	Song”	(短歌行)	is	a	more	                                                2		There	is	no	consensus	on	what	中區	means.	Some	say	it	is	a	study,	others	say	it	is	the	universe,	still	others	say	it	is	the	place	of	the	heart,	the	human	world,	or	the	middle	of	the	earth.		 29	complex	poem	precisely	proving	his	literary	inclinations:	concern	for	people,	looking	inward,	and	examining	the	inner	and	outer	world.	Poetic	Inquiry	shares	the	same	premises.	Poetic	inquirers	begin	their	research	with	observation	of	their	inner	and	outer	worlds.	“Poetry	writing	would	start	as	a	response	to	a	series	of	potential	triggers	such	as	real-world	events,	strong	emotions,	and	sensory	images”	(Hanauer,	2010,	p.	30).	Hanauer	thought	poetry	writing	begins	with	the	triggers,	and	the	effects	of	the	triggers	in	a	way	similar	to	the	consequences	of	Lu’s	observation.	Gerrish	(2004,	as	cited	in	Hanauer,	2010)	also	presented	poem	triggers,	such	as	strong	emotions,	images	and	textual	influences,	that	initiate	the	process	of	writing	(Hanauer,	2010,	p.	29).	Lu,	Hanauer,	and	Gerrish,	all	regarded	the	examination	of	the	inner	and	outer	world	as	the	first	step	in	writing	poetry.	A	poet	experiences	the	world,	feels	the	world,	and	then	begins	to	write.	Poetry	writing	addresses	the	poet’s	inner	and	outer	experiences.	“Poetry	writing	would	seem	to	be	a	form	of	therapeutic	self-discovery	that	allows	strong	emotions	to	be	explored,	explicated	and	expressed,”	(Hanauer,	2010,	p.	16).	Similar	to	Lu	who	wrote	down	“deep	feelings,”	Hanauer	(2010)	regards	writing	poetry	as	realizing	oneself,	and	expressing	one’s	strong	emotions,	which	is	engendered	by	the	experience	of	the	world.	In	like	manner,	Sinner,	et	al.	(2006)	state	that	“arts-based	researchers	frequently	respond	artistically	to	lived	experiences	that	emerge	from	a	community	of	inquiry	and/or	from	self-reflection”	(pp.	1246-1247).	Lu	Ji	and	poetic	inquirers	all	regard	writing	poetry	as	a	response	to	the	writer’s	inner	and	outer	world	experiences.	Lu	and	poetic	inquirers	all	ask	poets	to	observe	the	world,	think	over	their	observations,	and	respond	to	the	outer	world,	expressing	their	feelings.	Lu’s	“Wen	Fu”	argued	that	poetry	should	be	beautiful	(绮丽).	Comparing	writing	with	music,	he	pointed	out	five	common	mistakes	in	writing	and	delineated	his	theory	of	what	kind	of	beauty	a	work	should	have.			Someone	writes	words	in	too	short	a	composition,	faces	the	end	of	the	text	making	a	solitary	affective	image,	looks	down	into	the	stillness	finding	no	companion	for	them,	and	looks	up	into	vast	space	seeing	nothing	following	them;	it	is	like	the	limited	range	of	a	string,	which	strings	alone	and	has	clear	sound	but	no	response.	Some	others	write		 30	lines	with	dreary	tones,	which	have	only	languor	and	lack	splendor.	This	mixes	the	lovely	and	the	ugly,	and	encumbers	the	good	with	blemishes.	This	is	like	the	pipes	in	the	lower	part	of	the	hall	played	too	fast,	so	it	is	not	harmonious	though	there	is	response.	And	some	others	disregard	the	principle	and	keep	the	strange,	pursuing	in	vain	the	empty	and	the	subtle.	Their	words	lack	feeling	and	love,	and	their	lines	drift	aimlessly	away.	It	is	like	a	string	strung	too	tight,	so	there	is	no	strong	emotion	though	there	may	be	harmony.		Some	others	rush	into	concordance,	and	play	a	din,	which	has	bewitching	beauty.	This	only	pleases	the	eye	and	matches	the	common	taste.	The	sound	is	loud,	but	the	tune	inferior.	Understand	the	difference	between	“Keeping	the	Dew	Away”	and	“Among	the	Mulberries.”	Though	it	has	strong	emotion,	it	is	not	dignified.	Still	some	others	are	pure	and	gracefully	restrained,	always	getting	rid	of	the	complexity	and	the	excess.	They	don’t	have	the	hidden	flavor	of	ceremonial	broth.	It	is	like	the	red	string	flowing	chastely.	Though	one	sings	and	three	sigh,	it	is	dignified	but	still	not	alluring.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	或讬言于短韻,对穷迹而孤兴3,俯寂寞而无友,仰寥廓而莫承;譬偏絃之独张,含清唱而靡应。或寄辞于瘁音,徒靡言而弗华,混妍蚩而成体,累良质而为瑕;象下管之偏疾,故虽应而不和。或遗理以存异,徒寻虚以逐微,言寡情而鲜爱,辞浮漂而不归;犹絃么而徽急,故虽和而不悲。或奔放以谐和,务嘈囋而妖冶,徒悦目而偶俗,故高声而曲下;寤《防露》与桑间,又虽悲而不雅。或清虚以婉约,每除烦而去滥,阙大羹之遗味,同朱弦之清氾;虽一唱而三叹,固既雅而不艳 (Lu,	as	cited	in	Owen,	1992,	p.157-164).		The	first	point	Lu	made	is	about	the	diversity	of	words	and	content.	He	thinks	writing	should	not	be	like	a	solo	in	music,	but	should	contain	consistent	and	various	words	and	content.	Lu	highlights	the	richness	in	diction	and	content,	and	some	poetic	inquirers	do	write	in	the	same	way.	While	some	other	poetic	inquirers	use	found	poetry	to	restrict	their	word	choices	to	                                                3	The	兴	here	is	the	same	to	the	兴,	in	the	Great	Preface	to	the	Book	of	Songs	(毛诗序),	not	the	“stirring”	by	Owen.		 31	an	existing	text,	so	as	to	make	an	independent	poem	with	different	meaning	to	the	original	text.	The	limits	are	not	disappointing	as	the	researcher	doesn’t	necessarily	need	to	find	the	most	suitable	words	but	plays	with	the	existing	words	to	describe	a	certain	story	with	its	nuances	(Butler-Kisber	and	Stewart,	1999).	Lu’s	focal	point	then	moves	to	the	unity	and	coherence	of	writing.	He	regarded	discontinuity	in	writing	as	combining	two	musical	styles,	which	are	not	harmonious.	On	the	other	hand,	as	a	poet	and	poetic	inquirer,	Sullivan	emphasized	the	special	logic	in	poetry.	Sullivan	defined	coherence	in	poetry	as	“web-like	relations”	(2009,	p.	120)	or	“associative	logic”	(2009,	p.	121).	She	found	that	poetry	does	not	obey	traditional	Western	logic	but	has	non-linear,	interlocking,	and	web-like	connections.		Lu	also	accentuated	dignity	in	writing.	His	dignity	is	not	strictly	the	conservative	Confucian	“right	way”	(正道),	as	he	was	also	influenced	by	Daoism	and	accepted	newness	and	innovation.		Dignity,	or	“ya”	(雅),	is	“a	restraint	that	enforces	hierarchy	and	distinction	in	relations,”	(Owen,	1992,	p.	165).	While	in	Poetic	Inquiry,	no	rule	leads	to	hierarchy.	Poetic	Inquiry	highlights	equality	and	variety,	and	it	is	an	alternative	genre	to	hierarchical	approaches.		Finally,	Lu	emphasized	the	importance	of	the	allure	of	a	piece	of	work.	“Allure”,	or	“yan”	(艳),	is	“a	sensual	attractiveness	that	draws	us	toward	the	text”	(Owen,	1992,	p.	165).	Poetic	Inquiry	aspires	to	visual	beauty;	all	the	poetic	effects,	like	rhythm,	rhyme,	assonance,	onomatopoeia,	alliteration,	naturally	add	to	the	vocal	attractiveness	of	Poetic	Inquiry	when	applied	in	research.	Poetic	Inquiry	may	also	include	photos	directly,	connecting	“the	visual	with	the	verbal”	(Gladwin,	2014,	p.	111),	and	adds	another	space	for	conveying	ideas.	In	Lu	and	Poetic	Inquiry,	the	beauty	of	a	text	is	not	separated	from	its	content.	They	all	write	with	rich	content.		If	we	say	Lu’s	passage	is	a	highly	condensed	research	on	how	to	write,	Liu’s	book	“Wen	Xin	Diao	Long”	is	a	meticulously	designed	system	about	writing	and	literary	criticism.	“Wen	Xin	Diao	Long”	is	deeply	rooted	in	traditional	Chinese	ideology	and	culture.	The	book	is	written	in	line	with	Confucian	ideology,	but	in	it	we	can	also	find	the	influence	of	Buddhism	and	Daoism.	Liu’s	methodology	and	logic	reflect	the	influence	of	Buddhism,	as	his	book	was	written	during		 32	his	ten-year	experience	of	helping	a	monk	compile	Buddhist	Scriptures.	Liu’s	work	has	some	primordial	thoughts	about	Poetic	Inquiry	in	this	Chinese	soil.		Spring	and	autumn	take	turns	in	order,	and	Yin	and	Yang	ebb	and	flow,	with	the	movement	of	the	color	of	things,	the	heart	is	also	touched.		“春秋代序,阴阳惨舒,物色之动,心亦摇焉”	(Liu,	1984,	p.177).		Years	have	their	physical	embodiment,	and	things	have	their	appearances;	feelings	are	changed	as	things	change,	and	our	language	comes	from	feelings.		“岁有其物,物有其容;情以物迁,辞以情发”	(Liu,	1984,	p.177).			People	have	seven	feelings	responding	to	things.	Being	touched	by	things	and	chanting	are	natural.		“人禀七情,应物斯感。感物吟志,莫非自然”	(Liu,	1984,	p.18).		Exploring	the	intention	of	hill	climbing,	presumably	it	is	feeling	aroused	by	seeing	things.	Feeling	is	aroused	by	physical	things,	so	the	meaning	must	be	clear	and	dignified;	watching	things	with	feeling,	so	the	words	must	be	skillful	and	beautiful.	(All	these	quotations	are	translated	by	Botao	Wu)	“原夫登高之旨,盖睹物兴情。情以物兴,故义必明雅;物以情睹,故辞必巧丽”	(Liu,	1984,	p.27).		Feeling	is	emphasized	in	“Wen	Xin	Diao	Long.”	To	Liu,	feelings	are	a	natural	response	to	or	consequence	of	the	changing	world.	Human	beings	are	moved	by	seasons,	the	essence	of	everything	(Yin	and	Yang),	and	the	movement	of	the	color	of	things.	As	the	outer	world	changes,	people’s	feelings	change.	Chanting	poetry	is	a	natural	outcome	of	the	feelings.			Raise	the	head	to	watch	the	radiance	emitted,	and	lower	the	head	to	see	the	loveliness,	the	high	and	low	are	determined,	so	liangyi	are	generated,	and	the	human	being,	who	is		 33	endowed	with	the	divine	spark	of	consciousness,	joins	in	to	make	sancai.	The	human	being	is	the	flower	of	the	wuxing,	and	is	actually	the	mind	of	the	earth	and	heaven.	Language	is	established	after	the	mind	is	generated,	and	the	magnificence	is	manifested	after	the	establishment	of	language.	This	natural	course	is	the	way.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)		“仰观吐耀,俯察含章,高卑定位,故两仪既生矣惟人参之,性灵所钟,是为三才。为五行之秀,实天地之心。心生而言立,言立而文明,自然之道也”	(Liu,	1984,	p.1).			As	cited	above,	Liu	emphasized	the	natural	way	in	writing	and	the	beauty	of	Nature,	and	these	thoughts	can	be	found	again	and	again	in	his	book.	Observing	the	natural	world	to	determine	the	high	and	the	low.	The	essence	of	everything	(Liangyi)	and	the	heaven,	the	earth	and	the	people	(Sancai)	come	to	being	naturally.	Language	is	created	naturally	after	the	creation	of	the	human	being	and	the	enhancement	of	the	human	mind.		Approaching	tens	of	thousands	of	categories,	animals	and	plants	are	all	magnificent.	Chinese	dragon	and	phoenix	display	good	omens	with	their	intricate	and	colorful	grains,	tiger	and	leopard	are	frozen	in	their	gestures	with	their	visual	beauty,	the	color	carved	by	clouds	is	better	than	that	of	a	painter,	the	lush	grasses	and	trees	don’t	depend	on	a	skillful	embroiderer.	How	could	these	be	external	adornments,	they	are	of	Nature.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	“傍及万品,动植皆文,龙凤以藻绘呈瑞,虎豹以炳蔚凝姿云霞雕色,有逾画工之妙草木责华,无待锦匠之奇。夫岂外饰, 盖自然耳”	(Liu,	1984,	p.1).			People	understand	their	seven	feelings,	responding	to	objects	and	they	have	feelings,	and	being	moved	by	objects	they	sing	of	their	ambition,	these	are	all	natural.	“人察七情,应物斯感,感物吟志,莫非自然”	(Liu,	1984,	p.18).				 34	Momentum	is	designed	with	advantages.	It	is	like	the	crossbow	bolt	came	from	the	trigger	machine,	or	the	winding	stream	between	mountains.	It	is	the	inclination	of	Nature.”	“势者,乘利而制也。如机发矢直,涧曲湍回,自然之趣也”	(Liu,	1984,	p.117).		Just	like	swift	water	forms	no	ripples	and	withered	trees	have	no	shade.	It	is	the	momentum	of	Nature.	“譬激水不漪,稿木无阴,自然之势也”	(Liu,	1984,	p.117).			The	mind	generates	literary	language,	processing	and	cutting	with	thousands	of	considerations.	And	the	high	and	the	low	need	each	other,	which	naturally	pair.		“夫心生文辞,运裁百虑,高下相须,自然成对”	(Liu,	1984,	p.134).			Nature	brings	together	these	subtleties,	like	flowers	and	trees’	shining	with	flowers.	(All	the	above	quotations	are	translated	by	Botao	Wu)	“自然会妙,譬卉木之耀英华”	(Liu,	1984,	p.154).			To	Liu,	the	natural	way	is	the	most	organic	one,	which	just	happens	by	itself	and	doesn’t	involve	subjective	maneuvering.	In	a	natural	way,	people	respond	to	their	admiration	and	the	objects	that	touched	them,	and	people	chant	their	ambition	naturally.	To	show	the	natural	way,	he	uses	charged	examples	like	crossbow,	stream	between	mountains,	swift	water,	withered	trees	and	flowers.	Everything	in	the	world	is	magnificent.	The	Chinese	dragon	and	phoenix	display	good	omens,	tiger	and	leopard	demonstrate	their	visual	beauty,	and	the	beautiful	clouds,	and	grasses	and	trees	are	all	natural	objects.	Writing	should	be	natural:	the	literary	mind	generates	and	processes	literary	works,	and	the	writer	also	considers	the	natural	parallelism	in	paragraphs.	His	natural	way	is	similar	to	Lu’s	theory	about	the	natural	response	to	the	outside	trigger.	To	Liu	and	Lu,	when	there	are	outside	stimuli,	the	writer	naturally	gets	inspired	and	then	writing	happens	as	a	consequence.		 35	Writing	naturally	and	writing	about	the	beauty	of	nature	are	also	common	in	Poetic	Inquiry.	“Some	of	the	most	beautiful	poems	we	have,	some	of	the	loveliest	songs,	happened	into	the	world	simply	because	a	person	who	had	no	intention	of	being	a	great	poet	experienced	joy	or	sorrow	deeply,	and	eased	his	heart	by	putting	that	feeling	into	words.”	(Gilchrist,	1932,	p.	67).	And	according	to	Thoreau,	“Good	poetry	seems	so	simple	and	natural	a	thing	that	when	we	meet	it	we	wonder	that	all	men	are	not	always	poets,”	(Bloom,	2007,	p.	114).	The	metaphor	of	writing	being	similar	to	the	human	body	shows	Liu’s	concern	with	human	beings	themselves.	In	“Wen	Xin	Diao	Long”,	a	book	about	writing,	there	is	active	engagement	of	the	human	body.	Bone	(Gu)	is	used	metaphorically	with	several	meanings.	For	example,	the	structure	of	the	article,	the	essence	of	the	writing,	and	strength	like	bone.	Below	are	just	a	few	examples.		When	beginning	to	conceive	the	components	of	an	article,	you	should	understand	the	grand	design	of	it,	construct	its	structure	(Gu)	according	to	Yi	Xun	and	Yao	Dian,	and	select	words	in	a	grand	and	sumptuous	way.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	“构位之始,宜明大体,树骨于训典之区,选言于宏富之路”	(Liu,	1984,	p.81).		Word	is	the	branches	and	leaves,	and	ambition	is	the	essence	(Gu).	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	“	辞为枝叶,志实骨髓”	(Liu,	1984,	p.109).			As	to	Lu	Ji’s	The	Book	of	Jin,	it	is	very	sharp,	but	the	excessive	ornaments	are	not	deleted,	which	reduces	the	strength	(Gu)	of	the	writing.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	“及陆机断议,亦有锋颖,而腴辞弗剪,颇累文骨”	(Liu,	1984,	p.92).			In	English	poetry,	the	human	body	is	also	very	important.	Vernon	(1979)	wrote	that	“poems	themselves	are	bodily	gestures,	they	will	naturally	express	this	personality	as	well	as	the	way	the	poet	dresses	or	lights	his	cigarette”	(P.	54).	He	also	said	that	a	poet	“speaks	from	his	body	and	drives	the	gestures	of	his	body	into	the	words	of	his	body”	(1979,	p.	1).	Jabes		 36	stated	that	words	themselves	“are	bodies	whose	members	are	letters”	(As	cited	in	Bachelard,	1971,	p.	50).	And	“poetry	is	speech	metamorphosed	by	the	body”	(Vernon,	1979,	P.	58).		Whitman	asserted	the	other	way	around	that,	“human	bodies	are	words,	myriads	of	words,	(In	the	best	poems	re-appears	the	body,	man's	or	woman's,	well-shaped,	natural,	gay,	every	part	able,	active,	receptive,	without	shame	or	the	need	of	shame.)”	(Seery,	p.	278).	These	western	and	eastern	scholars	all	agreed	that	“poems	are	bodies”	(Vernon,	1979,	p.	56).	Liu’s	“Wen	Xin	Diao	Long”	was	one	of	the	earliest	monographs	on	literary	writing,	while	a	later	literary	critic	Zhong	Rong	wrote	in	a	different	way.	He	divided	poets	into	different	grades,	and	ranked	them	accordingly	in	his	book	Shi	Pin.	In	the	preface	to	his	book,	he	also	expressed	his	opinions	on	poetry.	Zhong	wrote	about	the	relationship	between	feelings	and	poetry	and	the	importance	of	poetry.	He	asserted:			Climate	changes	the	scenery,	the	scenery	moves	people,	so	people’s	nature	and	feelings	are	swayed,	and	are	embodied	in	dance	and	chanting.	Poetry	shines	on	the	heaven,	the	earth	and	people,	making	all	things	brilliant	and	beautiful;	gods	get	sacrifices	accordingly,	the	hidden	and	minute	expressions	clearly	depending	on	it.	Moving	the	heaven	and	the	earth,	touching	apparitions	and	the	gods,	nothing	can	do	this	job	better	than	poetry.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	气之动物,物之感人,故摇荡性情,形诸舞咏。照烛三才,晖丽万有,灵祗待之以致飨,幽微藉之以昭告。动天地,感鬼神,莫近于诗	(Zhong,	1998,	p.15).		In	Zhong’s	eyes,	the	natural	world	is	an	inspiration	for	poetry.	The	changes	in	nature	cause	people’s	emotional	responses,	which	engender	literary	works.	Again,	nature	is	the	trigger,	human	feelings	respond	to	it,	and	poetry	is	the	final	product.	To	Zhong,	poetry	is	very	important.	It	makes	everything	brilliant	and	beautiful,	even	god	depends	on	it.	Poetry	moves	heaven	and	earth,	and	touches	the	ghost	and	the	god.	Not	only	the	natural	world,	but	also	the	social	world	can	give	rise	to	poet’s	emotions,	which	also	lead	to	poetry.	Zhong	went	on:				 37	As	to	vernal	wind	and	birds,	autumn	moon	and	cicadas,	summer	clouds	and	hot	weather	rains,	winter	months	and	extreme	cold,	these	are	the	feelings	of	four	seasons	that	are	expressed	in	poetry.	Good	gatherings	entrust	family	bonds	to	the	care	of	poetry,	leaving	the	crowd	people	express	resentment	with	poetry.	This	extends	to	the	official	of	Chu	who	leaves	the	capital,	or	the	concubine	of	Han	who	bids	farewell	to	the	palace.	Someone’s	bones	lie	in	the	northern	wild,	and	spirit	goes	after	a	crown	of	daisies.	Someone	shoulders	a	dagger-axe	garrisoning	the	frontiers,	and	the	fighting	spirit	goes	up	in	the	borders.	A	stranger	at	the	border	wears	clothes	of	a	single	layer,	a	widow	in	the	boudoir	cries	until	she	has	no	tears	left.	Some	scholar	releases	the	seal	of	power	and	leaves	the	court,	forgetting	to	return.	Some	lady	raises	her	eyebrow	and	enters	the	palace	to	accept	the	emperor’s	favor,	she	turns	around	and	looks,	which	makes	the	whole	country	admire	her.	All	these	scenes	move	our	hearts,	how	can	we	extend	our	emotions	without	poetry?	Without	long	chanting	how	can	we	express	the	feelings?		Confucius	said:	“Poetry	can	make	people	gregarious,	and	help	people	express	their	resentment.”	To	make	the	poor	and	the	humble	feel	at	ease,	and	to	ease	the	gloominess	of	the	recluses,	nothing	else	is	better	than	poetry.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	若乃春风春鸟,秋月秋蝉,夏云暑雨,冬月祁寒,斯四 候之感诸诗者也。嘉会寄诗以亲,离群托诗以怨。至于楚臣去境,汉妾辞宫。或骨横朔野,魂逐飞蓬。或负戈外戍,杀气雄边。塞客衣单,孀闺泪尽。或士有解佩出朝,一去忘反。女有扬蛾入宠,再盼倾国。凡斯种种,感荡心灵,非陈诗何以展其义?非长歌何以骋其情?故曰:“诗可以群,可以怨。”使穷贱易安,幽居靡闷,莫尚于诗矣	(Zhong,	1998,	p.20).		Zhong	made	it	clear	that	poetry	responds	to	nature	and	human	activities.	Vernal	wind,	birds,	moon,	cicadas,	clouds	are	the	natural	triggers	of	poetry.	The	activities	of	an	official,	a	concubine,	soldiers,	a	stranger,	a	widow,	a	scholar	and	a	lady,	and	a	pile	of	bones	the	poet	sees	as	the	resources	of	poetry.	This	argument	was	pretty	advanced	in	Zhong’s	time	(468-518	A.D.).	It	is	an	improvement	over	the	ancient	doctrine:	poetry	is	to	express	aspiration	(诗言志).	It	helps	poets	to	turn	their	eyes	to	reality	and	daily	life	instead	of	Confucian	doctrines.	The	emphasis	on	nature	and	daily	life	can	also	be	seen	in	Western	poets.	“Romantic-period	writing	in	general	is		 38	often	characterized	by	an	increased	interest	in	the	natural	world”	(Mahoney,	2011,	p.	555).	Wordsworth	worshiped	nature	and	said:	“nature	never	betrayed/	The	heart	that	loved	her”	(1991,	p.	xxv).	To	Wordsworth,	nature	is	the	spring	of	happiness	and	through	the	contact	with	nature	people	get	spiritual	and	mental	pleasure	in	silence.	Shelly	also	wrote:	“I	have	been	familiar	from	boyhood	with	mountains	and	lakes	and	the	sea,	and	the	solitude	of	forests:	Danger,	which	sports	upon	the	brink	of	precipices,	has	been	my	playmate.	I	have	trodden	the	glaciers	of	the	Alps,	and	lived	under	the	eye	of	Mont	Blanc.	I	have	been	a	wanderer	among	distant	fields.	I	have	sailed	down	mighty	rivers,	and	seen	the	sun	rise	and	set,	and	the	stars	come	forth,	whilst	I	have	sailed	night	and	day	down	a	rapid	stream	among	mountains”	(p.	116).	Wordsworth	chose	to	poeticize	“subjects	from	common	life”	(p.	253).	Coleridge	expressed	his	concern	and	compassion	for	the	poor	in	“To	a	Young	Ass”	Keats’	“Isabella”	has	the	undisguised	depiction	of	the	brothers’	enjoying	others’	words	(Keats,	1926,	p.	167).	In	writing	style,	Zhong	also	favored	the	natural	way.	According	to	his	preface,			Climate	changes	the	scenery,	the	scenery	moves	people,	so	people’s	nature	and	feelings	are	swayed,	and	are	embodied	in	dance	and	chanting.	As	to	chanting	and	expressing	sentiment,	why	stress	the	use	of	allusion.	Missing	you	like	the	flowing	water”,	this	is	thinking	over	what	the	eyes	can	see;	“On	high	stages	there	are	always	grievous	winds”,	another	thing	that	can	be	seen;	“In	the	morning,	I	climb	on	a	high	mountain”,	there	is	no	citation	in	this;	“the	bright	moon	shine	on	the	accumulated	snow”,	there	is	no	citation	in	it.”	Looking	at	the	beautiful	lines	in	ancient	time	and	nowadays,	they	do	not	pull	old	lines	together	or	make	use	of	allusions,	but	are	directly	expressed.	In	the	Da	Ming	and	Tai	Shi	reigns,	articles	are	almost	like	copying	books.	Recently,	Ren	Fang,	Wang	Yuanchang,	etc.	don’t	treasure	the	novelty	of	the	diction,	but	compete	to	use	new	literary	quotations.	Writers	since	then	have	gradually	gone	in	the	same	direction.	There	is	no	one	who	doesn’t	use	quotations	in	every	sentence,	in	every	discourse	there	is	always	allusion,	the	constraint	to	cite	literary	quotations	has	gnawed	badly	at	literature.	It	is	rare	to	see	people	who	are	only	natural	with	beautiful	meaning.	If	the	discourse	and	diction	are	not	superior,	then	it	is	suitable	to	add	literary	quotations,	though	it	lacks		 39	talent,	it	at	least	shows	knowledge,	which	is	one	reason	for	doing	this.	(Translated	by	Botao	Wu)	气之动物,物之感人,故摇荡性情, 形诸舞咏。至乎吟咏情性,亦何贵于用事? “思君如流水”,既是即目;“高台多悲风”,亦惟所见;“清晨登陇首”,羌无故实;“明月照积雪”,讵出经、史。观古今胜语,多非补假,皆由直寻。大明、泰始中,文章殆同书抄。近任昉、王元长等,辞不贵奇,竞须新事,尔来作者,浸以成俗。遂乃句无虚语, 语无虚字,拘挛补衲,蠹文已甚。但自然英旨,罕值其人。词既失高,则宜加事义,虽谢天才,且表学问,亦一理乎	(Zhong,	1998,	pp.15-16).		Zhong	emphasized	the	use	of	natural	response	and	natural	language	instead	of	the	common	practice	of	citing	literary	quotations	in	his	time.	He	criticized	the	over	use	of	literary	citation.	He	treasured	the	use	of	novel	diction.	This	was	revolutionary	in	an	age	when	making	citations	was	common	in	writing.	He	favored	the	natural	way	of	writing.	He	emphasized	the	direct	connection	between	the	writing	of	original	poetry	and	the	outer	and	inner	world.		All	the	above-mentioned	Chinese	writers	were	literary	critics,	while	Tao	Yuanming	focused	on	writing	poetry.	His	poems	are	a	direct	expression	of	the	idiosyncratic	beauty	of	countryside	and	his	leisure	life	as	a	farmer.	He	is	respected	also	because	he	refused	to	serve	the	government	and	led	a	simple	and	self-sufficient	life	as	a	farmer	and	poet.	He	is	the	ideal	of	a	Chinese	scholar.	In	Tao’s	poetry,	the	poet’s	inner	and	outer	experiences	and	common	life	are	widely	involved.	A	delightful	example	is	his	“Back	to	Country	Life.”		怅恨独策还,With	a	cane	I	walk	home	feeling	vacant	and	regretful,	崎岖历榛曲。The	road	twists	and	I	pass	by	a	bushy	land.	山涧清且浅,The	mountain	stream	is	clean	and	shallow,	遇以濯吾足。I	see	it	and	bathe	my	feet.	漉我新熟酒,I	strain	my	newly	brewed	wine,	只鸡招近局。I	cook	a	chicken	and	invite	my	close	friends.	日入室中暗,After	sunset	it	is	dark	in	the	room,		 40	荆薪代明烛。I	burn	firewood	instead	of	a	candle.	欢来苦夕短,We	feel	the	night	short	for	the	happy	feast,	已复至天旭。The	sun	has	already	risen	again.	(Zheng,	1999,	p.1049)		In	the	poem,	Tao	described	his	feelings	during	the	journey	back	home,	the	bumpy	road,	mountain	streams,	and	bushy	land	and	his	happy	feast	with	friends.	Washing	feet,	cooking	chicken,	and	burning	firewood	are	activities	in	ordinary	life,	which	do	not	usually	appear	in	poetry;	but	Tao	used	all	these	things	in	his	poetry,	which	demonstrated	clearly	his	love	of	common	life	and	his	idiosyncratic	way	of	writing	poetry.	Tao	did	not	follow	the	Confucian	tradition.	In	tradition,	physical	labor	work	was	regarded	as	inferior	and	was	despised	by	literary	man.	But	Tao	did	all	the	work	on	his	farm,	and	felt	proud	of	it.	Even	though	his	grandfather	was	a	high-ranking	general,	he	didn’t	see	himself	as	an	heir	to	a	noble	family,	but	more	as	an	ordinary	person.	He	wrote	in	“My	Rural	House	in	the	Spring	of	Gui	Mao	Year”	(癸卯岁始春怀古田舍):		先师有遗训,	The	past	Confucius	has	left	a	teaching	that	忧道不忧贫。We	should	worry	about	the	way,	not	poverty.		瞻望邈难逮,	I	watch	respectfully	and	find	it	too	far	away	to	catch,	转欲志长勤。I	then	turn	to	set	up	a	goal	of	working	hard.	(Ding,	1916,	p.617)		Tao	acknowledged	the	Confucian	teaching	in	the	above	poem,	but	he	described	it	as	too	good	to	be	realistic.	He	set	up	his	own	goal	of	working	hard	to	support	himself.	The	abandonment	of	this	paramount	Confucianism	was	commonly	seen	in	Wei	and	Jin	scholars,	especially	in	the	three	critics	mentioned	above.	This	phenomenon	comes	as	a	result	of	the	social,	political	and	cultural	turmoil	of	the	time,	when	people	didn’t	believe	in	what	the	government	taught	anymore.	The	love	of	silence	and	nature,	and	looking	inward	are	commonly	seen	in	Wordsworth	and	Tao.	In	Wordsworth’s	poems	(1991,	pp.	110-111,	p.	217),	silent	wind,	enormous	clouds,	hedge-rows,	wood,	wreathes	of	smoke	and	a	still	nook	are	naturally	sprinkled	throughout	their		 41	poetic	lines.	The	rising	smoke,	the	dwellers	in	the	houseless	woods,	and	the	hermit	all	indicate	that	it	is	silent	in	nature.			我爱其静,	I	like	the	peaceful	sight,	寤寐交挥,I	long	for	it	day	and	night.	(Ding,	1916,	p.598)		静念园林好,	In	silence	I	think	that	the	garden	and	the	forest	are	the	best,		人间良可辞。I	certainly	can	leave	the	human	world.		(Ding,	1916,	p.629)		闲静少言,	In	idleness	and	silence	I	don’t	speak	much,	不慕荣利。I	don’t	aspire	to	honor	and	riches.	(Tao,	1979,	p.175)		Tao	liked	peace.	He	treasured	the	garden	and	the	forest;	because	of	these,	he	would	depart	from	the	human	world.	He	didn’t	pursue	worldly	things,	and	would	prefer	to	enjoy	silence.	He	meditated	idly.	Wordsworth	and	Tao	seemed	to	be	attracted	to	the	mind	at	peace,	and	they	both	favored	silent	thinking.	But	Wordsworth	is	an	observer	of	nature	and	Tao	becomes	a	part	of	nature.	Wordsworth	regarded	nature	as	a	landscape.	This	suggests	that	he	stood	apart	from	nature	with	the	lens	of	a	human	being,	like	a	visitor	observing	nature.	After	his	departure	from	nature,	the	pleasure	with	nature	would	come	back	to	him	in	silence	from	time	to	time.	Wordsworth	was	a	worshipper	of	nature,	observing	nature	like	it	is	another	being	or	object.	Tao	wrote,		结庐在人境,	My	shabby	hut	is	built	in	the	human	world,	而无车马喧。But	I	notice	no	noise	of	vehicles	and	horses.	问君何能尔?	You	ask	me	how	I	can	do	this?	心远地自偏。Any	place	is	tranquil	for	a	peaceful	mind.		 42	采菊东篱下,	I	pluck	chrysanthemums	by	the	hedge	side,	悠然见南山。And	leisurely	I	see	the	Southern	mountain.		山气日夕佳,	The	haze	enshrouds	the	mountain	in	fine	weather,	飞鸟相与还。The	flocks	of	birds	are	flying	back	home	together.	此中有真意,	This	scene	contains	some	truthful	meanings,	欲辨已忘言。	I	want	to	say	it	but	have	already	forgotten	the	words.	(Zheng,	1999,	p.1059)		Tao’s	living	place	is	physically	located	in	the	human	world,	but	in	his	mind’s	eyes	there	is	no	noise	of	vehicles,	or	horses.	He	had	a	peaceful	mind.	In	his	spiritual	world,	chrysanthemum,	mountains,	haze	and	birds	are	all	his	companions.	He	didn’t	even	bother	to	remember	the	truthful	meaning	beneath	nature.	Tao	and	Wordsworth	both	had	ambitions	before	their	withdrawal	into	nature.	For	various	reasons,	they	didn’t	succeed;	nature	became	their	consolation.	They	came	to	nature	not	only	because	they	loved	nature,	but	also	because	of	their	setbacks	in	society.	Tao	had	the	aspiration	to	fly	far	away	like	a	bird	in	his	youth.	Flying	far	away	is	a	metaphor	of	political	ambition	in	classical	Chinese	poems,	such	as	Li	Bai’s	(usually	written	as	Li	Po	in	Western	books)	“to	soar	up	to	nighty	thousand	Li”	(扶摇直上九万里).	(Li,	1992,	p.320):		忆我少壮时,	I	recall	the	time	when	I	was	young,	⽆乐⾃欣豫。I	was	happy	though	there	was	nothing	that	made	me	happy.		猛志逸四海,	My	strong	ambition	rushed	the	whole	world,	骞翮思远翥。I	stretched	my	wings	and	thought	about	flying	far	away.	(Ding,	1916,	p.629)		Tao	and	Wordsworth	both	expressed	their	personal	feelings	in	their	poetry.	Tao	mostly	expressed	himself	in	an	indirect	way.	Whereas	Wordsworth	liked	to	convey	his	feelings	directly.	Similar	to	other	typical	Chinese	scholars,	Tao	liked	to	express	his	thoughts	and	feelings	through	similes.	For	example,	to	indicate	his	loneliness	he	used	stray	bird	(Ding,	1916,	p.	621),	lonely		 43	cloud	(Ding,	1916,	p.	631),	flying	out	of	the	forest	(Ding,	1916,	p.	631),	and	standing	alone	with	my	shadow	(Ding,	1916,	p.	602).	Wordsworth	would	say	openly	that	he	was	lonely	as	a	cloud.	Although	the	two	poets	of	different	cultures	expressed	themselves	in	different	ways,	their	poems	are	equally	touching	and	engaging.	I	quoted	some	romanticists	when	I	examined	ancient	Chinese	scholars	because	I	was	educated	in	modern	Chinese	language,	which	is	influenced	by	English	Romanticism.		Furthermore,	I	am	partial	to	romanticists	and	share	with	them	some	common	ideas	as	they	have	influences	on	my	way	of	thinking	and	being	in	the	world.	In	the	early	twentieth	century,	many	Chinese	poets	and	scholars	promoted	English	Romanticism	in	China.	These	earliest	Chinese	scholars	were	Liang	Qichao,	Lin	Shu,	and	Luxun.	They	took	different	directions	in	their	introduction	of	the	romanticists.	Liang	advocated	the	political	insights	in	romanticism,	Lin	focused	on	the	sentimental	and	popular	novels	in	the	English	Romantic	period,	and	Lu	devoted	to	the	“Satanic	Romantics	such	as	Byron	and	Shelley”	(Ou,	2018,	p.	16).	Then,	Wen	Yiduo	and	Xu	Zhimo	pursued	self-examination	and	self-expression,	and	they	favored	the	beauty	of	nature	and	the	unity	of	nature	and	literature	(Ming,	2019).	I	involved	some	romanticists	not	to	deviate	my	readers’	attention,	but	to	acknowledge	the	heritage	of	Romanticism	and	its	influence	on	modern	Chinese	scholars,	including	myself.	The	four	Chinese	writers	I	have	considered	in	this	chapter	are	the	most	significant	figures	in	the	Wei	and	Jin	Dynasties,	and	their	works	shine	with	tinges	of	Poetic	Inquiry.	All	four	scholars	concerned	themselves	with	their	inner	and	outer	experiences,	preferred	the	natural	way	of	writing,	eulogized	and	involved	nature	in	their	writing.	Life	experience	is	also	included	in	poetry	by	later	poets	like	Du	Fu,	Li	Bai,	Zheng	Zhen,	to	mention	just	a	few.	The	depiction	of	inner	and	outer	experience	can	be	found	in	Huang	Zunxian	(Schmidt,	1994,	P.	54),	and	Zheng	Zhen	(Schmidt,	2013,	p.	197).	All	these	suggest	that	classical	Chinese	poetry	and	Poetic	Inquiry	have	been	well	connected	for	a	long	time	and	in	a	deep	way.							 44									Reading	and	writing	poetry	is	an	instinct	of	human	beings.	--Yeh (2015, as cited in “Guang Ming Daily”)  	 45			Part	3	Translation	and	Aesthetics		 		 46	I	concur	with	the	“creative	possibilities	of	translation”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	4),	and	agree	that	translation	is	actually	re-writing	the	original	text	(Bassnett	&	Lefevere,	1995,	p.	vii).	Venuti	understood	creativity	in	translation	in	terms	of	a	translator’s	space	to	digest	the	cultural	differences	in	the	two	languages.	He	takes	translation	as	“original”	work	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	1).	Lin	Shu	(1852-1924),	one	of	the	earliest	Chinese	translators,	couldn’t	understand	English	and	asked	others	who	knew	English	to	tell	him	the	English	stories,	and	he	would	creatively	write	a	Chinese	story	based	on	the	English	one.	His	rewritten	stories	were	well	received	by	readers,	but	criticized	by	some	scholars	for	his	dramatic	change	of	the	original	text.	This	is	an	example	of	a	translator’s	contribution	to	rewriting	stories	from	one	culture	to	another,	and	an	example	in	the	extreme.		“To	translate	a	poem	has	often	meant	to	create	a	poem	in	the	receiving	situation”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	174).	Poetry	translation	can’t	be	tantamount	to	the	original	poem	and	doesn’t	have	a	similar	poetic	effect,	because	a	translator	is	writing	“in	a	different	language	for	a	different	culture”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	174).	The	“source-language	poem”	disappears	“inevitably”	in	translation	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	174).	I	compose	my	own	Chinese	poems	and	rewrite	them	in	English.	My	Chinese	poems	are	translated	into	English	to	the	best	of	my	knowledge	and	fluency,	and	this	is	part	of	my	artistic	endeavor.	Translating	my	own	poems,	I	don’t	have	to	“repress”	my	own	“personality”	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	8),	nor	do	I	have	to	be	“subjectless”	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	294).	Actually,	I’m	“authoring”	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	7)	my	writing	in	two	languages.	By	doing	this	freely,	I	reveal	and	revise	my	family	story	and	reconstitute	my	world.		My	Chinese	poems	in	the	classical	vein	were	translated	into	free	verse	English,	dropping	the	metrical	and	rhythmic	character	of	their	original	text.	“Archaic	poetics”	or	classical	poetry,	is	more	difficult	to	translate	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	81),	as	classical	poetry	can’t	be	“easily	imitated	in	English,”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	81).	Pound,	Underhill,	and	Beck	attempted	to	translate	traditional	foreign	poetry	into	rhymed	modern	English	poems.	Pound	practiced	“a	calculated	recontextualization”	in	his	translation	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	81).	But	even	Pound	himself	admitted	that	this	recontextualization	was	not	an	exact	fit	and	was	not	recognized	by	every	reader.	Another	criticism	of	Pound’s	method	is	that	he	“distorted	the	historical	difference	that	a	foreign	archaic	poetry	signifies	in	its	own	language,”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	82).	Pound’s	response	to	this		 47	objection	can	be	problematic	as	he	thought	“a	degree	of	historical	adequacy	is	possible	between	the	source	and	translated	texts”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	82).	Beck’s	work	can	easily	cause	criticisms	as	well,	because	she	added	extra	words,	and	because	her	meters	and	diction	were	at	odds	with	those	of	the	original	text	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	87).		Venuti	(2013)	recognizes	that	“literary	traditions	and	practices”	produced	the	“source	text”	and	made	it	historically,	culturally,	linguistically	and	stylistically	“meaningful”	for	readers	of	the	same	tradition	(p.	80).	He	said	it	was	almost	impossible	for	a	translator	to	reproduce	a	similar	context	in	translation.	In	the	twentieth	century,	the	common	practice	in	translating	traditional	foreign	poetry	was	to	“assimilate	the	source	text”	to	“the	forms	that	dominated	English-language	poetry”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	81).	Thus,	the	rhymed	and	metrical	foreign	poems	turn	into	“free	verse”	in	English	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	81).	This	is	how	I	render	my	own	Chinese	poems	written	in	the	traditional	form.		Most	of	my	modern	Chinese	poems	are	not	rhymed.	But	I	apply	alliteration	and	rhyme	to	the	Chinese	poem	“Deer	Lake.”	As	explained	in	my	supplementary	explanation,	I	wanted	to	denote	the	sense	of	“purity”	and	“peacefulness”	by	adding	these	poetic	devices.	This	specific	poetic	beauty	of	Chinese	language	is	“agreeable	and	natural”	to	itself,	and	it	is	impossible	to	find	an	equivalent	in	English	(Sowerby,	2006,	p.	66).	Poetry	is	not	translatable	in	the	sense	that	something	always	gets	lost	in	the	translated	poem,	be	it	meaning	or	poetic	devices.	I	decided	to	focus	on	translating	the	meaning	of	my	Chinese	poem,	instead	of	attempting	to	create	meter	and	rhyme	which	can	turn	out	to	be	at	odds	with	those	of	the	original	text	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	87).		The	notion	of	translation	as	“interpretation”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	180)	further	convinced	me	of	translating	my	rhymed	poem	“Deer	Lake”	without	rhymes.	Interpretation	precedes	translation,	and	is	“enacted	during	the	production	(translation)	process”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	179).	A	translator	uproots	the	signifiers	from	the	original	text	and	rearranges	them	in	the	target	language.	In	this	process	of	“decontextualization”	and	“recontextualization”,	the	“source-language	context”	is	“lost”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	180),	and	a	new	network	of	“intertextual	and	interdiscursive	relations”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	181)	are	established.	And	there	are	also	“subjective	and	random	choices	made	by	translators	who	are	free	to	translate	or	not	to	translate,	to	follow	or	not	to	follow	the	original	closely”	(Gouanvic,	2005,	p.	158).	“Translation	as	a	practice	has		 48	little	to	do	with	conforming	to	norms	through	the	deliberate	use	of	specific	strategies”	(Gouanvic,	2005,	p.	157).	“Norms	are	more	likely	to	be	dominant	linguistic	and	cultural	values	that	the	translator	learns	and	applies	in	a	manner	that	is	preconscious	or	unconscious”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	7).	As	a	result,	“a	reader	of	a	translation	can	never	experience	it	with	a	response	that	is	equivalent	or	even	comparable	to	the	response	with	which	the	source-language	reader	experiences	the	source	text”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	180).		Contemporary	translators	usually	translate	from	another	language	into	their	first	language.	While	I’m	creatively	writing	a	dissertation	with	English	as	my	second	language,	I	have	access	to	multiple	English	resources,	be	it	British,	Canadian,	American,	or	Australian,	and	I	don’t	have	a	long-established	preference	for	a	certain	dialect	of	English.	All	the	expressions	seem	legitimate	and	acceptable	to	me,	so	I	utilize	whatever	lingual	expression	from	any	of	the	sources	when	it	best	suits	my	purpose.	On	the	other	hand,	my	Chinese	education	was	deeply	rooted	in	Mainland	China,	specifically	Northern	China.	I	have	a	particular	taste	for	Chinese	language	that	was	cultivated	in	my	education	of	over	twenty	years	in	Mainland	China.	Some	Chinese	words	and	expressions	that	are	popular	in	other	Chinese	speaking	countries	and	regions	sound	unnatural	and	ineloquent	to	my	ear,	though	I	admit	they’re	also	legitimate	and	expressive	to	the	native	speakers	of	these	dialects.	Translation	helps	“in	the	evolution	of	a	literature	and	a	society”	(Bassnett	&	Lefevere,	1995,	p.	vii).	Translation	is	necessary	as	“no	language	can	afford	the	stagnation	that	results	from	restricting	or	excluding	contacts	with	other	languages”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	3).	My	translation	introduces	“new	concepts,	new	genres,	and	new	devices”	(Bassnett	&	Lefevere,	1995,	p.	vii)	from	and	into	the	two	languages	I’m	translating.	There	are	ample	examples	in	my	translations.	Poetic	Inquiry	is	an	established	genre	in	Canada	and	other	English-speaking	countries.	I	can	find	copious	Chinese	scholarly	works	that	can	be	named	as	Poetic	Inquiry,	while	the	theorization	of	this	field	is	scanty	in	China.	I’m	translating	and	communicating	Poetic	Inquiry	to	my	peer	scholars	in	China.			 		 49	Antinomy		Venuti	listed	many	translators’	work	to	introduce	the	concept	of	domestication	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	1).	A	translator	changes	“the	linguistic	and	cultural	differences	of	the	source	text,”	and	supplies	“familiarised”	and	“domesticated”	texts	for	“the	receiving	situation”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	11).	The	translator	would	use	modern	English	instead	of	archaic,	standard	English	instead	of	colloquial,	and	would	also	avoid	foreign	words,	such	as	“Britishisms	in	American	translations	and	Americanisms	in	British	translations”	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	5).	The	best	domesticated	translation	should	seem	“transparent”	(Berman,	Berman,	&	Sommella,	2018,	p.	40)	“natural”	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	5)	and	“fluent,”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	178)	“not	translated”	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	5).	But,	domestication	can	risk	reducing	“individual	authors’	styles	and	national	tricks	of	speech	to	a	plain	prose	uniformity”	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	6).	Venuti	presented	the	idea	that	translation	can	be	“an	act	of	violence	against	a	nation,”	as	nationalist	philosophy	assumed	that	a	“metaphysical”	and	“homogeneous”	“concept	of	identity”	is	essential	for	a	nation	with	particular	“language	and	culture”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	116).	Then	he	discussed	the	contradictions	to	this	attitude	by	pointing	out	that	translation	can	strengthen	national	language,	culture	and	literature.	He	also	believed	that	translation	has	to	assimilate	the	“source	text”	to	the	pre-existing	“national	identity”	of	the	target	language	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	117).	Ultimately,	he	admitted	that	translation	benefits	“the	formation	of	national	identities.”	The	reasons	are	two-fold.	The	“source	text”	is	carefully	selected	to	suit	the	need	of	the	target	language	and	society	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	119).	And	the	translation	strategy	should	represent	“a	distinguishing	characteristic	of	the	nation,”	integrating	into	the	“national	discourse”	and	the	“national	language”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	119).		“Cultural	otherness”	and	foreignness	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	3)	inject	new	blood	into	a	long-established	language.	Berman	asks	translators	to	“disclose	the	Foreign	as	Foreign	in	its	own	linguistic	space”	(Berman,	1999,	p.	75	as	translated	and	cited	in	Venuti,	2013,	p.	186),	and	called	for	the	respect	for	“the	differences	of	foreign	texts	and	cultures”	(Berman,	1999,	p.	76	as	translated	and	cited	in	Venuti,	2013,	p.	186).	Translators	“foreignize”	their	translation	by	maintaining	the	differences	of	the	original	text	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	29).	Then	“new	concepts,	new		 50	genres,	and	new	devices”	(Bassnett	&	Lefevere,	1995,	p.	vii)	will	be	introduced	to	the	target	language.	“World	literature”	is	“a	distinctive	form	of	textuality”	and	“mode	of	reception”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	5).	In	this	process,	“foreign	form”	crosses	“linguistic	and	cultural	borders”	and	joins	“to	local	content”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	5).	Overcoming	the	confines	and	limitations	of	languages,	translation	communicates	“the	universal	spirit”	or	“the	human	spirit”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	118).	I	myself	am	trying	to	explore	the	meaning	of	being	human,	or	“the	universal	human	spirit”	in	my	dissertation.	Yeoman	(2012)	has	a	good	understanding	of	domestication	and	foreignization.	Domestication	can	make	readers	of	the	target	language	to	“relate	to”	the	original	text,	and	to	“feel	they	belong	to	the	same	world”	(p.	46).	This	is	beneficial	for	the	promotion	of	the	original	work	in	the	world	of	the	translated	language.	But	this	will	mislead	readers	of	the	target	language	in	a	way	that	they	don’t	know	how	different	the	world	of	the	original	text	is.	Foreignization	invites	readers	to	“learn	from	the	other	without	possessing	or	even	identifying,	but	simply	accepting	their	alterity”	(Yeoman,	p.	46).		 		 51	Shift		The	concept	of	“shift”	was	developed	since	the	1960s	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	14).	Venuti	realized	the	“textual	effects”	(2013,	p.	14)	of	a	translator’s	decision-making	for	readers	with	different	cultural	and	lingual	backgrounds.	Venuti	also	took	Creagh’s	“polylingual	mixture	of	standard	and	colloquial,	British	and	American”	resources	in	his	translations	as	an	example	for	the	“conversational	quality”	of	translation	(2013,	p.	14).		I	pronounce	some	English	words	the	British	way	and	use	“trousers”	to	refer	to	“pants.”	My	first	English	teacher	spoke	some	words	with	a	British	accent	and	my	first	English	textbooks	used	“trousers.”	When	I	encounter	a	new	English	word	and	look	it	up	in	online	dictionaries	I	see	different	meanings	of	the	same	word	from	Cambridge	Dictionary,	Longman	Dictionary,	Merriam-Webster,	Macmillan	English	Dictionary,	and	Oxford	Dictionary.	For	example,	“story”	is	not	labelled	as	verb	in	the	online	Cambridge	Dictionary.	The	online	Longman	Dictionary	contains	three	meanings	of	the	verb:	“telling	a	story”,	“reading	a	story”,	and	“writing	a	story.”	The	online	Merriam-Webster	dictionary	demonstrates	two	out	of	five	meanings	of	the	verb,	and	classifies	it	into	an	archaic	verb.	Similarly,	my	literary	Chinese	is	also	influenced	by	my	different	cultural	and	lingual	heritage.	Every	Chinese	dynasty	has	their	own	standard	and	colloquial	Chinese	languages.	I	read	Chinese	poems	from	those	first	collections	of	Chinese	poetry	all	the	way	to	modern	Chinese	poems.	I	compose	my	traditional	Chinese	poems	based	on	my	reading	and	understanding	of	classical	poems	in	different	periods	of	China,	and	my	modern	Chinese	poems	according	to	my	education	in	the	language.	A	similar	situation	is	the	juxtaposition	of	“classical”	and	“vernacular”	languages.	A	famous	poem	attributed	to	Qin	Guan	(1049-1100),	“On	Snow	in	a	Boat	at	Red	Cliff”,	borrowed	an	elegant	image	of	a	fisherman	fishing	in	a	“solitary	boat”	(Tian,	2018,	p.	318),	but	added	zhen’ge	(真个,	truly,	indeed),	a	highly	vernacular	expression,	to	“evoke	a	sense	of	‘what	really	is	in	real	life’”	(Tian,	2018,	p.	319).	When	I	quoted	Heidenstam’s	“there	is	a	spark	dwells	deep	within	my	soul”,	I	thought	there	is	something	wrong	grammatically,	but	I	trusted	the	authority	of	the	translator	and	the	publisher.	Most	importantly,	I	liked	the	spirit	conveyed	in	this	poetic	line.	Later	on,	my	supervisor	reminded	me	the	problem	in	this	quotation.	I	checked	again	the	original	source	and		 52	found	the	same	sentence	as	I	just	cited	in	this	paragraph,	but	I	had	to	address	the	editing	suggestion	from	my	supervisory	committee.	Then	I	put	a	“that”	in	parentheses	in	my	quotation.	I	could	appreciate	the	poetic	beauty	of	the	translated	poems	of	Heidenstam	that	were	published	in	1919,	and	I	also	respect	the	expertise	of	my	supervisory	committee.	By	using	multiple-resourced	language,	I	agree	with	the	idea	that	the	register	of	words	is	“fluctuating	and	artificial”	(Hudson,	1998,	p.	82)	and	is	changing	all	the	time	for	different	people	in	different	regions.	Pender	St.	in	China	Town,	Vancouver	is	translated	into	Chinese	as	⽚打街,	which	is	very	odd	for	Mainland	Chinese	speakers,	as	it	literally	means	“beating	a	bunch	of	people.”	But	it	is	recognized	by	Vancouver	municipal	government.	And	the	Chinese	words	are	shown	on	the	official	road	signs	in	Vancouver.	This	kind	of	change	is	bidirectional.	The	sentence	“Long	time	no	see”	in	oral	English	originates	from	Chinese	English.	It	was	a	“wrong	sentence”	decades	ago.	Now	it	is	at	least	partially	accepted	by	English	speakers.	I	don’t	have	a	panoramic	view	of	the	social	and	cultural,	political	and	economic	landscape	of	all	the	English	countries,	and	I	take	all	the	reputable	resources	as	proper	and	acceptable.			Venuti	takes	translation	as	“an	interpretive	act	with	far-reaching	social	effects”	and	this	is	“enabled	and	constrained	by	specific	cultural	situations.”	“Cultures	never	exist	in	a	pure	state	but	are	constituted	in	and	through	negotiation	with	other	cultural	practices”	(Papastergiadis,	2000,	p.	136).	And	“our	world	is	a	sort	of	cluster	of	different	cultural	identities”,	either	recognizing	or	excluding	each	other	(Buden,	Nowotny,	&	Simon	et	al,	2009,	p.	198).	In	this	“fluid	and	unstable	zone”	of	cultural	differences,	cultural	identity	is	“produced	through	the	constant	negotiation	between	past	and	present,	here	and	elsewhere,	absence	and	presence,	self	and	other”	(Papastergiadis,	2000,	p.	159).	“The	translator’s	interpretation	is	always	performed	in	and	influenced	by	a	cultural	situation	where	values,	beliefs,	and	representations	as	well	as	the	social	groups	to	which	they	are	affiliated	are	arrayed	in	a	hierarchical	order	of	power	and	prestige”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	182).	In	this	hierarchically	arranged	cultural	situation,	translation	helps	form	people’s	“cultural	identity”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	182).	I	like	the	London	accent	of	British	English,	and	I	also	favor	the	American	pronunciation	emphasizing	the	sound	“r.”	Now	I’m	in	Canada,	and	I	try	to	learn	from	my	Canadian	friends	how	to	pronounce	words	like	“herb,”	“project,”	“again”	and	so	on	in	Canadian	ways.	Besides,	I	know		 53	even	the	speakers	of	a	same	dialect	of	English	can	explain	their	penchant	for	their	lingual	expressions	or	ways	of	doing	things	as	having	“many	reasons”	or	“a	multiple	reason.”	Language	is	changing	gradually	all	the	time,	and	is	connected	with	other	disciplines.	I	regard	words	from	all	resources	as	equally	expressive	as	long	as	they	suit	my	specific	purpose.	In	terms	of	my	language	usage,	I	follow	the	direction	of	my	supervisors	and	my	internal	and	external	university	examiners.	Thanks	to	the	idiosyncratic	cultural	and	historical	heritage	in	Canada,	I	was	allowed	to	write	a	dissertation	that	respects	and	accepts	cultural	and	lingual	heritage	from	multiple	resources.			 		 54	My	Aesthetic	Decisions		I	have	to	expatiate	the	following	part	of	the	poem	“Dream,”	as	it	involves	an	image	that	is	a	long	tradition	in	Chinese	culture.	太息	is	a	deep	sigh	made	when	people	feel	despondent.	Here	I	take	my	sigh	as	if	it	is	a	tangible	object	and	I	press	it	in	my	heart.	The	sad	feeling	fills	my	heart	and	intensifies	the	tension	of	the	poem.	Then,	there	is	a	change	in	the	next	line,	I	see	a	silhouette	in	my	window,	which	alleviates	the	tension.	And	this	silhouette	in	my	dream	is	my	late	father.			太息																										A	sigh	凝固在																					solidified	渺茫的心房												in	my	vague	heart		Sometimes	I	have	the	feeling	that	words	lead	a	private	existence	of	their	own,	apart	from	us,	and	that	when	we	speak	or	write,	especially	in	moments	of	strong	emotion,	we	do	little	more	than	hitch	a	ride	on	some	obliging	syllable	or	accommodating	phrase.	At	such	moments,	words	disclose	their	secret	autonomy.	We	feel	their	power,	the	power	of	an	energy	as	ancient	as	humanity	itself,	and	which	we	are	merely	privileged	to	borrow	for	a	time.	(Ormsby,	2001,	p.	13)		I	quote	Ormsby’s	comment	on	poetry	to	begin	my	explanation	of	the	aesthetic	decision-making	in	my	English	poem	“Rose.”	I	composed	this	piece	when	I	was	roaming	in	the	city	of	Vancouver.	I	saw	the	flower	with	raindrops	on	it	and	was	touched.	Just	like	Ormsby	wrote,	English	words	flashed	into	my	mind	as	if	they	were	living	creatures.	I	sketched	them	down	and	decided	to	write	this	concrete	poem.	The	shape	of	the	poem	is	like	a	pair	of	wings.	With	it,	I	try	to	convey	the	meaning	that	the	loose	petals	are	going	to	fly	in	the	air.	I	intentionally	change	the	word	order	of	the	last	line	so	as	to	have	it	rhyme	with	“petals”	in	the	above	line.	I	use	the	literary	words	“vernal”	and	“behold”	to	add	some	lighthearted	and	old-style	flavor	to	the	poem.	Again,	I	sprinkle	some	old-fashioned	words	to	express	my	nostalgia.	Also,	I	intentionally	change		 55	the	word	order	in	the	last	line	to	have	it	rhyme	with	the	above	line,	and	I	acknowledge	that	the	natural	word	order	should	be	“have	a	special	look.”	The next English poem “Sparrow” is a concrete poem. I line up the poetic lines to form a shape of two connected arrowheads. I also try to rhyme the adjacent lines. In terms of word choice, my poet friend who is a native English speaker, suggested that I use the verb “fly” consistently in one poem. But, I use “swim” as a verb in the third line, because I appreciate Daoist master Zhang Zhishun’s interpretation of longevity. He asked his students to imitate flying birds and swimming fish in meditation exercise. 	花																				Flowers		夙夜春雨急		Vernal	rain	falls	incessantly,	风啸引鸥啼		Gull	squawks	as	the	wind	howls.	卷帘半推窗		I	roll	up	the	curtain,	open	the	window	half-way,	花若洪流宕		See	a	torrent	of	flowers	flooding.		I	add	“I”	in	the	third	line	in	my	translation	of	the	above	poem.	When	writing	a	poem	with	a	persona	in	it,	generally	I	would	take	the	character	as	the	poet.	Yet,	this	poem	is	not	a	realistic	description	of	what	happened.	The	flower	is	planted	in	my	neighbor’s	garden,	but	my	window	does	not	face	my	neighbor’s	garden.	Also,	the	curtain	here	in	Vancouver	cannot	be	rolled	up.	Rolling	up	the	curtain	is	an	image	in	ancient	Chinese	literature.	The	whole	poem	is	a	mix	of	reality	and	imagination.			春																														Spring		寒云方去邈庭梧			Cold	clouds	just	left,	the	phoenix	tree	in	my	yard	seems	taller	陋巷芭蕉桂树孤			In	my	shabby	alley	only	a	plantain	and	a	sweet	olive	spike	up	百啭春莺迎客至			The	tweeting	vernal	warblers,	welcoming	my	guest	山青水碧乐浅湖			In	blue	mountains	and	green	water,	we	enjoy	the	shallow	lakes		 56		Some	literary	Chinese	words	are	intentionally	used	in	the	above	Chinese	poem.	A	critic	may	call	them	archaic,	and	I	take	them	as	classical.	Many	modern	Chinese	poets	write	in	similar	ways,	and	some	poetry	journals	accept	this	kind	of	classical	poetry.	I	myself	have	recently	published	some	Chinese	poems	of	this	style.	In	the	process	of	composing	I	aim	at	creating	a	“foreignness”	in	the	poem.	I	make	a	world	in	this	specific	context,	where	there	is	no	human	struggle,	but	happy	faces,	no	pollution	and	contamination,	only	natural	and	rural	beauty.	In	my	translation,	I	use	“phoenix	tree”	for	梧桐.	The	academic	name	for	the	tree	is	Firmiana	simplex,	which	is	not	appropriate	in	poetry.	Some	other	English	translators	use	its	Chinese	pronunciation	“Wu’tong.”	A	foreign	word	such	as	“Wu’tong”	has	no	meaning	for	English	readers,	except	for	its	obvious	“foreignness.”	I	use	phoenix	tree	to	connote	the	Chinese	culture	of	梧桐	being	a	tree	that	the	phoenix	lives	in.	Phoenix	tree	may	not	be	exactly	梧桐	according	to	botanical	classification,	but	in	terms	of	culture,	phoenix	tree	is	the	best	translation	for	梧桐.	In	the	concrete	poem	“Leaves,”	I	form	the	poetic	lines	in	the	shape	of	a	tree,	so	that	the	shape	of	the	poem	fits	the	theme	and	atmosphere	of	the	poem.	I	also	use	some	obsolete	and	rare	words	like	“scion”	and	“olivine”	to	reminisce	about	the	past.		I	also	creatively	add	some	background	knowledge	both	in	my	translation	and	as	supplementary	texts,	so	that	English	readers	can	understand	what	my	poems	are	about.	My	supplementary	materials	explain	the	cultural	heritage	in	my	original	text	to	the	English	readers,	so	that	my	poetry	can	make	sense	in	the	context	of	“Western	thought”	and	culture	(Krupat,	2009,	p.	12).	For	example,	in	the	poem	below,	I	explain	in	a	footnote	why	“selling	fake	donkey	meat”	was	punished.	In	the	Chinese	poem,	a	gap	is	left	for	a	Chinese	reader	to	piece	together	the	whole	event.	The	context	in	the	Chinese	poem	suffices	to	have	a	Chinese	reader	understand	what	is	going	on,	especially	when	they	connect	the	third	and	the	fourth	lines.	The	third	line	is	talking	about	restaurants	in	Beijing	being	punished,	and	the	next	line	about	butchers	in	Hebei	province	still	buying	donkey	meat.	Here	the	adverb	“still”	(仍)	is	enough	for	a	Chinese	reader	to	get	what	the	restaurants	were	punished	for.	If	a	Chinese	reader	knows	the	event	described	in	the	Chinese	poem,	they	don’t	even	have	to	read	through	my	poem	to	grasp	the	idea.	I	also	add		 57	“real	donkey	meat	is	expensive”	to	my	supplementary	text.	Without	this	phrase,	an	English	reader	may	be	puzzled	about	why	people	dared	sell	fake	donkey	meat	in	the	capital	city.	An	English	reader	doesn’t	consume	donkey	meat	and	doesn’t	know	the	cultural	significance	of	it.	Donkey	meat	is	thought	to	be	very	nutritious	and	precious	in	Chinese	culture.	And	a	donkey	grows	very	slowly.	Because	of	high	demand	and	short	supply,	some	people	gamble	and	try	their	fortune	at	selling	fake	donkey	meat.		享																																	Enjoyment		享客何须用果蔬						In	Vancouver,	I	don’t	treat	visitors	with	fruits	and	vegetables 	猪牛若土满街鱼					Pork	and	beef	are	as	cheap	as	earth	and	fish	are	on	sale	everywhere	京城食店多遭罚					In	Peiking,	many	restaurants	are	punished		直隶仍需贩肉驴					In	Zhili	province,	butchers	are	still	trying	to	buy	donkey	for	meat		Word	choices	in	translation	are	unconscious	and	can	be	based	on	“linguistic	and	cultural	values”	or	“sheer	personal	preference”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	32).	Venuti	understands	“the	absence	of	any	linguistic	or	stylistic	peculiarities”	to	be	a	reflection	of	“the	foreign	writer’s	personality	or	intention	or	the	essential	meaning	of	the	foreign	text”	(Venuti,	1995,	p.	1).	The	above	Chinese	poem	mentions	two	locations,	京城	(Peiking)	and	直隶	(Zhili).	These	are	the	obsolete	names	for	the	capital	city	Beijing	and	Hebei	province	respectively.	The	present	Hebei	province,	where	my	hometown	is	located,	was	part	of	Zhili	province	in	the	Ming	and	Qing	dynasties.	I	intentionally	use	the	archaic	denominations	to	produce	an	old-fashioned	aura.	It	is	also	a	decision	based	on	cultural	and	social	considerations.	In	the	Ming	and	Qing	dynasties	when	my	province	was	still	called	Zhili,	and	when	scholars	still	wrote	in	classical	Chinese,	my	family	was	safe,	respected,	and	prosperous.	Subconsciously,	I	yearn	for	the	good	old	days,	and	feel	nostalgic	when	I	compose	the	poem.	I	use	“archaism”	(Venuti,	1998,	p.	100)	to	express	my	paradoxical	feelings	toward	the	past	of	my	family	history.	I	explain	my	aesthetic	choices	and	decision-making	in	my	translation	so	as	to	enrich	the	dissertation	and	open	up	another	way	for	the	reader	to	understand	my	writing.		 58	In	the	above	English	translation,	I	add	the	location	Vancouver,	which	doesn’t	appear	in	the	Chinese	poem.	My	major	consideration	is	the	metrical	beauty	of	the	poetic	lines.	And	the	three	Chinese	characters	温哥华 for	Vancouver	are	too	long	for	a	short	rhymed	Chinese	poem.	I	have	to	leave	space	to	express	meaning	instead	of	pointing	out	my	location.	Actually,	I	don’t	have	to	mention	my	location	where	I	composed	the	Chinese	poem.	I	repeatedly	indicate	that	I	am	in	Vancouver	when	I	write	my	dissertation.	Poetic	Inquiry	is	a	systematic	application	of	poetry	in	research.	Without	specific	notes,	all	the	poems	in	this	dissertation	are	composed	in	Vancouver	where	I	carry	out	my	research.	In	my	English	translation,	I	want	to	give	the	reader	a	clearer	sense	of	what	the	first	two	lines	are	talking	about.	Also,	by	adding	Vancouver,	I	invite	my	readers	to	compare	the	different	situations	in	the	three	places.	When	I	shared	the	following	poem	“Silent	Contemplation”	with	my	teacher	back	in	China,	he	suggested	that	I	replace	“clear	autumn	(秋高)”	with	“deep	autumn	(秋深)”,	as	it	is	not	possible	to	see	the	sky	according	to	his	life	experience.	But	in	Vancouver,	it	is	typical	that	the	sky	is	clear.	It	is	also	normal	here	that	raindrops	fall	and	the	sky	is	clear.	Not	to	mention	ancient	times,	even	decades	ago,	most	Chinese	cities	were	not	polluted,	and	now	the	Chinese	government	is	making	efforts	to	regain	clear	skies	and	green	mountains.			静思																			Silent	Contemplation			秋高夜雨鸣					On	a	clear	autumn	night,	raindrops	are	blaring	蜡炬泪寒生					A	candle	cries	and	coldness	crops	up	墨卷忧欢浸					Test	papers	immerse	me	with	anxiety	or	laughter	诗肠寸管耕					My	poetic	intestines	are	quieted	by	the	writing	brush		On	a	summer	day	of	2013,	my	hometown	Shijiazhuang	witnessed	heavy	snow.	Some	local	people,	especially	those	who	are	superstitious,	associate	this	abnormal	weather	with	an	omen	of	bad	luck.	While	in	Calgary,	you	can	experience	all	the	seasons	in	one	day,	and	it	is	nothing	special	for	people	there.	A	poem	written	in	a	specific	location	and	time	may	not	be	readily	understandable	by	people	in	other	places	and	times.	Poetry	is	not	only	culturally,	but		 59	geographically	and	historically	significant,	so	we	communicate	by	contributing	to	“a	chorus	of	voices”	in	“a	crowd,	a	network,	a	collective,	a	community”	of	poets	(Leggo,	2019,	p.	x,	as	cited	in	Pinar).		Traditional	Chinese	artists	usually	leave	space	for	readers	to	guess	and	imagine.	Here	I	have	provided	a	glimpse	of	my	aesthetic	decision-making	process	for	my	readers	to	understand	my	writing.	I	invite	my	readers	to	explore	Chinese	and	English	cultures	in	their	favorite	ways	and	find	their	own	habitus.			 		 60													If	a	translator	imposes	a	rhythm	upon	the	text,	a	lexicon	or	a	syntax	that	does	not	originate	in	the	source	text	and	thus	substitutes	his	or	her	voice	for	that	of	the	author,	this	is	essentially	not	a	conscious	strategic	choice	but	an	effect	of	his	or	her	specific	habitus.		--Gouanvic,	2005,	p.	158				 		 61	Habitus		In	poetry,	I	travel	to	ancient	China,	I	return	to	modern	China		In	poetry,	I	live	my	ancestors’	lives,	I	live	my	own	life		In	poetry,	I	travel	to	the	U.S.,	I	travel	to	Canada		I	try	to	find	myself	In	poetry.					 		 62		Stanza	1					 		 63	春		春深波淼雾迷蒙	野树低垂岗上风	浩浩千年今又见	山狐田鼠笑孤鸿		Spring			Deep	spring,	rough	water,	and	opaque	fog,	Wild	trees	hang	low	in	the	wind	on	the	hill	A	thousand-year	history	sees	again	Mountain	foxes	and	field	mice	laughing	at	a	lonely	swan	goose4		 	                                                4	My	Chinese	poems	are	immediately	followed	by	their	translations.	However,	due	to	formatting	and	aesthetic	consideration	a	number	of	my	Chinese	poems	are	translated	on	the	following	page.	In	these	cases,	I	add	an	explanation	under	the	title	of	the	translation	saying	that	this	is	a	translation	of	the	above	Chinese	poem.		 64	A	lonely	swan	goose	appeared	in	classical	Chinese	poetry	as	a	representation	of	noble,	outstanding,	and	ambitious	people.	The	image	of	a	swan	goose	in	my	poem	at	the	beginning	of	this	chapter	is	to	express	my	respect	for	great	poets	of	the	past.	I	admired	their	mighty	words	composed	based	on	their	life	experiences.	After	reading	them,	I	enjoy	ordinary	life	more	than	anything	else.	I	take	poetry	as	a	way	to	alleviate	my	overwhelming	feelings	and	emotions,	and	as	a	magnetic	compass	guiding	me	toward	a	brighter	future.	I’m	a	poet	trying	to	find	my	way	in	the	complex	world.		I	enjoyed	poetry	by	feeling	it.	I	would	feel	the	texture	of	lined-up	words,	immerse	myself	in	all	the	wild	imaginations	of	words	with	musical	and	picturesque	backdrops	produced	in	my	mind.	I	would	form	vivid	scenes	in	my	head	when	I	tried	to	write	each	sentence.	I	aligned	words	the	way	I	liked	and	delineated	the	scenes	I	saw.	I	just	played	with	words	in	the	most	unadorned	way.	I	called	them	my	primitive	poems	in	a	simple	and	naïve	style.	“Poetry	is	the	most	intense,	most	highly	charged,	most	artful	and	complex	form	of	language	we	have”	(Grossman,	2010,	p.	93).	Grossman	tried	to	produce	similar	rhymes	and	meters	when	she	translated	Spanish	poetry	into	English.	Translating	poems,	Pound	also	made	attempts	at	“recontextualization”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	81).	But,	even	Pound	himself	realized	that	recontextualization	didn’t	fit	exactly	and	was	not	accepted	by	every	reader.	When	I	read	Pound’s	English	poems	translated	from	classical	Chinese	poems,	I	could	barely	recognize	which	Chinese	poems	he	had	translated.	When	I	read	other	translated	Chinese	poems,	I	couldn’t	find	their	Chinese	counterparts	either.	My	peer	Chinese	scholars	have	the	same	feeling.	In	translation,	something	always	gets	lost.	Pound	produced	rhyme	schemes	that	are	acceptable	in	English,	but	the	poetic	effect	is	not	an	equivalent	to	Chinese	poems	at	all,	especially	for	Chinese	readers.	This	is	an	inevitable	consequence	of	the	fundamental	differences	of	the	two	languages.	For	example,	Chinese	characters	have	tones	for	themselves,	while	English	words	don’t.	Chinese	characters	don’t	have	stress,	while	English	words	have.	Trying	to	create	some	poetic	effects	in	English,	a	translator	always	has	to	add	extra	words,	and	to	use	different	meters	and	dictions	from	those	of	the	original	text	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	87).	This	attempt	is	readily	criticized.		An	alternative	and	common	practice	in	Chinese	and	English	poetry	translation	is	to	focus	on	meaning.	Translating	my	own	traditional	Chinese	poems,	I	didn’t	try	to	produce	similar		 65	poetic	effects	in	English.	I	focused	on	translating	meaning.	The	Chinese	characters	themselves	are	foreign	enough	for	English	readers.	If	my	translated	poetry	can	pique	their	curiosity,	then	they	might	begin	to	learn	Chinese	characters	and	then	Chinese	culture.	I	write	and	translate	not	to	fight,	but	to	console	myself,	and	set	an	example	for	other	people	to	take	writing	as	a	way	of	living.	I	write	poems	to	reconstitute	my	world	as	poetry	accommodates	blurriness.	I	write	poems	to	avoid	political	and	cultural	conflicts.	I	write	poetry	for	me	to	dare	face	the	unspeakable	past.	When	there	is	something	wrong	in	our	lives,	it	is	easy	to	criticize	others	or	the	circumstances.	The	outside	world	affects	us,	to	some	degree,	but	cannot	define	and	confine	our	lives.	We	control	our	own	thoughts	and	reactions	to	things	that	happened	to	us.	It	is	more	rewarding	and	valuable	if	I	focus	on	my	(re)interpretation	of	the	outside	world,	and	on	correcting	the	things	that	went	wrong	in	my	life.	I	write	to	discover	aspects	of	my	family	members	and	me	that	need	further	improvement.	I’m	an	“imperfect”	human	being,	aiming	to	live	well	“in	the	world”	(MacKenzie-Dawson,	2018,	para.	5).	I	reinterpret	and	rewrite	my	family	history	for	a	better	future.	 		 66	梦  冷雨 滑落 撕裂清朗的面颊 太息 凝固在 渺茫的心房  萤窗 蓦然 画出你的身影  凝眸 却 打碎了 迷乱的梦 	 		 67	Dream		Cold	rain	Rolls	down	Tearing		my	bright	cheeks	A	sigh	Solidified	In	my	vague	heart		Firefly-illuminated	window	Suddenly	Outlines	your	silhouette		My	disorderly	dream	Begins	To		Break	Into	morning5			--To	my	father	 	                                                5	This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	the	Chinese	poem	on	the	previous	page.		 68		Sometimes,	I	would	look	around	the	environment	and	search	for	some	interesting,	yet	unobtrusive	things	that	I	usually	ignored	in	my	daily	busyness.	I	tidy	up	my	thoughts,	combing	through	all	the	memories	and	events	that	happened	to	me,	and	finding	reasonable	explanations	and	excuses	for	me	to	feel	at	ease.	In	such	a	process	of	exploring	the	outer	world	and	examining	my	inner	self,	I	come	up	with	poetic	lines.	Poetry	is	an	effective	way	to	dig	into	the	deepest	part	of	myself.		I	try	to	write	as	many	poems	as	possible	about	spring	as	a	tribute	to	ancient	Chinese	poets.	They	usually	carried	out	similar	activities	as	pastime.	With	borrowed	images	from	classical	Chinese	poems,	I	seemed	to	travel	back	to	the	age	when	poetry	was	an	inseparable	part	of	scholarly	life.	Poetry	and	nature	are	a	peaceful	and	quiet	haven	for	me.			寻幽		月夜乌啼风瑟瑟	山花初放隐蒿蓬	桑榆萝径寻幽处	蕙草禅宫若一梦		Seeking	Seclusion		In	moonlight,	the	crow	caws	and	the	wind	sighs,	Mountain	flowers	just	appear	in	the	wild	grass.	On	a	trail	flanked	with	vine-decorated	mulberries	and	elms,	I	search	for	a	secluded	place,	Fragrant	plants	at	a	monastery	fill	my	senses	like	a	dream.		The	above	Chinese	poem	is	rhymed	and	rhythmed,	and	the	word	choices	are	generally	literary	Chinese.	We	don’t	say 蒿蓬	and	禅宫	in	modern	Chinese.	I	used	these	classical	Chinese		 69	words,	as	well	as	the	classical	Chinese	poetry	form	to	create	an	imaginary	scene.	In	such	an	imagined	world,	I	indulge	in	the	sheer	beauty	of	nature,	and	comfort	myself	accordingly.	When	I	translated	the	Chinese	poem	into	English,	I	bore	Benjamin’s	words	in	mind	“no	translation	would	be	possible	if,	in	accord	with	its	ultimate	essence,	it	was	to	strive	for	similarity	to	the	original”	(Benjamin,	1997,	p.	155).	I	appreciate	the	understanding	of	“task”	not	as	“duty”	or	“responsibility”,	but	as	searching	for	“a	solution	within	the	domain	of	language”	(Berman,	Berman,	&	Sommella,	2018,	p.	43).	I	asked	my	intention	of	writing	and	translating.	I	was	not	trying	to	bind	myself	with	more	doctrines.	In	writing,	a	globally	recognized	human	right,	I’m	not	interested	to	curb	my	free	will,	although	I	definitely	confine	my	writing	to	my	own	life.	In	my	pursuit	of	freedom	in	language,	I	also	noticed	the	importance	of	“fidelity	in	translating”	(Benjamin,	1997,	p.	160),	and	I	agree	with	Benjamin	that	English	words	“can	almost	never	fully	render	the	meaning	it	has	in	the	original”	(Benjamin,	1997,	p.	160).	Benjamin	thought	the	original	meaning	is	“fully	realized	in	accord	with	its	poetic	significance	for	the	original	work	not	in	the	intended	object,	but	rather	precisely	in	the	way	the	intended	object	is	bound	up	with	the	mode	of	intention	in	a	particular	word.	It	is	customary	to	express	this	by	saying	that	words	carry	emotional	connotations”	(Benjamin,	1997,	p.	160-161).	Also,	a	language	has	its	long-established	cultural,	societal,	ideological,	psychological	and	literary	tradition.	This	tradition	cannot	be	translated	to	its	full	potential,	or	even	may	not	be	accepted	by	readers	from	another	culture.	In	this	situation,	I	don’t	cheat	my	English	readers	by	offering	a	wrong	interpretation	of	Chinese	culture.	I	try	to	avoid	the	controversial	cultural	backgrounds.		 		 70		Rose		When	I	visit	a	lane	In	vernal	rain	I	behold	A	rose	Her	robe’s	Loose	petals	have	a	look	special			 		 71	Sparrow		Angry	Noisy	birdie	Swims	in	the	sky	Like	a	sharp	arrow	fly	Straight	Into	my	heart’s	hollow	Make	my	body	bow	In	front	of	you	Oh,	you						 		 72	Willow	Catkins		Slim	fairies	Dance	with	wind’s		Rhythm		Angels	Calling	for	life.		But	we	frown,	“Willow	catkins		are	dirty	in	water.”		 		 73	Maple	Leaves		Not	far	away	Maple	leaves	drip	With	dew’s	music		In	autumn’s	haze		A	small	girl	launched	A	little	boat		On	the	great	river		Her	heart	flowed	away		In	its	V	trail		 		 74	Yellow			An	almighty	painter		Dabs	the	landscape		With		Dandelion	dots	From		The	realm	of	gold.		They	murmur,	“Breeze,	please	be	gentle,	I’m	still	growing,	And	am	not	dried	On	the	canvas		Yet.”	 		 75											A	thing	of	beauty	is	a	joy	for	ever		--John	Keats	(1888,	p.	7)					 		 76	花		夙夜春雨急	风啸引鸥啼	卷帘半推窗	花若洪流宕		Flowers		Vernal	rain	falls	incessantly,	Gull	squawks	as	the	wind	howls.	I	roll	up	the	curtain,	open	the	window	half-way,	See	a	torrent	of	flowers	flooding.			 		 77	美是春天的候鸟  一树树樱花 用翻飞的清香 铺满你的心头  蒲公英 把鲜嫩的金黄 任意泼洒  草地最是轻柔 扇动翠绿的翅膀 在温哥华 每条小巷  美是春天的候鸟 (Wu, 2017a, p. 159)   	 78	Migratory	Bird	in	Spring		Cherry	blossoms’	Faint	fragrance		Drifts	and	settles		On	your	heart		Fresh,	tender,		Dandelions	Scatter	arbitrarily		Soft	grass	lawns	Flutter	their	verdant	wings	In	the	gardens	Of	Vancouver		Each	petal	applauds	The	migratory	bird	in	spring6			 	                                                6	This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	on	the	previous	page.		 79	春		寒云方去邈庭梧	陋巷芭蕉桂树孤	百啭春莺迎客至	山青水碧乐浅湖		Spring		Cold	clouds	just	left,	the	phoenix	tree	in	my	yard	seems	taller		In	my	shabby	alley	only	a	plantain	and	a	sweet	olive	spike	up	The	tweeting	vernal	warblers,	welcoming	my	guest	In	blue	mountains	and	green	water,	we	enjoy	the	shallow	lakes			 		 80	Hearing	the	Verdant	Steps	of	Spring		Frogs	crawl	out	from	mud	holes	Their	unseasoned	yet	familiar	tones	croak	out	their	primitive	Music.		Schools	of	fish	Raise	their	shimmering	heads	from	water’s	surface	To	produce	Ripples	Of	blossoming	bubbles		Lotuses	vie	To	pierce	the	silence	Without	trumpet		 		 81	In	ancient	times,	Chinese	poets	introduced	the	image	of	a	lonely	person	lingering	at	the	window.	Staying	at	the	window	can	be	an	alleviation	of	the	person’s	loneliness	and	expectations.	On	the	other	hand,	some	other	poets	depicted	a	lonely	person’s	lamentation	over	the	scene	outside	the	window,	and	thought	this	could	aggravate	one’s	bad	feelings.	Both	explanations	make	sense,	and	I	prefer	the	latter	one,	so	I	don’t	approach	the	window	when	I’m	not	in	high	spirits.		忆江南		鸥声断,清梦客无言。心意冷诗情索淡,诉衷肠意乱歌狂。只影莫凭轩。		To	the	Tune	of	Yi	Jiang	Nan			The	sound	of	seagulls	stops.	I	awake	from	my	sweet	dream,	wordless.	Disheartened,	I	have	no	interest	in	writing	poetry.	I	try	to	express	my	feelings	by	chanting	self-indulgently.	When	I’m	alone,	I	don’t	linger	at	the	window.			 		 82	Stanza	2									 		 83	秋		细雨红枫醉晚霞	秋风杨柳戏残花	登高怅望南飞雁	碧落迢迢刺海涯		Autumn			Raindrops	and	red	maple	leaves,	intoxicated	by	the	sunset	glow,	Autumn	wind	and	willows	play	with	withered	flowers.	I	climb	high,	gazing	melancholically	at	the	south-flying	geese,	Seeing	the	endless	sky	meet	the	coastline.	 	 		 84	Autumn	has	a	binary	connotation	in	Chinese	worldview.	It	represents	mellow	fruitfulness	and	augurs	the	past	of	the	best	time.	The	lamentation	on	the	sad	side	of	autumn	is	plentiful	in	Chinese	literary	works.	Chinese	scholars,	especially	the	pessimistic,	tend	to	link	autumn	with	the	elapse	of	the	best	years	of	their	lives.		For	instance,	Du	Fu,	the	genius	Tang	poet,	wrote	eight	poems	inspired	by	autumn,	each	of	which	was	enshrouded	in	a	sad	tone	and	atmosphere,	and	his	worry	about	his	country.	Ascribing	a	scholar’s	emotional	vulnerability	to	changing	weather	is	not	uncommon.		I	thought	I	was	already	immune	to	emotional	stimuli,	but	an	ordinary	scene	on	a	grey	afternoon	engendered	my	thoughtful	forlornness.	After	a	long	walk	from	a	lecture	on	ancient	Chinese	poetry	at	the	Buchanan	Building,	I	performed	my	duty	as	a	graduate	assistant	by	sitting	in	an	office	located	in	the	basement	of	another	building,	which	few	students	visited	during	this	gloomy	afternoon.	I’d	just	finished	a	book	on	Romanticism	and	had	no	other	book	to	read.	Having	nothing	to	do	means	having	nothing	to	feed	the	running	machine	of	my	mind.	My	vacuum	mind	invited	a	hollow	heart.	Loneliness	seemed	present	in	every	oxygen	atom	I	inhaled.	The	exhaust	fan	was	the	only	audible	object	that	accompanied	my	loneliness.	With	the	humdrum	sound,	my	thoughts	flew	back	to	the	time	when	I	arrived	in	Vancouver.	When	my	plane	circled	above	Vancouver,	I	was	amazed	at	the	beauty	of	the	sea.	My	parents	took	me	to	a	sea	when	I	was	a	child,	but	I	never	saw	such	blueness	from	above.	It	reminded	me	of	Mona	Lisa,	and	of	her	mysterious	and	charming	smile.	Getting	off	the	plane,	I	was	a	little	disappointed	at	the	withered	grass.	In	my	mind,	I	compared	the	city	with	the	verdure	of	Kentucky	where	I	enjoyed	a	visual	feast	for	a	whole	year.	How	could	grass	turn	yellow	in	early	autumn!	Then	I	muttered	a	“wow.”	The	weather	was	very	mild	and	humid.	I	left	the	airport,	lamenting	about	the	sausage	and	pork	that	were	slipped	into	my	backpack	by	my	mother	and	confiscated	by	a	customs	officer	in	the	Vancouver	airport.		I	remembered	mother	again.	My	mother	succeeded	her	father	and	worked	in	the	subsidiary	factory	of	the	teacher’s	school	in	my	county.	My	maternal	grandfather	was	a	master	craftsman	in	the	industry	and	brought	all	the	skills	and	knowledge	the	factory	needed	when	it	was	being	built.	In	exchange,	the	headmaster	of	the	school,	an	old	friend	of	my	maternal	grandfather,	promised	to	help	one	of	my	maternal	grandfather’s	children	secure	an	official		 85	position	in	the	factory.	However,	after	the	factory	was	running	smoothly,	the	headmaster	only	had	my	mother	work	under	contract.	The	explanation	for	his	changed	mind	was	that	he	wanted	to	help	a	boy	of	my	maternal	grandfather’s,	but	my	maternal	grandfather	asked	my	mother	to	work	for	the	factory.	A	government	employee	wouldn’t	worry	about	benefits,	promotions,	or	lay-offs,	while	at	that	time,	a	contract	worker’s	future	depended	on	the	economic	performance	of	the	factory.	It	seemed	that	my	maternal	grandfather	was	cheated,	but	actually	it	was	a	matter	of	gaining	insight	about	people	and	the	world.	My	maternal	grandfather’s	parents	were	also	farmers.	For	generations,	farmers	didn’t	need	to	deal	with	all	kinds	of	people	on	farm	land.	A	piece	of	land	is	a	small,	closed	society.	Farmers	harvest	what	they	have	sowed.	My	familial	tradition	of	being	honest	and	credulous	was	cultivated	duly.	When	the	outside	world	changed,	we	didn’t	learn	the	ability	to	understand	it	quickly.	Another	reason	might	be	that	my	maternal	grandfather	didn’t	do	exactly	what	his	old	friend	asked.	My	grandfather	thought	a	girl	was	the	same	as	a	boy,	but	his	friend	didn’t	react	the	way	he	and	his	daughter	expected.		 		 86	When	I	was	at	home,	I	liked	to	visit	the	biggest	park	in	my	hometown.	The	artificial	lake	in	the	park	used	to	be	a	resort	for	me	to	practice	fishing.	My	mother’s	call	from	home	was	the	only	order	that	I	couldn’t	refuse,	as	I	knew	a	sumptuous	dinner	was	ready.	When	I’m	in	other	cities,	my	mother	would	sit	beside	an	elm	in	the	park	and	watch	magpies	nesting.	The	bird	is	a	symbol	of	happy	omen	in	Chinese	culture.	She	said	she	hoped	the	magpies	would	bring	her	good	news	from	me.		慈母		喜鹊勤衔枝	构巢累数日	慈母倚树望	游子何时归		An	Affectionate	Mother		Diligent	magpie	brings	twigs	to	her	nest	She	commits	many	days	to	her	building		An	affectionate	mother	leans	against	a	tree,	observing	Wondering	when	her	son	will	return	home		 		 87	美		明月寒英惹蕙心	青州从事相与饮	柔荑拨开流苏密	琴瑟丹青赋弹棋		A	Beauty		Bright	moon	and	plum	blossoms	grace	her	chaste	heart	I	drink	fine	wine	with	her	Her	white	and	tender	fingers	push	away	the	dense	tassels	As	she	plays	zither,	draws	pictures,	and	writes	poems	about	our	chess	game			 		 88	My	mother	looks	nothing	like	the	description	in	the	second	poem,	but	her	virtue	is	much	more	laudable.	She	is	not	the	kind	of	person	who	knows	her	rights	and	still	pushes	for	more.	Instead,	she	never	takes	advantage	of	her	rights,	but	concedes	any	of	her	belongings	for	the	benefit	of	the	family.		In	terms	of	diction,	I	intentionally	used	some	allusions	like	青州从事 and	literary	words	like	寒英	in	the	above	second	poem.	青州	is	a	location,	and	从事	the	name	of	an	official	position.	They	were	used	together	in	classical	Chinese	literature	to	refer	to	good	wine.	The	two	characters 寒	and 英 literally	mean	“cold”	and	“flower”	respectively.	In	poetic	language,	the	phrase	is	figuratively	used	to	refer	to	plum	blossoms,	which	bloom	in	cold	winter.	It	is	a	literary	tradition	that	a	poet	uses	classical	Chinese	to	write	traditional	Chinese	poems.	This	kind	of	word	choice	also	helps	me	create	a	poetic	world	that	is	aloof	from	the	real	world.	In	this	imagined	world,	I	can	stay	away	from	the	struggles	and	the	impurity	in	the	real	world.	I	meditate,	change	my	memory	of	the	past,	and	rewrite	my	past	stories.	I	first	translated	the	literary	Chinese	lines	into	modern	Chinese,	and	then	rewrote	them	into	English	free	verse.	For	the	same	reason	I’ve	explained	in	former	translations,	I	didn’t	try	to	create	poetic	devices	in	English.	I	focused	on	conveying	the	meanings	of	my	Chinese	poems,	and	the	cultural	background	embedded	in	the	poems.	A	Chinese	child	raised	in	the	traditional	way	is	supposed	to	fulfill	filial	duty	and	gain	fame	and	honor	for	the	family.	An	English	reader	may	take	some	Chinese	tradition	as	“new	concepts”	(Bassnett	&	Lefevere,	1995,	p.	vii).	But	Berman	called	for	respect	for	“the	differences	of	foreign	texts	and	cultures”	(1999,	p.	76	as	translated	cited	in	Venuti,	2013,	p.	186).	I’m	willing	to	withdraw	any	piece	if	it	is	not	acceptable	to	Canadian	culture,	and	I	write	to	better	myself,	and	people	around	me.	I	try	to	overcome	the	confines	and	limitations	of	languages	and	communicate	“the	universal	spirit,”	or	“the	human	spirit”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	118).		 		 89	风  无形, 无味, 的神物,  舔去朵朵积云 在水面跳飞 卷起柳树飘逸的发。  嬉闹 直到黄昏, 当黑暗沁入世间 才睡去。 (Wu, 2015k, p. 136)   	 90	Wind		Formless,	Odorless,	Wind’s	invisible	creature,		Licks	away	cumulus	clouds	Ricochets	across	water	In	ripples	Curls	willow’s	flowing	hair	With	hidden	fingers.		Wind	frolics		Until	dusk	falls,	And	sleeps		As	darkness	inks	the	world.7			 	                                                7	This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	on	the	previous	page.		 91	秋思  早秋, 蝉 有气无力地 嘶喊  汽笛声 长带似的 飘扬  零落的 露水 亲吻 微黄的 草尖 (Wu, 2015a, p. 90)   	 92	Cicada		Cicadas	Screech	Horn	sound	of	ships	Drifts	Early	autumn	Like	a	lost	vessel8			                                                  8 This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	on	the	previous	page.		 93	秋的味  你可曾品过 秋的味?  那柔柔的风儿 比春风更轻  那氤氲的云朵 可比夏天的云更忧愁。  你可曾品过 秋的味?  那挂满红叶的柿子树 再也招不来蝴蝶  那秋果诱来的松鼠 却异样地勤奋  你可曾品过 秋的味? (Wu, 2015i, pp. 66-67) 	 		 94		Mellow	Autumn		Have	you	ever	tasted		Mellow	autumn?		When	winds	are	softer		Than	spring’s	Fiercer	breath		When	dense	clouds	are		More	melancholy		Than	summer’s		Bright	shapes.		Have	you	ever	tasted		Mellow	autumn?		When	red	leaves	on	persimmon	trees	No	longer	allure	butterflies		Have	you	ever	tasted		Mellow	autumn?	When	fruits	attracted	diligent	squirrels?9			 	                                                9 This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	on	the	previous	page. 	 95	秋雨  秋风把浮云 弹成一曲夕阳箫鼓  浅唱低吟的雨滴 打落一地凄瑟  慵懒的午后 浅梦初醒  一杯淡茶 三两阙诗  寂寥 漠漠谁人诉! (Wu, 2015h, p. 67)   	 96	Rain		Harvest	winds	pluck	the	floating	clouds,	Making	music		At	sunset		The	pattering	raindrops	hum,	A	forlorn	leaf-song	That	falls	to	earth		Languid	in	the	afternoon	too,	I	wake	from	a	nap		I	feel	lonely	And	don’t	know	with	whom	I	can	talk.		Only	the	tea	light	And	a	poem10			                                                  10	This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	on	the	previous	page.		 97		悲秋		1	清夜枯荷滴玉露,	朝来候雁淋雨霜。	2	秋蝉哀吟菊花乱,	寒鸦凄唱秋草黄。		Sad	Autumn	(two	couplets)		1	In	the	silent	night,	jade-like	dew	bejewels	withered	lotus,		In	the	morning,	rain	and	frost	shower	swan	gooses.		2	Autumn	cicadas	sadly	chant	the	music	of	“Fallen	chrysanthemum	leaves”	11		While	cold	crow	miserably	sings	about	the	autumn	grass	turning	yellow.			 	                                                11 Fallen chrysanthemum leaves is a song written by Botao Wu. 		 98	秋风  秋风卷曲的发 触摸榆树的脉搏  喜鹊向着一片月啁啾 回应的却是琵琶的呜咽  异乡人 还记得家乡 飘荡的乡音么? (Wu, 2015b, p. 135)   	 99	Autumn	Wind		Magpies	twitter		To	a	slip	of	the	moon		In	response		To	a	Chinese	lute’s	whimper			A	man	far	away	from	home		Recalls	the	dialect	Wafted	from	his	hometown?12				                                                  12	This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	on	the	previous	page.		 100	Solitude		Dropping	petals		Usher	in		Maple’s	down-falling		Leaves		A	solitary	village	road		Winds	in	wind’s	rustles,	Pointing	to	My	clear	heart.		 		 101									The	monotone	of	the	rain	is	beautiful,	And	the	sudden	rise	and	the	slow	relapse	Of	the	long	multitudinous	rain.	--Carl	Sandburg	(1950,	p.	51)									 		 102	In	my	hometown,	rainy	days	are	rare	and	the	rain	falls	only	in	spring	and	summer.	Maybe	because	of	its	rarity	in	my	early	life,	rain	became	one	of	the	most	romantic	forms	of	weather	for	me.	I	took	raindrops	for	tears	of	the	sky.	On	a	rainy	day,	I	would	ramble	in	the	wild,	clean	my	head	and	make	it	a	receiver	for	signals	from	the	sky,	pondering	over	whatever	naturally	came	to	my	mind.	I	felt	purified	by	the	rain	and	was	inspired	poetically	by	it.	Here	in	Vancouver,	rain	is	not	a	luxury	anymore.	It	is	almost	a	daily	blessing.		Raincouver		Patter,	clatter,	spatter,	Rain	incessantly	falls.	in	Raincouver.		Don’t	worry,	It	seldom	pelts	down	But	ushers	in	God’s	serenade.	 		 103								Labor	well	the	Minute	Particulars,	attend	to	the	Little	ones	--William	Blake	(1904,	p.	64)												 		 104	Moon,	Pearl,	Tears		The	moon	is	the	sun’s	tears	Shed	toward	lonely	earth.		The	pearl	is	the	sea’s	tears	Condensed	into	an	orb.		Your	tears	Are	the	kisses	I	owed	you	In	our	past	lives.		 		 105	Stanza	3								 		 106	匪石		疏梅初月玉山寒	瘦马胡笳塞草残	匪石之心常解慰	立心于笔未成冠		Determination		Sparse	plum	blossoms,	crescent	moon,	gleam	on	a	cold	mountain	covered	with	snow,	A	lean	horse,	foreign	reed	pipe,	and	withered	grass	in	the	frontier.	I	ease	my	dedicated	mind	by	recalling	I’ve	longed	to	be	a	writer	since	childhood.			 		 107	I	decided	to	be	a	writer	when	I	was	a	child.	I	have	been	trying	to	organize	my	thoughts	and	my	life,	to	write	me	a	bright	future.	When	I	confined	myself	in	China,	I	didn’t	know	what	was	wrong	with	my	family.	My	ancestors	were	law-abiding	farmers.	According	to	oral	history,	my	ancestors	were	forced	to	move	to	my	current	village	about	a	thousand	years	ago	from	another	province.	Before	the	journey,	they	were	gathered	under	a	locust	tree	by	government	officers.	When	they	settled	down,	they	planted	a	locust	tree	in	their	new	village	as	a	monument	of	the	event.	Having	weathered	a	thousand	years	of	rains	and	winds,	the	locust	tree	now	is	hollow	in	the	middle,	but	it	still	shoots	up	new	sprigs	every	spring.	I	dream	of	it	from	time	to	time.	I	also	dream	of	the	military	knife	that	one	of	my	ancestors	left	in	the	village.	He	passed	the	Wuju	examination	(武举	military	official	test)	and	was	awarded	a	military	rank.	When	the	imperial	edict	was	delivered	to	his	house,	he	was	working	in	the	hog	lot	with	dirty	clothes.	He	asked	the	deliverer,	certainly	a	government	official,	to	go	to	the	other	side	of	the	village	to	find	the	correct	person.	When	the	deliverer	came	back	to	his	house,	he	had	already	changed	into	a	new	suit	of	clothes	and	was	sitting	upright	in	the	middle	of	the	living	room.	He	did	that	to	save	his	face	and	that	of	the	government.		Falling	into	mazes	of	memory,	I	came	upon	a	poem	about	mirrors.	Mirrors	are	accessible	to	everyone,	and	how	to	use	a	mirror	is	not	a	problem	for	an	adult.	But	when	I	felt	loss	from	my	proper	and	balanced	role	in	life,	I	needed	to	pick	up	and	remember	the	simplest	skills,	such	as	using	a	mirror.	A	journey	to	the	West	is	a	projection	of	my	East-born-and-bred	life	on	the	screen	of	the	West.			 		 108	Untitled		Hot,	hot,	hot,	Business,	money,	skyscrapers...		Rumble		Cool,	cool,	cool,	Blossoms,	mountains,	seashores...	Sparkle		From	one	side	of	a	mirror,	I	see	nothing	From	the	other	I	see	me.		 		 109	Writing		The	Muses	flutter	by	The	dell	In	a	vale,		Waving.		Their	sleeves	Mix	the	sky	And	the	earth.		Lovely	colors,	Frame	their	Charming	faces		Their	happy	laughter	And	clapping	Lead	me	to	pick	up	my	Quill.		 		 110	A	Hug		When	I	was	a	child,	Mother	used	to	ask	for	a	hug.		I	thought	it	was	nothing,	always	Hugged	her	insouciantly.			Then	in	aunt’s	family,	No	more	hugs.	I	tasted	Jane	Eyre’s	life.		A	lucky	thing	was		I	finally	went	back	home	To	enjoy	a	short		Happy	family	life.		Now	mother	doesn’t	ask		For	hugs	any	more,	I	get	used	to	an	adult’s	life		With	no	hugs.			 		 111	Leaves	Scion	Foliage	Withered	leaves	You	experience	your	life	Olivine	Green	Yellow	You	change	your	faces		Year	by	year	You	sacrifice	yourself	to	Enrich	the	annual	ring	--dedicated	to	all	scholars	(Wu,	2015e,	p.	51)		 		 112	诗之营养  卡路里 碳水化合物 糖 蛋白质 钠 纤维 维生素 A/B/C/D/E/K/H/P 钙 ……  注:切记 离世之后 归还皮囊 以获得 圣城车票。(Wu, 2016c, p. 151)   	 113	Nutrition	Facts	of	Poetry		Calories		Fat	Carbohydrate	Sugar	Protein	Sodium	Fiber	Vitamin	A/B/C/D/E/K/H/P	Calcium	...		Note:	please	remember	to	Return	the	container	After	your	existence	in	this	world	To	get	Your	ticket	to	the	holy	domain.13			                                                  13 This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	诗之营养	on	the	previous	page.			 114	Poetic	Nest		You	fall	into	the	secular	world	With	footsteps	of	growth	Painstakingly	measuring		Innocence’s	escape.		You	limp	in	the	mundane	world	Sighing	Reminiscence	Of	the	lost	holy	temple.		Destiny	Bestows		A	poetic	nest	Upon	you,		A	commiserative	corner	A	flashing	second.		You	can	breathe	Sedately	And	forget	Life’s	poundings.			 		 115	Mosses		Fluffy									Celadon															Mosses																						Climb																													Up																																	The	trunk,	F		e				a							r	Not	Of		A	Slippery		F		a				l	l.		Mosses	creep	up	the	trunk	silently.	I	silently	increase	my	knowledge	in	different	disciplines.	Rhizomatic	growth	is	likened	to	be	a	“strawberry	plant”	by	Leggo	(as	cited	in	Vincent,	2018,	p.	52).	I	can	visualize	the	scene	in	my	mind.	I	appreciate	the	spirit	of	dogged	efforts	and	endless	expanding.	It	is	a	spirit	shared	by	plants	and	humans.		 116		Photograph	2.	Digital	Photograph	taken	in	East	Vancouver	on	March	8,	2016.	A	tree	trunk	with	moss	that	inspired	my	poem	above.		 		 117			Photograph	3.	Digital	photograph	taken	by	Botao	Wu	in	Vancouver	on	April	3,	2016.			The	Burrard	Bridge	with	sailing	ships	inspired	my	following	poem.	When	I	visited	Granville	Island,	I	saw	some	boats	upside	down	in	the	water.	My	imagination	fled	to	scenes	of	shipwrecks.	A	Chinese	saying	goes	that	if	you	are	careful	enough,	you	can	travel	by	boat	safely	for	thousands	of	years.	Yet,	we	still	have	lots	of	recorded	and	unrecorded	shipwrecks.	Floating	boat	is	beautiful	in	its	full	functioning,	and	a	wrecked	boat	is	also	worth	attention.	 		 118	A	Shipwreck		Ship	Traumata	Kisses	Your	bent	back.		The	briny	sea	Bathes	Remnants	Of	your	ragged	sail.		You	used	to	ride	the	wind	and	waves,	Now	you	are	beached	companion	of	storm	and	sand.		 		 119	Hitches	in	Life		Yo	Ho	Ho	Hei,	14	Sometimes	you	shamble,	Sometimes	you	stumble,	Sometimes	you	crumble.		Yo	Ho	Ho	Hei,	Sometimes	you	ramble,	Sometimes	you	fumble,	Sometimes	you	bumble.		Yo	Ho	Ho	Hei,	Sometimes	you	gamble.	Sometimes	you	grumble,	Sometimes	you	tumble.		But	life	always	ambles		With	hitches.		 	                                                14 Yo	Ho	Ho	Hei	is	a	chant	of	river	trackers	in	ancient	China.	River	trackers	are	people	who	pull	a	boat	on	the	shore	to	make	it	travel	in	the	river.	I	borrow	it	here	to	represent	the	arduous	tread	in	our	lives.		 120	忆江南		鸥声断,清梦客无言。心意冷深秋索淡,捣香筛辣置金樽,影只莫凭轩。		To	the	Tune	of	Yi	Jiang	Nan			The	sound	of	seagulls	stops,	I	awake	from	my	sweet	dream,	wordless.	Disheartened,	I	feel	the	deep	autumn	is	insipid,	so	I	cook	savory	and	spicy	foods	and	fill	my	golden	goblet,	and	since	I’m	alone,	I	don’t	linger	at	the	window.		 		 121	Stanza	4										 		 122	懈		赤日高悬美梦醇	诗书懒读久为尘	遑遑鱼蠹周公斥	懈倦无忘万木春		Laziness		The	red	sun	hanging	high,	my	beautiful	dream	mellowing	I’m	lazy	about	reading	poems,	so	my	books	are	covered	with	dust	Bookworms	rush,	and	the	god	of	dream	chides:		Indulging	in	indolence,	you	cannot	ignore	other	scholars	are	improving	like	trees	growing	in	spring		 		 123	My	poetic	inquiry	is	a	spiral	and	upward	endeavour	to	gain	more	knowledge	and	become	more	mature	in	character	and	more	versatile	and	proficient	in	abilities.	The	aim	is	glamorous	and	glorious,	but	the	road	toward	it	is	slippery.	I	slither,	drop,	give	in,	rest,	and	regain	courage	and	momentum.	Sometimes,	I’m	distracted	from	my	main	duty,	namely	reading	and	writing,	and	pay	attention	to	distractions	(Clarke,	2012,	p.	53).	I	indulge	in	distraction	and	retrospection,	and	learn	lessons	from	them.	Similar	to	the	nature	of	my	poetic	inquiry,	I	remembered	a	story	of	eating	meat.		My	father	liked	meat	and	fed	his	employees	with	all	kinds	of	meat	when	they	drove	my	father’s	combine	harvester	to	harvest	wheat	for	farmers.	These	people	were	very	satisfied	for	the	first	few	days,	as	meat	was	not	in	daily	supply	at	that	time.	Then	they	would	be	turned	away	by	the	smell	of	meat	and	begged	for	fruits	and	vegetables.	I	like	meat	and	I	like	literature.	But	reading	poems	and	novels	every	day	was	really	challenging,	and	sometimes	nauseating.	Later,	I	was	able	to	persuade	myself	to	keep	reading	and	writing	after	I	recalled	my	father’s	advice	on	how	to	hoe	a	whole	acre	of	land	by	hand.	He	said:	“just	keep	doing	it,	and	when	it	is	done,	it	is	done.”		 		 124			Night		Goldfish	strikes	Water	Gently		Making	Golden		Bubbles—		Alas,	my	wavy	heart	Is	already	flooded	with	tears		 		 125	倦怠  阳光懒懒地在草坪上溜达 风把枯叶聚拢在一起 广告牌静静地站着 你, 坐在窗前 ----倦怠 (Wu, 2016b, p. 150) 	 		 126		Ennui		Sun	languidly	lolls	on	the	lawn	Wind	rakes	together	dead	leaves	Billboard	stands	silently	by	the	pile	You,	Sit	listless	at	the	window--	ennui15			 	                                                15	This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	倦怠	on	the	previous	page.		 127	Blank		A	firm	friend	You	visited	me			Treated	me	like	a	bosom	pal	I	just	responded	noncommittally,	Not	sure	of	your	intention.		Boredom,	you	came	to	my	dome	Whistling,	wooing,	whittling	away	My	spare	time.		Go	find	another	groom.	 		 128	Modernity	and	technology	have	improved	human	lives,	and	caused	homogeneity	in	many	aspects	of	life.	People	now	are	using	the	same	computer	systems,	visiting	the	same	websites,	buying	the	same	brands	of	clothes,	food	and	drink,	doing	the	same	routines	of	work,	and	greeting	each	other	the	same	way.	Life	is	becoming	homogeneous.	We	need	creativity	and	idiosyncrasy.		Faceless.		I	share	expressions		With	Instagram	friends	In	Canada,	And	similar	things		By	Wechat	In	China.		I	go	to	school,	Learning	standard	English	In	Canada,	And	Mandarin	In	China.		I	go	to	work	Under	ISO9001	quality	management	Both	in	Canada	And	in	China.		I	go	shopping	And	buy	clothes	That	are	designed		 129	For	people	of	my	age	and	size.		I	walk	in	the	streets	of	Vancouver,	Where	the	skyscrapers	are	As	tall	and	square	as	those	in	Beijing.		I	am	Standardized,	Stylized,	Systemized,	...		I	am	a	stereotype,	My	face	as	deadpan	As	all	the	others.		 		 130	Swimming		Womb	The	warmest	Swim-place		I’ve	ever	lived.		Whenever	in	water	Again	I	feel	like	swimming	back	To	my	origin.		Where	is	my	origin?		 		 131	思念  对你的思念 像烟一样缥缈  袅袅上升 淡淡的融进晴空  碧蓝碧蓝的 好像从来没有发生过 什么故事  对你的思念 柔软, 却无缝不入 (Wu, 2015g, pp. 66-67)   	 132	Smoke		My	yearning	for	you	Is	intangible,	like		A	small	wisp	rising		It	lifts	continually	Till	it	blends	in	clear	sky		In	the	blue	space	Between	us	It	seems	nothing	has	ever	Happened		My	yearning	for	you	Is	gentle,	But	pervasive	as	A	smoldering	ember16				                                                  16 This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	思念	on	the	previous	page.			 133	Hollow		Soft	music	Caresses	My	badly	bruised	throat		My	heart	Was	already	A	sound,	Hollow	door	Swinging	slowly	shut.		Hollow	door	is	a	metaphor	for	becoming	a	disciple	of	a	certain	religion.	Here	I	mean	I’ve	found	my	belief	in	the	benevolence	of	poetry	and	language.	To	write	beautiful	English	articles,	I	challenge	myself	and	jump	through	hoops.	The	very	word	hoop	reminds	me	of	the	golden	hoop	in	the	novel	The	Journey	to	the	West	(Wu,	1980).	The	hero	of	the	book,	Monkey	King,	wore	the	golden	hoop	and	accompanied	his	master	to	overcome	81	setbacks	before	arriving	at	the	holy	temples	in	the	West.	The	golden	hoop	is	an	incarnation	of	holy	wishes,	and	a	tool	to	restrain	the	Monkey	King	from	disobeying	his	master’s	orders.	The	installation	of	the	hoop	is	necessary	to	ensure	the	powerful	monkey	can	fulfill	his	task.	After	they	arrived	at	their	destiny,	the	golden	hoop	disappeared	by	itself.	The	teachings	are	that	difficulties,	setbacks,	and	restrictions	are	not	people’s	dead-ends,	and	that	the	subsequent	success	is	the	good	wish	that	fate/god	arranged	for	us.	I’m	addicted	to	poetry	and	I	write	poems	to	change	my	memories	with	something	positive	and	encouraging.	I’m	loyal	to	my	heart,	but	after	my	poems	are	composed,	my	next	job	is	to	make	changes	to	memories	that	linger	in	my	mind	and	write	about	them	in	a	brighter	and	more	hopeful	way.	I	have	lived	my	experiences	and	have	expressed	my	feelings	in	poetry.	And	that’s	it.		 		 134		Daybreak		Lingering	Fragrance	of	Earth’s	Scent		Day	breaks	With	the	sprouting	shadow	Of	Flowers	of	the	other	world		 		 135	Snow		The	moon		Slowly	Scatters	beams	Across	crystalline	snow		Pine	needles	elegantly	Suspended		Tiny	spots	of	White		I	drive	through	This	snowy	land	At	a	flake’s	pace		Leaving	Tinges	of	Regret	like	icicles	From	bare	branches		 		 136	Noiseless			Moon	light		On	window	lattice	A	silent	caress		Insects	in	grass,	Rustle	And	bustle		A	distant	whistle	of	horn--	Settles--	Night	turns	Even	more	silent	Since.		 		 137	Wind		Winter’s	windup	Ushers	In	winds	That	wind	through	Your	heart--	Leaving	whirling	footprints		 		 138	Nest		Above	ground	A	nest	Perched	high	on		Dead	twigs	and	withered	leaves	That	cannot	hide	its	Abjection		Dejected,	It	is	still	Pregnant	with	Hope’s	eggs		 		 139	静思		秋高夜雨鸣	蜡炬泪寒生17	墨卷忧欢浸	诗肠寸管耕		Silent	Contemplation			On	a	clear	autumn	night,	raindrops	are	blaring	A	candle	cries	and	coldness	crops	up	Test	papers	immerse	me	with	anxiety	or	laughter	My	poetic	intestines	are	quieted	by	the	writing	brush		 	                                                17 寒生 can	also	be	interpreted	as	a	poor	student.		 140		Tree		In	my	next	life	I	wish	to	be	a	tree,	Firmly	entrenched	in	one	place	Then	I’ll	push	my	leaves		To	open	the	sky		 		 141	Sand		On	a	noisy	beach	Sands	lie	silently		They	have	been		Resplendent	corals	in	the	deepest	sea	Once	they	were	down	by	Stormy	waves		Now	they	lie	quiet	Suffering	seagulls	strolling	And	supporting	children	stumbling		 		 142	Afternoon		A	brisk		Afternoon		Sunlight	warms,	Scattering	shafts		In	my	classroom		Maple	trees	lure		Singing	birds	back	To	their	branches--	While	my	girl	doesn’t		Come,	nor	answer	my	calls	to	her		Sadness		Exudes	from		My	sweat	pores		And	drops	all	over	the	ground		 		 143	温哥华的雨  温哥华的雨 迈着小碎步 从天上慢悠悠地走下  他们 跟每一个人 匆匆的行人 捉迷藏  他们潜入 人们的衣服 像不舍的老友  冬日风柔 草地依然绿 温哥华的雨 又至 (Wu, 2017c, p. 159)   	 144		Vancouver	Rain		Vancouver	rain	Scuttles	down		From	the	playful	sky		Raindrops	Play	hide	and	seek	With	every	rushing	passer-by		They	sneak	into	Clothes	Like	young	friends	reluctant	to	part		Gentle	winter	wind	Green	grassland	Vancouver	rain	Returns18				                                                  18 This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	温哥华的雨 on	the	previous	page. 	 145	夜		衰草坠露清	古巷送寒声	楼台萦远梦	星夜月胧明		Night		Transparent	dew	drops	from	withered	grass	Ancient	lanes	send	the	sounds	of	winter	A	tower	entangles	my	distant	dreams	On	a	starry	night,	the	moon	emits	dim	light		 		 146	Litheness		Like	a	feather	She	is	Lithe,		Drenched	In	moonlight		Immaculate	Crystal	clear		Like	the	sea	Under	the	beak	Of	a	seagull		She	disappears	Into	the	watery	Eternal	night		Like	the	silent	drop	of	a	feather		 		 147		Rainy	Season		Splitter	splatter	Raindrops	Declare	Their	historic	period.		Like	it	Or		Not,	You	cannot	avoid	falling	rain.		Why	not,	Let	it	be.		Under	dim	street	lights	You	can	walk,	Appreciate	Assorted	Styles	Of	life		At	your	wet	Leisure	Pace		 		 148	Snow	Sketch		Seagull	Claws--		White	snowflakes		Withered	grasses	Sway--		White	snowflakes		Fish	scales	on		Pine	bark	Bites--	White	snowflakes		Tilted	eaves	Groan	under	White	snowflakes		Thick	and	quiet	White	snowflakes		 		 149	苏幕遮		雨潇潇,风飒飒。古巷幽深,枫木梧桐杂。夜寂天清盘鹁鸽。欲寄衷肠,怅怅近情沓。	怨沉沉,愁溘溘。撇辣筛香,泼墨消焰蜡。影只斋寒空对榻。细语相思,默默无人答。	(Wu,	2017b,	p.	86)		To	the	Tune	of	Su	Mu	Zhe		The	rain	drizzles,	and	the	wind	rustles.	In	the	deep	ancient	alley,	there	are	maple	and	phoenix	trees.	The	night	is	silent	and	the	sky	is	clear.	Pigeons	are	circling.	I	want	to	say	the	words	from	my	heart,	but	I	feel	dispirited	by	life.	Grudges	are	concealed,	anxieties	flow.	I	cook	spicy	and	savory	foods.	I	write	with	a	writing	brush	while	the	candle	is	burning.	My	shadow	is	alone	and	the	room	is	cold,	and	I	sit	in	front	of	an	empty	couch.	I	murmur	in	lovesickness,	but	no	one	answers	me.			 		 150	Stanza	5				 		 151	享		享客何须用果蔬	猪牛若土满街鱼。	京城食店多遭罚	直隶仍需贩肉驴		Enjoyment		In	Vancouver,	I	don’t	treat	visitors	with	fruits	and	vegetables	Because	pork	and	beef	are	as	cheap	as	earth,	and	fish	are	on	sale	everywhere	But	in	Peking,	many	restaurants	are	punished19		And	in	Zhili	province,	butchers	are	still	trying	to	buy	donkey	for	meat		 	                                                19	Real	donkey	meat	is	expensive	in	China,	so	some	people	tried	to	make	and	sell	fake	donkey	meat.	The	last	two	lines	of	the	above	poem	are	about	a	news	report	that	the	Chinese	government	is	trying	to	crack	down	on	some	fake	meat	producers	and	sellers	in	Beijing	(Peking).		 152		For	Chinese	people	of	my	generation,	meat	was	more	expensive	than	fruits	and	vegetables.	In	China,	my	friends	and	many	other	people	call	a	dish	with	meat	Ying	Cai	(硬菜,	a	delicious	dish	with	meat	that	can	stay	in	your	stomach	for	a	longer	time	than	vegetables).	If	we	treat	friends	for	dinner	without	many	Ying	Cai,	it	generally	means	that	we	are	parsimonious	and	impolite.	But	here	in	Vancouver,	meats	are	of	similar	price	to	China,	while	vegetables	are	more	expensive	than	that	in	China.	So,	it	is	an	advantage	that	I	treat	friends	with	meat	in	Vancouver	to	express	my	hospitability.		Classical	Chinese	poetry,	including	Jue	Ju,	usually	deals	with	serious	issues.	The	diction,	images	and	topics	I	incorporate	in	this	poem	don’t	appear	frequently	in	classical	Chinese	poetry.	I	wrote	the	above	poem	to	depict	my	experiences	in	China	and	Canada	in	a	slightly	playful	tone.	 		 153	Renting	My	Home		After	the	excitement	of	arrival	and	some	sightseeing	in	the	city,	I	try	to	settle	down	and	to	find	a	home.	A	poet’s	dwelling	place	is	a	practical	problem.	As	a	foreigner	and	a	low-income	scholar,	I	finally	found	a	home	to	rent.	I’d	prefer	to	share	part	of	a	house	with	some	UBC	students	in	East	Vancouver	for	the	sake	of	safety,	comfort,	convenience,	and	low	cost.	It	is	quite	difficult	to	find	a	place	with	almost	everything	you	want	at	a	good	price.	Struggle	and	humiliation	are	the	nametags	of	finding	a	place	to	live	in	Vancouver.	Finding	a	living	space	is	a	constant	struggle.	You	have	to	invest	a	lot	of	time,	energy,	and	emotion	into	the	process.	You	search	websites	to	find	places	within	40	minutes	of	UBC,	and	you	search	ads	for	a	three	or	four-bedroom	apartment.	After	copying	down	all	the	possible	house	information,	you	begin	your	search.		You	contact	the	rental	homeowners	one	by	one.	First,	you	ask	them	to	describe	their	house,	and	inquire	the	rental	price	politely.	If	everything	seems	to	check	out,	you	finally	ask	rather	casually	whether	they	would	allow	you	to	share	the	apartment	with	schoolmates.	Some	say	definitely	no,	and	others	will	pause	to	think,	so	you	try	to	persuade	them.		“I	will	rent	your	apartment	for	at	least	three	years.	I	will	keep	it	tidy	and	clean.	I	will	provide	you	with	post-dated	checks.	I	will	do	the	gardening.”		It	is	a	skill	to	argue,	defend	your	position,	and	make	concessions	during	the	negotiations.	It	is	a	verbal	struggle	with	other	people,	and	a	mental	struggle	on	your	own	part,	since	you	have	to	persuade	yourself	before	you	can	persuade	others.	This	process	can	sometimes	be	humiliating.	Some	owners	answer	your	phone	calls	in	a	contemptuous	way.			“No,	no,	no,	I	don’t	want	students.	They	are	noisy,	lazy,	and	selfish.”			Others	say	bluntly	that	they	dislike	students,	especially	students	who	want	to	share	their	house.				 154	“I	don’t	want	many	students	to	squeeze	into	my	apartment.	I	want	it	tidy	and	clean	all	the	time.”		You	have	to	take	it	easy.	You	have	to	go	through	the	process.	As	the	deadline	for	moving	out	approaches,	you	have	to	invest	more	and	more	time,	energy	and	emotion	in	the	search	process.	You	see	happy	and	unhappy	faces.	They	pluck	at	the	strings	of	your	heart	and	you	ruminate	over	them,	only	to	forget	them	with	the	next	rental	search	visit.		Renting	a	Home		Dial	Greet	Introduce	Offer	Make	a	counteroffer	Hang	up.		Dial	Greet	Offer	Make	a	counteroffer	Hang	up.	...		A	process	similar	to	finding	a	nest	for	my	poems.		 		 155	Leeks	in	My	Backyard		Couldn’t	resist	The	hospitality		Of	Winter		They	took	off		Their	dark	green	Dresses		They	huddled	up	On	the	frozen	Ground		With	the	lullaby	sung	by	wind	They	fell	asleep	deeply		 		 156	中央公园		银钩牵挂的池塘	眨着明亮的眸子		盈盈秋水涤荡	落叶的离索		风雨无忧	摇曳湖畔的衰草		野鸭嘎然一声	隐去几多乡愁!	(Wu,	2015j,	p.	67)		 		 157	Central	Park	(A	translation	of	the	Chinese	poem	above)		The	crescent	moon	cares	about	the	pond	And	winks	its	bright	wink		A	sad	lady’s	eyes	wipe	out	The	loneliness	of	the	fallen	leaves		Light-hearted	wind	and	rain	Sway	the	fading	grass	by	the	lakeside		A	wild	goose	honks	And	hides	how	much	nostalgia?		 		 158	Umbrella		Cold	night,	Rain	curtain.		A	poem	in	the	ci	form	Can	hold	up	A	slice	of	clear	sky.		In	the	woe	of		Broken		Mountains	and	rivers,	In	a	yard	full	of	lichen,		In	a	pavilion	with	a	painted	blind,	I	wander		 		 159	Seagulls		Fly	up	and	down,	Above	the	dark	blue		Pacific	Ocean		They	weave	together		the	ocean	and	the	sky	To	make			A	vast	Silk	manuscript.	 		 160	I	wrote	the	following	poem	several	months	after	my	visit	to	Deer	Lake.	Upon	visiting	it,	I	was	deeply	touched	by	its	beauty,	an	indescribable	sylvan	beauty.	I	wanted	to	write	something	for	it,	but	couldn’t	do	it	until	I	heard	a	song	about	Lake	Baikal,	which	reminded	me	of	the	beauty	of	Deer	Lake.	Originally,	I	titled	the	poem	“Deer	Lake	Chant.”	But	I	finally	found	the	word	chant	involved	too	much	artificiality,	which	doesn’t	match	the	mood	of	the	lake.	I	think	the	name	itself	is	beautiful	enough	for	a	poem.	In	the	Chinese	version	of	my	poem,	the	first	words	in	all	stanzas	are	homophones,	and	I	use	these	words,	connoting	lightness	and	purity	respectively,	to	summarize	the	characters	of	the	lake.	Also,	the	last	words	of	all	stanzas	rhyme	with	the	sound	“an”,	which	means	peaceful	in	Chinese	as	an	independent	word.		I	didn’t	translate	my	Chinese	poem	into	a	rhymed	English	poem,	because	there	is	no	equivalent	for	it.	Even	if	I	had	figured	out	some	poetic	devices	and	squeezed	them	in	my	English	poem,	a	simple	criticism	can	be	that	I	have	changed	the	“shape”	of	the	Chinese	poem.	Translator	Beck	has	encountered	similar	criticism	for	adding	extra	words	in	his	translation	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	87).	My	decision	was	to	put	the	Chinese	and	English	poems	together,	showing	the	beautiful	shape	of	the	Chinese	concrete	poem,	and	explaining	the	poetic	devices	in	supplementary	texts.				 		 161	鹿湖		清幽。	草木葱茏,	是你的凝念。		清澈。	碧水潋滟,	是你的慕恋。		轻纤。	荷叶舒卷,	是你的韶颜。		轻灵。	木桥隐现,	是你的依伴。		轻盈。	鸽鸥嬉戏,	是你的眷盼。	(Wu,	2015c,	p.	90).		 		 162	Deer	Lake	(A	translation	of	the	Chinese	poem	above)		Quiet.	In	luxuriant	grass	and	trees	Lies	your	deep	thought.		Limpid.	In	over-flowing	water	Lies	your	clear	aspiration.		Fragile.	Rolling	lotus	leaves	are	Your	charming	appearance.		Dexterous.	An	indistinct	wood	bridge	Is	your	companion.		Elegant.	Frolicking	pigeons	and	seagulls	Are	your	nostalgia.		 		 163	Black	Moor		Raindrops	beat	the	pane	beyond	the	window	shade--	softly	the	blows	against	glass	have	already	shattered	them	into	small	pieces,	crystal-clear		Their	glittering	beauty	in	fearless	might--	What	do	they	want	to	penetrate?		A	gluttonous	black	moor	mistakes	the	crushed	raindrops	for	fresh,	in-season	fish	food		With	its	bulging	eyes	it	struggles	to	break	through	the	fish	tank	on	the	windowsill		 164		No	different	from	people	raising	their	eyes		toward	the	starry	night		Wishing	for	refreshed	vigor.	 		 165	The	last	day	of	a	feeder	fish			Photograph	4.	Digital	photograph	taken	on	April	14,	2017.	A	feeder	fish	bought	from	PetSmart.	The	fish	was	lethargic	when	it	came	to	this	tank.	A	somewhat	blurry	photo	is	used	to	show	the	fish’s	physical	and	sensory	condition.		I	am	drifting		in	a	tank,	only	for	me--	Where	I	shouldn’t	belong		I	am	resting,	exhaling		my	last	Breath	at	the	bottom	of	a	tank--	A	tank	only	for	me		 166	Ignoble		A	tank	is	a	luxury	for	a	feeder	fish	like	me	My	destiny	was	to	be	the	food	for	predators		I	should	have	died		like	my	brothers	and	sisters		In	the	mouth	of	predators		Long	time	ago		But	look	My	whole	body	is	crystal	white	as	those		noble	fish		The	only	stigma		Is	the	crimson	around	my	head,	not	as	round	on	top	As	the	noble	ones--	Only	this	difference		makes	me	a	feeder	fish		Although	as	crystal	clean	And	lively	And	lovely	As	the	noble	pets		...	...		 167	...		Photograph	5.	Digital	photo	taken	on	April	18,	2017,	before	the	feeder	fish	died.	The	photo	was	taken	out	of	focus	intentionally	as	a	part	of	the	artistic	endeavor.	As	it	was	dying,	its	senses	should	become	vaguer	and	vaguer,	and	a	blurry	photo	is	to	indicate	this	situation.		I	have	to	go	To	see	the	almighty	god(s)		Where	and	only	where		I	have	justice.		 		 168										Animal	world	is	the	human	world	in	miniature.		We	must	learn	many	skills	to	live	well	in	this	world.		If	our	mind	and	heart	are	numbed	in	the	human	world,		we	turn	to	the	natural	world	for	knowledge	and	redemption.			 		 169	绮罗香	山宿		绿意红情,枝头寂寞,怨燕雀黄鸪倏?	春日渐斜,斜照映掩疏竹。	玉参差,仙乐清韵,接寥廓,循声出谷。石苔翠,蛱蝶惊飞,傍幽泉葺屋过宿。		星陨林麓夺目。桦烛暗山陂邈,森森乔木。酒浊水清,叹粟粥胜粱肉。忽东风,拥覆重衾,已达晨,滴露如霂。独徘徊,错落莎径,莫怀恋福禄。		To	the	Tune	of	Qi	Luo	Xiang	Spending	a	night	in	mountains		Green	leaves,	red	flowers,	Lonely,	on	branches,	Did	they	blame	swallows,	sparrows,	partridges	for	flying	swiftly?	The	sun	moves	west,	Its	slanted	sunbeams	reflect	hidden	sparse	bamboos.	Jade	bamboo	flute’s	Immortal	music	and	clear	rhyme	Touch	the	vast	sky,	I	come	out	of	the	dale	following	the	sound.	Mosses	on	stones	are	green,	Big	butterflies	fly	off	in	alarm,	I	spend	the	night	in	a	thatched	house	by	a	deep	pool.		I	see	shining	meteors	drop	in	the	forest	The	fire	of	my	birch	candle	dies	and	mountain	slopes	turn	dark		Tall	trees	on	the	slope	look	dense	Unstrained	wine	and	pure	water		 170	I	lament	that	porridge	can	be	more	delicious	than	fancy	food	A	sudden	wisp	of	wind	I	cover	myself	with	layers	of	quilt	and	sleep	deeply.	It	is	morning,	I	feel	the	dew	sprinkle.	I	pace	up	and	down,	On	scattered	trails.	I	tell	myself	not	to	yearn	for	fortune	and	prosperity.	 	 		 171	Stanza	6						 		 172	祀		桥头陌路纸纷飞	祀祭年年日影微	两渡重洋心未已	匡扶正气命难违		Devotion		Burning	joss	paper	flying	on	the	field	road	at	the	bridgehead	Every	Tomb-Sweeping	day,	before	dark,	I	would	worship	my	ancestors		After	travelling	to	two	Western	countries,	I’m	still	aspiring	To	accomplish	my	destiny	by	promoting	righteousness		 		 173	Hometown	is	a	sweet	word	in	Chinese	culture,	and	more	than	half	of	the	Chinese	population	visit	the	place	where	they	were	born	during	the	Spring	Festival—the	time	for	visiting	hometowns.	But	to	me,	the	place	where	I	was	born	is	hard	to	return	to.	I’m	a	rootless	vine	that	tries	desperately	to	close	the	door	of	the	memory	of	past,	and	a	snail	that	carries	his	home	everywhere.	Oh,	no,	I’m	a	tadpole.	In	my	mind	flashes	a	scene	of	a	school	of	tadpoles	trying	to	find	their	mother.	They	met	a	fish	who	was	teaching	its	kids	to	find	food,	and	mistook	the	fish	as	their	mother	because	of	the	fish’s	tail.	Several	days	later,	when	they	grew	four	legs	they	mistook	a	turtle	as	their	mother.	Finally,	when	they	turned	into	frogs,	they	found	their	mother.	Chinese	students	of	my	generation	were	taught	the	short	story	in	our	elementary	schools	in	China.	In	my	mind’s	eye,	I’m	still	the	tadpole	searching	for	my	home.	Like	Qian	Zhongshu’s	(1974)	simile	of	a	besieged	city,	people	outside	a	city	think	life	inside	is	better	than	theirs,	and	vice	versa.	Similarly,	Westerners	say	people	think	the	grass	is	greener	on	the	other	side	of	the	fence.	We	think	that	going	far	away	is	romantic,	mystic	and	attractive.	But	actually,	our	daily	lives	are	valuable	in	themselves	and	are	as	charming	as	our	vain	dreams.	Poetry	and	the	other	side	of	the	fence	live	forever	in	our	hearts,	as	long	as	we	appreciate	our	common	lives	poetically	and	take	every	day	as	a	new	travel.	Enjoying	and	celebrating	my	ordinary	life	is	the	way	that	I	try	to	find	spiritual	consolation.	I	write	about	my	ordinary	life	to	reconstitute	my	life	and	to	express	my	regard	for	my	ancestors.	My	grandfather	was	a	simple,	kind	and	well-educated	farmer.	He	adhered	to	his	forefather’s	teaching:	you	harvest	what	you	sowed.	Frugal	and	abstemious,	he	saved	as	much	money	as	he	could.	Same	as	his	ancestors,	he	purchased	extra	land	from	those	who	led	extravagant	lives	they	couldn’t	afford	and	became	bankrupt.	My	grandfather	died	from	an	accident	in	the	field.	He	tried	to	fasten	the	rope	on	the	cart	filled	with	crops,	but	the	rope	broke.	He	fell	on	the	ground	and	broke	his	spine.		My	grandfather’s	accidental	death	was	fated	because	of	my	grandparents’	misconception	of	the	status	quo.	In	the	Ming	dynasty	(1368-1644),	travelling	to	the	sea	was	forbidden	by	law	so	as	to	protect	the	country	and	keep	peace	on	the	coastline.	But,	the	government’s	ban	forced	many	people	to	turn	into	bandits	(Xie,	the	Ming	dynasty).	The		 174	following	Qing	dynasty	(1644-1912)	followed	the	same	closed-door	policy	until	it	couldn’t	secure	its	safety	anymore.	For	hundreds	of	years,	China	tried	to	isolate	itself	from	the	world	and	encouraged	its	citizens	to	confine	themselves	to	their	agricultural	land.	In	my	grandfather’s	time,	Chinese	society	and	the	global	economy	had	changed	dramatically.	A	farmer’s	simple	and	stable	life	was	fragile	and	transient	in	a	tumultuous	society.	Yet,	my	grandfather’s	contemporary	teaching	was	that	a	good	man	didn’t	leave	home	to	serve	the	military	(Writing	Committee	of	the	Biography	of	Liu	Bocheng,	2007).	My	grandfather	didn’t	recognize	the	changes,	and	adhered	to	the	old	teaching	of	his	ancestors	and	that	of	the	mainstream	culture.		My	father	learned	many	skills	for	living	and	for	entertainment.	After	reading	some	relevant	books,	he	could	assemble	a	TV	set	from	scratch	singlehandedly	within	a	short	time.	He	made	many	TV	sets	for	village	people	when	TV	was	still	very	rare.	When	he	worked	at	his	desk,	I	used	to	climb	up	the	chair,	sitting	on	his	shoulder,	pulling	his	hair	and	pretending	to	ride	a	horse.	My	neighbor	happened	to	see	this	scene	and	commented	that	he	spoiled	me,	but	my	parents	never	scolded	me	for	playing	with	them.	My	father	was	a	self-educated	singer	and	harmonica	player,	too.	He	had	a	good	understanding	of	music	and	could	play	harmonica	the	moment	he	got	the	instrument.		My	father	also	learned	by	himself	to	drive	a	truck	and	transported	coal	from	a	mine	to	other	places.	He	used	to	work	together	with	his	elder	brother	as	a	truck	driver.	When	my	father	and	my	elder	uncle	travelled	to	some	dangerous	locations,	my	elder	uncle	would	ask	my	father	to	drive	and	he,	himself,	would	walk	on	foot.	The	reason	was	simply	that	he	had	to	live	for	his	family	members.	My	father	didn’t	like	quarrels	between	brothers,	so	he	did	what	he	could	do	at	work.	He	didn’t	report	this	to	my	grandmother,	as	he	knew	it	would	create	a	family	conflict.	He	told	his	wife	and	son	what	happened	on	the	road	and	tried	his	best	to	keep	a	good	relationship	with	his	brother.	A	truck	driver	was	a	much-favored	job	with	excellent	pay	at	that	time.	My	father	later	bought	his	own	truck,	and	soon	became	one	of	the	richest	people	in	my	hometown.	He	always	said	he	enjoyed	his	daily	work,	and	that	he	was	happy	as	long	as	he	was	able	to	work.			 175		Photograph	6.	Digital	photograph	taken	on	Fraser	street,	Vancouver,	B.C.	on	September	28,	2014.	A	vine	grown	on	a	gate	that	inspired	my	following	poem.			 		 176	故乡  为故乡植一株藤 让枝蔓的蒸腾 为她添上 五彩的云朵  为故乡除一棵草 让贫瘠的守望 多份 丰收的希望  我背着故乡的空壳 游走四方 每一次踏出家门 都载着 悲伤的过往 (Wu, 2015d, p. 136)   	 177	Hometown		Plant	a	vine	for	my	hometown,	The	stems	and	tendrils	Will	exude	watery	vapor	to	Form	a	colorful	cloud		Extirpate	weeds	for	my	hometown	The	infertile	expectation	Will	bear		Some	harvest		Shouldering	the	empty		shell	of	hometown,	I	wander	about.		Every	time	I	step	out	of	my	door,	I’m	loaded	With	sadness20			                                                  20 This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	故乡	on	the	previous	page.			 178		Language	is	tricky.	Sometimes,	I	write	in	Chinese	and	translate	my	poems	into	English,	and	vice	versa.	Other	times	I	write	only	in	Chinese	or	English	because	I	cannot	find	appropriate	words	in	another	language.	Also,	I	would	savour	the	meticulously	translated	parts	and	regret	other	parts	that	are	not	very	satisfying.	By	doing	this,	I	try	to	further	develop	my	understanding	of	both	languages.	Language	opens	up	the	world	for	me.	The	East	and	the	West	have	different	ways	of	living	and	doing	things.	Sometimes	the	differences	are	noteworthy.	The	other	day,	I	wrote	some	paragraphs	of	my	dissertation	and	then	went	out	for	midnight	snacks.	When	I	sat	in	front	of	Church’s	Chicken	at	41st	avenue	and	Fraser	street,	enjoying	chicken	legs,	I	raised	my	head	and	saw	a	cemetery	across	the	road.	Such	a	scene	usually	appears	in	Chinese	horror	stories.	I	joked	to	my	friend	in	China	that	Pu	Songling	(1640-1715),	who	wrote	a	book	of	ghost	stories,	would	be	mad	at	me.	Pu	collected	ghost	stories,	spreading	them	among	ordinary	people,	while	I,	myself,	was	experiencing	“ghost	stories”	without	letting	him	know.	But,	I	was	not	alone	there,	I	saw	some	other	Asian	faces	quietly	eating	their	food	and	even	a	Chinese	restaurant	on	the	other	side	of	the	graveyard.	Perhaps,	it	is	appropriate	to	say:	“this	is	exotic”	instead	of	taking	it	as	unacceptable.	Language	is	a	way	home.	When	I	grew	up,	I	lived	in	other	cities.	My	hometown	is	a	county	in	North	China,	where	my	ancestors	lived	for	hundreds	of	years.	I	feel	at	home	when	I	remember	the	porridge	that	my	mother	made	for	me,	and	the	fungus	peeping	from	a	piece	of	wood	at	a	corner	of	my	adobe	house	in	the	village.	It	was	fun	to	observe	ants,	net	cicadas,	and	dig	out	scorpions.	Harvesting	corn	by	hand	was	tiresome	labour	then,	but	a	sweet	memory	now.	Late	at	night,	I	would	turn	on	a	video	with	sounds	of	birds	chirping	and	creeks	flowing	and	fall	asleep	peacefully.	Physically,	I	couldn’t	visit	my	hometown	frequently	due	to	my	busy	life.	But,	I’m	a	stranger	in	cities	and	fly	back	to	my	hometown	in	dreams.	I	feel	at	home	in	my	poems.		 		 179	Crane		Appear	hereandthereinand	outof	the	clouds	Picture	1.	The	barely	visible	squares	integrated	in	the	poem	represent	the	sky	with	clouds.		Chinese	Daoism	(or	Taoism),	a	native	Chinese	religion	and	philosophy,	emphasizes	the	unity	of	human	beings	and	heaven,	and	worships	the	perfect	circle.	A	crane	is	a	sacred	and	mysterious	creature	worshipped	by	Daoist	practitioners.	In	Daoist	tradition,	an	immortal	usually	rides	a	crane.	The	bird	represents	longevity,	elegance,	aloofness	from	earthly	pursuit,	and	indifference	to	fame	and	benefit.	It	reminds	me	of	the	powerful	and	gallant	soldiers	who	fought	for	their	family,	their	nation,	and	lived	forever	in	the	heart	of	people	who	benefited	from	their	bravery.	In	terms	of	my	family	story,	my	father	is	the	soldier	who	sacrificed	for	the	benefit	of	the	whole	family.		 180		Photograph	7.	Digital	photograph	taken	on	51st	street,	East	Vancouver,	B.C.	on	October	16,	2014.	A	small	tree	with	flower	and	leaves	grown	on	the	branch	of	a	dead	tree	that	inspired	my	following	poem.		 		 181	I	enjoy	the	rain	in	Vancouver.	I	would	like	to	wander	like	a	cloud	whenever	I	have	spare	time.	On	a	Sunday,	after	doing	my	homework,	I	stepped	out,	hanging	out	in	my	neighborhood.	Suddenly,	I	saw	a	dead	tree	with	an	exuberant	small	tree	growing	on	its	branch.	What	a	stark	contrast.	After	a	close	examination	of	the	trees,	I	nicknamed	the	small	tree	as	the	dead	one’s	son.		A	Tree	and	Its	Son		“I’ve	already	ceased	to	be,	My	son.”	Tree	said,	“But	I	will	support	you	To	the	utmost	height	With	one	hand,	And	with	another,	I’ll	prop	up	the	sky.”		“Farewell	for	a	while,	my	son,”	Tree	said,	“Whenever	you	Miss	me,	Read	my	heart	held		in	the	clouds.”			“Farewell	for	a	while,	my	son,”	Tree	said,	“I	will	always	be			 182	In	the	other	idyllic	country,	Waiting	for	you.”		--To	my	father		 		 183	Untitled		Clear	sky,	like	water,	over	Remote	mountains,	like	splashes	of	ink	Both	look	at	my	city,	quietly.		On	a	dark	grey	tree		Warm	birds	are	celebrating		early	spring		Everything	is	delightful	The	only	thing	I	don’t	dare	think	of	Is	my	distant	Hometown		Hazy,	Barren		Crowded	Far-off		But	Hometown	Is	still	A	beautiful	Word.	 		 184	TV	Set		Father,	as	a	TV	technician,	said,	“You	cannot	make	a	TV	set	big	Without	parts	big	enough,	yet	a	big	TV	shows	the	same	as	a	small	one.”		I,	a	poet,	would	say,	“I	cannot	compose	a	poem	long	Without	contents	long	enough,	and	a	long	Poem	evokes	the	same	pleasure	as	a	short	one.”		 		 185	菩萨蛮		潇潇雨歇丹枫密,野狼麋鹿俱走逸。凝噎愁思漫,漫影知月寒。	一江水逆溢,岭上村萧瑟。已退食沉叹,叹沧海浚湍。		To	the	Tune	of	Pu	Sa	Man		Rain	stops	pattering	on	the	dense	red	maple	trees,	wild	wolves	and	elks	are	all	escaping.	An	urge	to	cry	chokes	me,	and	my	melancholy	overflows,	my	floating	shadow	should	know	the	coldness	of	the	moon.		River	water	is	flooding,	a	hamlet	on	a	mountain	ridge	is	desolate.	Resigned	my	post	as	an	officer,	I	sigh	deeply	that	the	sea	waves	are	too	rapid.		 		 186	Stanza	7								 		 187	不止		桥上车尘接翠空	乱蝉乌鹊聒梧桐	不知三月人依旧	长笛呜呜调未终		Non-stop		Vehicles	pass	the	bridge,	dust	rises	and	reaches	the	blue	sky	Cicadas	and	magpies	are	clamoring	in	phoenix	trees	They	aren’t	aware	that	in	the	third	month	of	this	year,	the	person	is	still	the	one	Who	plays	flute	with	lingering	sounds		 		 188	A	glance	at	the	imperial	families	in	Chinese	history	reveals	familial	conflicts	to	an	extreme	degree.	In	the	Han	dynasty,	empress	Lv	killed	her	husband	Liu	Bang’s	concubine	Qi	by	cutting	off	her	hands,	feet,	and	made	her	a	“human	pig”	(Sima	Qian,	1995,	p.	322).	In	the	Tang	dynasty,	the	emperor	Li	Shimin	murdered	his	two	brothers	to	make	himself	the	sole	heir	to	the	crown.	In	the	Ming	dynasty,	emperor	Zhu	Di	snatched	the	throne	from	his	nephew.	As	a	miniature	of	those	royal	families,	an	ordinary	person’s	life	is	full	of	ups	and	downs,	happiness	and	unhappiness.	Juexin,	the	protagonist	in	the	novel	Home	(1981)	by	a	famous	modern	Chinese	novelist	Bajin,	had	to	separate	from	the	girl	he	loved	and	marry	another	girl	that	his	father	arranged	for	him.	The	Plum	in	the	Golden	Vase	(Lan	Lin	Xiao	Xiao	Sheng,	1993),	a	novel	written	in	the	Ming	dynasty,	and	A	Dream	of	Red	Mansions,	another	novel	about	a	family	written	in	the	Qing	dynasty,	are	also	loaded	with	struggles,	cheatings,	and	even	murders	among	family	members.	Turning	my	eyes	to	Western	literature,	I	find	similar	clashes	and	struggles	in	Shakespeare’s	(2005)	depiction	of	King	Henry	IV,	and	Emily	Brontë’s	(2009)	Wuthering	Heights,	etc.	People	dress	up	and	perform	on	different	stages.	The	performers	change	through	time	and	space,	but	the	stories	are	similar.	For	all	the	unavoidable	struggles,	I’ll	NOT	STOP	trying	to	reduce	them	and	to	improve	my	family	stories.	I	write	to	help	my	family	live	well	in	the	present.	Before	I	entered	kindergarten,	I	came	along	with	my	mother	as	she	traveled	about	ten	kilometers	back	and	forth	between	her	working	place	and	my	home	in	a	village.	Just	like	most	people	at	that	time,	we	didn’t	have	a	car.	My	mother	rode	a	bicycle,	carrying	me	on	the	back	seat.	I	still	remember	once	on	our	way	home	when	it	was	raining	heavily	and	the	mud	on	the	field	road	was	too	thick	to	ride	a	bike.	My	mother	and	I	walked	in	the	rain,	totally	drained.	I	was	about	three	years	old	and	I	was	hungry	and	tired.	I	cried.	Swallowing	my	tears	together	with	raindrops,	I	begged:	“Mom,	I’m	cold	and	hungry	and	don’t	want	to	walk	anymore!”	My	mother	responded	in	pretended	anger,	“Close	your	mouth.	Or	else,	I’ll	leave	you	in	the	field	by	yourself.”		I	dared	not	complain	anymore	and	ran	very	fast.			 189		When	we	returned	home,	our	thatched	kitchen	roof	was	leaking	so	heavily	that	my	mother	couldn’t	start	the	fire	oven	as	the	firewood	was	wet.	There	were	no	stores	nearby,	and	we	didn’t	have	snacks.	My	mother	finally	managed	to	make	some	porridge.	After	dinner,	my	mother	and	I	huddled,	shaking	in	the	cold	for	the	night.	The	next	morning,	we	got	up	early	again	and	went	back	to	her	factory…	To	save	me	from	the	uncomfortable	trip	between	my	home	and	her	factory,	my	mother	talked	to	my	father	about	boarding	me	at	my	maternal	aunt’s.	My	father	promised	to	give	my	aunt	some	commodities	as	pay	from	time	to	time,	and	he	kept	his	word.	At	that	time,	you	couldn’t	buy	everything	you	wanted	even	if	you	had	money.	My	aunt	accepted	the	offer.	My	parents	were	very	thankful	to	my	aunt.	With	their	kind,	simple	and	believing	spirits,	my	parents	thought	I	was	safe	and	happy,	but	that	was	the	beginning	of	my	nightmare.	I	still	remember	the	first	night	at	my	aunt’s.	My	mother	left	me	there	and	hurried	back	home.	I	couldn’t	help	crying	as	it	was	my	first	time	leaving	my	mother.	I	cried	louder	and	louder	even	though	it	was	very	late	at	night.	I	didn’t	eat	or	drink,	just	cried.	Finally,	my	aunt’s	husband	told	me	that	he	would	take	me	back	to	my	home,	and	he	put	me	on	the	back	seat	of	his	bike	and	started	on	the	road.	The	outside	was	inky	dark.	I	stopped	crying	with	the	expectation	of	seeing	my	mother	soon.	We	travelled	for	a	while	and	then	he	stopped	and	took	me	off	the	bike.			“Stand	here.	Don’t	move.”	After	these	words,	he	disappeared,	like	magic.		I	didn’t	see	how	my	aunt’s	husband	disappeared.	I	stood	by	the	roadside,	motionless,	overwhelmed	by	the	darkness	and	my	fright.	I	turned	around,	trying	desperately	to	find	him.	No	one	around.	No	sound.	A	few	minutes	later,	I	saw	a	bonfire	on	the	bank	of	the	dried-up	river	beside	the	road,	but	I	didn’t	know	who	built	it.		Standing	alone	in	darkness,	staring	at	the	fire,	my	head	was	empty	and	dizzy.	Suddenly,	I	felt	someone	patting	me	on	my	shoulder.	I	could	hear	the	surge	of	blood	in	my	ears.	I	almost	collapsed.	I	struggled	to	turn	around.	It	was	my	aunt’s	husband.	He	whispered	in	my	ear:			 190	“Do	you	see	the	fire	there?	It	is	ghost	fire.	I’m	very	scared	and	want	to	return	to	my	home.	Do	you	want	to	go	with	me?”		I	was	beyond	myself.	I	wanted	to	cry	but	didn’t	dare	to	make	any	sound.	When	we	returned,	my	aunt	was	satisfied	with	her	husband’s	“training.”	And	she	saw	my	numbness	and	dumbness,	the	aftermath	of	this	horror	for	a	three-year-old.	She	told	the	whole	family	to	be	nice	to	me.	They	were	really	nice	to	me	for	several	days.	After	that,	my	cousin	who	shared	a	bed	with	me	insisted	that	I	go	out	to	wash	my	feet	in	the	yard	every	night.	I	didn’t	dare	to	do	so	alone,	nor	did	I	dare	to	tell	the	reason	was	because	of	my	fear	of	a	ghost	in	the	dark.	He	sniffed	and	said:		“I	don’t	like	your	dirty	feet.”	My	aunt	added,	“no	one	likes	smelly	feet.”		I	looked	at	everybody.	They	were	busy	with	their	own	business.	The	water	tank	where	everybody	washed	themselves	was	beside	the	toilet	in	the	front	yard.	I	creeped	out	of	the	room,	ran	quickly	to	the	water	container	and	flushed	my	feet	quickly.	I	didn’t	dare	to	turn	around,	always	feeling	something	behind	me.		That	night,	I	dreamt	of	being	chased	by	ghosts	in	the	wild.	I	screamed	loudly.	My	cousin	was	awakened	but	he	fell	asleep	again	soon.	In	profound	fright,	I	couldn’t	sleep	any	more,	and	buried	my	whole	body	in	my	quilt,	eyes	opened	in	horror,	attending	to	any	tiny	sound	till	morning.	I	had	many	nights	like	this	one	at	my	aunt’s.	Living	under	the	shadow	of	a	ghost	for	years,	I	finally	realized	that	there	was	no	ghost,	and	that	my	aunt’s	husband	had	set	the	bonfire	on	the	first	night.	In	the	daytime,	I	went	to	the	pre-school	in	my	aunt’s	village.	There	was	nothing	special	in	the	school	that	I	can	remember,	except	for	the	big	tree	in	the	middle	of	the	yard.	It	was	a	tree	with	a	shiny	and	leafy	canopy	and	a	thick	and	gnarled	trunk.	I	felt	safe	and	comfortable	when	I	sat	under	the	tree.	Whenever	I	suffered	from	high	fever,	I	would	sit	at	the	trunk	to	relieve	my	bad	feeling.	I	didn’t	dare	tell	anybody.	I	didn’t	know	what	to	do.	I	was	just	suffering,		 191	until	some	student	or	my	teacher	found	me	and	sent	me	back	to	my	aunt’s	or	to	a	doctor.	I	thought	that	I	wouldn’t	have	suffered	so	much	if	I	could	be	a	tall	tree.	How	strong	a	tree	was!	How	majestically	it	weathered	storms	and	rough	winds!	I	was	growing	fast,	but	sometimes	when	I	picked	up	more	food	at	the	dinner	table,	one	of	my	cousins	would	glance	at	me	or	make	an	unpleasant	sound.	I	knew	my	share	meant	less	for	them.	But	I	hungered	for	food,	and	my	parents	paid	for	it.	I	then	figured	out	a	way	to	pretend	to	drop	some	potato	strips	in	my	soup	bowl	and	pick	up	an	extra	bunch	from	the	shared	plate.	But	I	still	had	to	explore	how	many	times	I	could	do	the	trick	safely	at	one	dinner.		Schooling	at	the	elementary	level	was	not	demanding,	and	after-class	time	was	enjoyable.	Like	animals,	the	school-aged	boys	formed	groups	and	roamed	every	nook	and	crook	of	the	area.	Puffing	the	seeds	of	dandelions,	catching	bugs,	chasing	wild	dogs	were	typical	amusements	in	our	wandering	around.		One	day,	my	cousin	and	I	went	to	play	in	the	wheat	field	with	friends.	Newly	harvested	wheat	plants	were	emitting	a	pleasant	fragrance,	sparrows	darting	here	and	there.	We	chased	wild	dogs,	caught	and	cooked	insects,	and	went	further	away	from	home.	In	the	farm	land,	we	figured	out	an	exciting	game	of	jumping	from	the	top	of	a	desolate	house	to	the	haystack	beside	it.	My	cousin	yelled	and	jumped	on	the	hay.	The	other	boys	all	jumped.	I	was	the	last	one	to	climb	to	the	house.	I	jumped	to	the	narrow	space	on	the	haystack	that	was	not	occupied	by	my	peers.	The	moment	I	touched	the	hay,	I	felt	excruciating	pain	in	my	left	foot.	I	lifted	my	foot	and	saw	blood	everywhere.	There	were	some	pieces	of	broken	glass	bottles...		Weak	and	scared,	I	managed	to	go	back	to	the	village	with	the	help	of	my	friends.	After	a	village	doctor’s	treatment,	I	was	sent	back	to	my	aunt’s.	Every	day,	I	counted	the	days	on	the	calendar	that	usually	sat	on	the	desk	of	my	room.	I	knew	my	mother	or	my	father	would	come	to	see	me	every	week	or	so.	But	before	my	recovery,	I	never	saw	them.	I	could	not	imagine	what	my	aunt	told	my	classroom	teacher	who	was	from	the	same	village	as	my	father,	and	how	my	aunt	managed	to	have	my	parents	unsuspiciously	away	for	months.	And	thanks	to	my	perfect	recovery,	my	mother	didn’t	know	the	accident	happened	until	about	10	years	after	I	left	my	aunt’s,	and	for	his	entire	life	my	father	never	knew	what	happened	to	me	at	my	aunt’s.	About	a	year	or	so	before	I	came	back	to	my	own	home,	I	found	yet	another	taboo	that	I		 192	couldn’t	violate.	Once	my	teacher	asked	everybody	to	pay	for	some	school	fees.	I	asked	my	aunt	for	money	three	times	on	three	consecutive	days.	She	still	didn’t	give	me	the	money.	I	knew	I	was	just	borrowing	money	from	her,	and	my	mother	would	pay	her	back.	I	didn’t	want	to	be	the	last	one	to	pay,	which	would	be	awkward.	After	class,	I	managed	to	walk	to	my	mother’s	factory.	It	was	a	long	walk.	My	mother	rode	me	back	on	a	bike	and	gave	me	the	money.	My	aunt	received	both	of	us	warmly.	But	the	moment	my	mother	left,	I	saw	my	aunt’s	frowning	face.	She	refused	to	talk	to	me	for	several	days.	After	that,	without	my	aunt’s	permission	I	didn’t	dare	to	go	to	my	mother’s	factory	any	more,	nor	did	I	dare	to	let	my	parents	know	anything	that	happened	to	me	at	my	aunt’s.			 		 193	挥手  你挥手走向舷梯 辞别三十年风雨  你挥手走向舷梯 放下祖辈的哀怨 放下千年的厚重积淀  你挥手走向舷梯 作别那个叫故乡的 异乡 (Wu, 2016d, p. 151)   	 194	Waving			With	waving	hands,	you	stepped	onto	the	airplane,	You	departed	from	your	thirty	years	in	China.		With	waving	hands,		Let	go	of	your	ancestors’	sorrow,	Let	go	of	the	cultural	heritage	of	a	thousand	years.		With	waving	hands,		you	stepped	out,	waved	goodbye	to	the	so-called	hometown	That	was	so	foreign	to	you.21			                                                  21	This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	挥手	on	the	previous	page.		 195	到站  叹气 欢呼 和孩子的哭声  飞机抵达温哥华, 新的生活开始了, 而五月花也绽放了。 (Wu, 2016a, p. 152) 	 		 196	Arrival		Sighs	Cheers	And	children’s	cries.		The	flight	arrives	in	Vancouver;	a	new	life	starts,	And	May	flowers	blossom.22			 	                                                22	This	poem	is	rewritten	based	on	my	published	Chinese	poem	到达	on	the	previous	page.		 197		Memories		In	between	book	pages,	The	scent	of	ink	gradually	Exerts	pressure		Producing	a	dry	Riverbed.		Walking	in	the	riverbed	Of	my	memories,	I	play	with	Every	piece	of	Hard	stone.		 		 198	H2O	ME		I	cannot	live	Without	Water.		For	ME	H-HOME	Is	holy	water.		 		 199	Watching	A	Drama		It	is	A	short	drama,	About	two	roads,	And	two	brothers.		We	rehearsed	the	words:	Gap,	Divide,	In-between,	etc.	For	the	performance	At	the	beginning,	I	thought	It	was	merely	an	Act.		When	the	play	started		with	its	happy	opening,	I	was	enthralled,	Because	I	had	a	little	brother,	And	understood	the	wonderfulness	of	Having	a	brother.		But	when	it	moved	to	climbing	and	falling,	I	came	to	meditate	Heartily,	How	blessed	I	was	to	have	a	brother.		 		 200	人月圆		清云攀蹑窗前过,月坠闪繁星。清香花落,犹萦盛夏,语涩思腾。	青山碧水,风姿绰绰,故道枯藤。痴狂笑我,多情翘慕,澹澹青冥。		To	the	Tune	of	Ren	Yue	Yuan		Clear	clouds	creep,	passing	through	my	window,	The	moon	falls,	and	stars	twinkle.	Fresh	and	fragrant	petals	drop	They	are	still	lingering	in	high	summer	I’m	wordless,	my	thoughts	rising.		Green	mountains,	emerald	waters,	Their	demeanours	are	so	leisurely,	Ancient	road	sees	withered	vines.	Enthralled	by	all,	I	laugh	at	myself,	Compassionately	I	admire,		The	wavy	indigo	heaven.		 		 201	Stanza	8								 		 202	不忒		井市攘攘入眼明	飞檐画栋满双城	山隅海外寻幽秀	忒煞萧疏意未平		Nothing	Wrong		Seeing	clamorous	people	on	commercial	streets,	I	understand	their	intentions.	I	also	notice	the	cornices	and	beautifully	decorated	houses	everywhere	in	my	two	cities.23	I	try	to	find	a	secluded	and	elegant	place	in	remote	mountains	or	foreign	lands,	But	these	areas	are	so	desolate,	as	my	wish	is	not	yet	fulfilled.			 	                                                23 The	two	cities	are	Beijing	and	Vancouver. 		 203	Survival	was	already	a	luxury	for	people	who	had	experienced	social	and	political	turmoil.	As	the	eldest	son	of	my	family,	I	have	to	suffer	the	bitter	consequence	of	my	ancestors’	misconceptions,	misjudgments,	and	choices.	Yet,	blaming	others	won’t	help	me	become	smarter,	and	negative	and	emotional	reactions	only	break	my	peaceful	mind	and	disturb	my	own	life.	I	would	say	there	is	NOTHING	WRONG	with	others.	I	prefer	to	trace	out	my	personal	and	familial	history	and	learn	lessons	from	it.	Summing	up	the	lessons	from	my	experience	with	relatives,	I	think	it	is	my	own	responsibility	to	acquire	the	ability	to	detect	their	real	intentions	and	decide	what	is	the	most	beneficial	for	my	family	and	myself.	My	relatives	have	the	right	to	do	and	say	anything,	as	long	as	their	deeds	and	words	are	not	against	the	law	and	their	personal	morality.	I	can’t	control	their	thinking	and	way	of	doing	things.	I	need	to	improve	my	character,	and	pick	appropriate	life	models	and	companions	for	myself	and	not	to	be	influenced	by	others.	At	the	same	time,	I	have	to	learn	adequate	skills	to	deal	with	certain	kinds	of	people.	I	have	to	shoulder	the	responsibility,	no	matter	how	many	setbacks	I	face,	how	far	I	travel	for	seeking	truth,	and	how	many	piles	of	books	and	tons	of	newspapers	I	read	for	enlightenment.	My	poetic	inquiry	helped	me	understand	the	bewilderment	in	my	life.	After	I	came	back	to	my	own	home,	I	regularly	visited	the	bookshop	beside	my	mother’s	factory.	There	were	all	kinds	of	magazines,	poetry	anthologies,	modern	and	classical	literature	books.	After	reading	these	books,	I	began	to	mimic	how	others	wrote.	Through	writing,	I	began	to	explore	the	innermost	part	of	my	heart,	and	gradually,	I	dared	to	face	the	things	that	I	tried	to	forget.	Years	later	when	I	read	Carl	Leggo’s	articles,	I	realized	what	I	had	been	doing	from	childhood	was	Poetic	Inquiry.	It	is	a	blessing!		 		 204		桐		微风晓语花三月	郁翠吴桐满院新	弈谱琴书轩槛静	耕耘百世乐天真		Phoenix	Tree		The	breeze	whispers	to	flowers	in	the	morning	of	the	third	month	In	Wu’s	home,	phoenix	trees	are	dense	and	green,	and	the	whole	garden	is	refreshed	With	only	chess	manuals,	zither	and	books	on	the	timber	railing,	it	is	silent	here	My	family	members	have	plough	and	weeded	for	generations,	and	we	enjoy	being	simple	and	sincere		 		 205	In	my	poetry,	I	mentioned	many	times	that	“I”	was	crying.	It	is	not	that	I	was	actually	shedding	tears,	but	a	literary	tradition.	By	saying	this,	I’m	not	indicating	that	every	Chinese	poet	likes	to	write	about	crying,	although	many	great	poets	were	inclined	to	do	so,	such	as	Qu	Yuan,	Ruan	Ji,	Du	Fu,	Jia	Dao,	and	so	on.	I	would	take	the	“crying”	in	my	poems	as	an	exaggerated	expression	of	my	intensified	feelings.	Also,	I	wrote	several	“To	the	Tune	of	Yi	Jiang	Nan”	in	the	Ci	form.	They’re	very	similar	in	terms	of	their	content	and	imagery,	but	are	still	different	from	each	other.	I	wrote	these	different	versions	to	explore	the	scope	for	different	representations	and	understandings	of	a	same	situation.			忆江南		空山雨,鸥燕掠危樯。云拥月寒光漠漠,雾随风霁色苍苍。诗泪共冰霜。		To	the	Tune	of	Yi	Jiang	Nan		In	the	serene	mountain	rain,	seagulls	and	swallows	are	flying	over	the	tall	spars.	The	clouds	embrace	the	moon,	and	the	vast	sky	glows.	Poetry	and	my	tears	pour	out	together	with	ice	and	frost.		 		 206			Epilogue		 		 207		I	quote	MacKenzie-Dawson’s	(2018)	remark	on	doing	poetic	inquiries	to	wrap	up	my	story:	“A	way	to	create	spaces	for	‘identification	and	empathetic	connection’	(Pelias,	2004,	p.	1)	where	through	language	both	reader	and	writer,	self	and	other	may	become	part	of	the	greater	dialogue	about	what	it	means	to	be	human”	(para.	9).	For	all	the	unavoidable	conflicts,	my	mother	and	I	still	endeavor	to	reduce	them	in	my	family.	I	was	confused	and	frustrated	sometimes,	especially	in	front	of	great	familial	and	social	changes	that	happened	in	my	life.	I	constantly	try	to	think	over	my	past,	gain	adequate	knowledge	to	solve	my	life	confusions,	and	overcome	hard	times.	This	process	makes	me	understand	the	world	better	and	enjoy	my	current	life	more.	Poetic	Inquiry	tided	me	over	the	hard	times,	and	granted	me	the	chance	to	examine	my	life	journey.	I	began	to	understand	the	world	by	an	attempt	to	understand	my	life	and	that	of	my	family	members.	I	exist	to	fulfill	my	personal	goals	and	personal	preferences.	Without	a	sound	understanding	of	myself,	I	can	easily	get	lost	in	the	complicated	world.	I	fully	realize	that	I	have	to	understand	my	personal	history	and	my	family	history	first	and	then	extend	to	my	community,	my	society	and	beyond.	My	personal	life	is	first	and	foremost	influenced	by	and	interconnected	with	my	family	members.	I	have	to	gain	an	insightful	understanding	of	my	family	members’	character,	abilities,	shortcomings,	and	advantages,	and	so	on,	so	that	I	can	serve	my	family	better	and	find	a	suitable	position	in	society.		I	wrote	eight	collections	of	poems	to	explore	my	feelings,	emotions,	and	life	events	in	the	eight	stanzas	of	my	research.	The	independent	poems	in	each	stanza	are	as	“fluid	and	discursive”	as	other	personal	stories	(MacKenzie-Dawson,	2018,	para.	37).	They’re	fluid	and	discursive	in	the	way	that	they	don’t	have	obvious	connections	between	them.	They	are	records	of	my	thoughts	and	emotions	that	I	collected	in	each	standing	point	(stanza).	These	poems	and	narrations	are	the	tools	that	I	use	to	reinterpret	my	family	history	in	a	positive	and	acceptable	way.		I	also	translated	my	Chinese	poems	into	English.	Some	of	the	poems	were	written	in	modern	Chinese,	others	in	classical	Chinese.	In	my	translation,	I	understood	that	it	was	nearly	impossible	to	translate	classical	Chinese	poetry	into	modern	English	in	an	equivalent	and		 208	satisfactory	manner.	I	adopted	the	most	common	way	and	translated	my	traditional	Chinese	poem	into	free	verse	in	English.	I	have	no	particular	preference	for	any	dialect	of	the	English	language,	so	I	used	the	dictions	and	expressions	that	best	suited	my	purpose.	Influenced	by	her	or	his	education,	an	author	often	“consciously	or	unconsciously”	and	“willingly”	or	unwillingly	repeats	the	former	writer	in	certain	ways	(Swartz,	2018,	p.	43).	I	read	academic	and	poetry	books,	and	write	my	own	poems.	Examining	my	original	poems,	I	found	so	many	items	that	appeared	again	and	again	in	Chinese	literary	history.	Yet,	they	are	still	as	expressive	as	they	were	before,	because	they’re	used	in	new	circumstances	to	explore	the	inner	and	outer	world	of	a	different	person,	namely	Botao	Wu,	a	scholar	who	lives	in	modern	society.	I	adopted	a	dissertation	structure	that	is	indebted	to	the	first	collection	of	Chinese	poetry.	I	revealed	my	family	stories	with	vignettes	scattered	in	my	writing,	and	didn’t	expose	the	whole	story	until	the	end	of	stanza	8.	I	expect	readers	to	piece	together	the	stories	with	their	gestalt	scheme.	Many	Chinese	writers	don’t	reveal	everything	until	the	very	end	of	their	writing.	I	can	find	English	counterparts	in	Chopin	and	O’	Henry.	I	acknowledge	that	my	writing	is	indebted	to	the	available	cultures	and	languages.			Withdrawing	into	retrospection	and	gaining	momentum	are	inevitable	and	necessary	for	a	scholar.	Tian	(2018)	analyzed	ancient	Chinese	poets	who	were	“going	local,	(and)	getting	personal”	(p.	284).	She	(Tian,	2018)	stressed	the	importance	of	the	poets’	personal	encounter	with	some	physical	and	historical	objects	belonging	to	the	bygone	dynasty,	such	as	“a	broken	halberd”	(p.	285),	“an	encrusted	lump”	(p.	286),	and	so	on.	These	poems	derive	much	of	their	“weight	and	power	from	the	claim	to	firsthand	experience”	(Tian,	2018,	p.	288).	In	Tian’s	(2018)	discussion	of	poems	relating	to	Red	Cliff,	she	mentioned	that	poets	left	the	capital	and	went	to	provinces,	and	that	these	personal	experiences	of	the	local	sites	appeared	on	the	“national	map”	(p.	289).	The	poets	retreated	to	a	remote	and	local	area,	and	by	composing	poems	they	gained	better	understanding	of	themselves,	the	locality,	and	Chinese	history.	Then,	they	expanded	and	promoted	a	specific	local	scenery,	the	“Red	Cliff,”	on	a	larger	scale,	granting	it	abiding	influence	in	Chinese	literary	history.		I	take	my	personal	experience	to	any	specific	location	as	“going	local,”	and	my	dissertation	personalizes	my	family	story.	In	a	“performative	and	commemorative”	manner		 209	(Swartz,	2018,	p.	6),	I	carried	out	this	poetic	inquiry	in	Vancouver	to	stitch	together	the	“everyday	life”	(Lyon,	2008,	p.	81)	of	my	family,	and	this	dissertation	is	a	reflection	on	some	of	the	things	that	went	wrong	in	my	family.	We	are	too	credulous	due	to	our	ancestors’	living	and	working	on	a	piece	of	enclosed	land,	and	we	lack	the	ability	to	understand	people’s	real	intentions.	For	those	extensive	family	members	who	have	taken	advantage	of	my	parents,	I	don’t	blame	them	at	all.	I	prefer	to	reinterpret	and	rewrite	the	past	stories	in	an	acceptable	way	so	as	to	improve	my	character	and	my	understanding	of	people	and	the	world,	and	to	live	well	at	present.	This	dissertation	is	a	regard	for	my	ancestors.	It	is	not	a	blind	worship	of	ancestors,	but	a	calm	and	respectful	reflection	of	my	family	history.	My	writing	involves	various	lingual	and	cultural	sources.	I	welcome	the	reader	to	read	my	writing	based	on	their	personal	background.	I	can’t	deny	that	some	of	my	writing	may	not	be	familiar	to	people	with	different	experiences	and	cultural	backgrounds.	I	know	this	is	inevitable	in	the	communication	between	cultures.	It	is	a	negotiation	process.	As	“Cultures	never	exist	in	a	pure	state	but	are	constituted	in	and	through	negotiation	with	other	cultural	practices”	(Papastergiadis,	2000,	p.	136),	I	express	English	language	culture	in	Chinese	and	Chinese	culture	in	English.	I	also	produced	my	transcultural	identity	“through	the	constant	negotiation	between	past	and	present,	here	and	elsewhere,	absence	and	presence,	self	and	other”	(Papastergiadis,	2000,	p.	159).	Through	these	negotiations,	languages	and	cultures	keep	dynamic,	instead	of	stagnant.		As	ordinary	people,	we	may	have	inner	conflicts	with	ourselves;	belonging	to	a	family,	we	may	struggle	with	other	members;	being	a	citizen	of	a	country,	we	hold	divergent	ideologies	and	cultures.	But,	all	of	us	are	contributing	to	a	human	species	(Hawking,	2018).	Recalling	and	examining	the	events	in	my	family	history,	I	try	to	find	faults	in	myself	and	in	my	family	members.	It	is	beneficial	that	we	pay	attention	to	our	inner	conflicts,	speak	out	our	minds,	and	reach	consensus.	In	this	process,	we	can	realize	the	limitations	of	our	“concept	of	identity”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	116).	We	reduce	and	remove	“violence”	in	our	writing	and	translation	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	116).	We	respect	“the	differences	of	foreign	texts	and	cultures”	(Berman,	1999,	p.	76	as	translated	and	cited	in	Venuti,	2013,	p.	186),	and	enrich	our	“language	and	culture”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	116).		 210		Conclusion		Human	beings	form	society	and	“society	shapes	our	narratives,	identities	and	lives”	(Boylorn	&	Orb,	2014,	p.	16).	Society	is	educating	individuals,	while	“anything	which	can	be	called	a	study”	in	education	“must	be	derived	from	materials	which	at	the	outset	fall	within	the	scope	of	ordinary	life-experience”	(Dewey,	1997,	p.	73).	When	setting	up	curricula	we	must	make	sure	they	“have	the	capacity	to	speak	to	as	broad	a	range	of	human	experience	as	possible,	especially	the	poor	and	marginalized”	(Rocha	&	Burton,	2017,	p.	11).	In	another	word,	curricula	should	address	the	experiences	of	the	ordinary	people.	The	interaction	and	bidirectional	education	between	society	and	its	specific	and	ordinary	individuals	is	a	fluid,	ever-changing	and	“reciprocal”	(Dewey,	1997,	p.	72)	process.		I	write	“numerous	stories	from	my	own	life”	(Manovski,	2014,	p.	xv)	and	“linger”	(Leggo,	2012,	p.	xiii)	in	stories.	Storying	is	“a	way	of	living	in	the	world”	(Leggo,	2012,	p.	xvii).	Writing	brings	me	to	the	“dimensions	of	my	spirit	and	of	myself	that	normally	lie	smothered	under	the	weight	of	living”	(Winterson	1996,	p.	137).	Writing	allows	me	to	face	gallantly	my	“trauma”	and	“grief”	(Galvin	&	Prendergast,	2012,	p.	6)	in	the	past.	I	“relive,	relearn,	and	research	my	prior	experience”	(Manovski,	2014,	p.	xx),	and	the	constant	digestion	and	distillation	of	lived	experience	(Leggo,	2008a,	p.	92;	Owton,	2017,	p.	10)	brightens	me	up.	Most	importantly,	“artistic	representation”	of	my	life	events	invites	me	to	have	a	clearer	sense	of	“the	world	in	which	we	live”	(Rosiek,	2018,	p.	38),	and	to	touch	its	“beauty	and	complexity”	(Grumet,	2018,	p.	16).		The	beautiful	yet	complex	world	is	shaped	by	ourselves.	We	are	in	the	endless	process	of	“creation	and	re-creation	of	new	knowledge”	that	forms	the	foundation	of	our	understanding	of	the	world,	and	from	this	starting	point,	we	continuously	create	and	recreate	ourselves	(Manovski,	2014,	p.116).	Recently,	I	communicated	with	my	mother	regarding	my	maternal	aunt’s	family.	My	mother	suggested	that	I	look	at	the	bright	side	of	things	and	forget	the	unpleasant	part.	I	reminded	my	mother	of	some	facts.	It	was	she	who	told	me	that	my	maternal	grandmother	scolded	my	aunt	after	my	grandmother	knew	my	experience	at	my		 211	aunt’s.	I	myself	witnessed	many	times	that	my	mother	gave	money	to	my	maternal	aunt’s	children.	Yet,	now	my	mother	said	she	had	forgotten	she	gave	them	money,	though	she	admitted	that	my	father	did	give	my	aunt	some	commodities	from	time	to	time.	My	mother	prefers	to	change	the	old	story	in	her	life,	so	as	to	forget	the	past	and	live	at	present.		Although	Poetic	Inquiry	is	seemingly	about	ourselves,	it	extends	to	people	around	us	and	the	world.	Writing	about	our	past	and	living	our	lives	compassionately,	we	learn	lessons	from	what	“we	speak	out	against”	(Foster,	2016,	p.	141).	We	set	an	example	for	our	readers	to	voice	their	life	experiences	and	to	write	in	similar	ways.	My	practices	“instruct	our	readers	about	this	world	and	how	we	see	it”	(Denzin,	2006,	p.	333).	I	tell	my	stories	to	bring	my	readers	and	me	(Foster,	2014)	“into	a	shared	experience”	(Jones	&	Adams,	2016,	p.	139).	I	examine	the	wisdom	of	ancient	Chinese	scholars	and	trace	back	my	family	stories.	My	family	story	is	woven	with	my	paradoxical	feelings	toward	my	relatives	and	my	hometown.	In	the	West,	I	can	examine	my	family	stories	and	my	cultural	tradition	through	a	global	lens,	and	try	to	correct	the	things	that	went	wrong	in	my	family	and	to	establish	my	transcultural	identity.	I	“seek	to	produce	aesthetic	and	evocative	thick	descriptions	of	personal	and	interpersonal	experience”	(Gouzouasis,	2014,	p.	6).	This	shared	experience	can	involve	people	in	a	“collective	and	creative	participation”	and	help	them	understand	their	own	lives,	and	their	“social	realities”	(Foster,	2016,	p.	135).	Belonging	to	a	same	human	species	(Hawking,	2018),	we	share	stories	and	wisdom	with	friends	from	the	East	and	the	West,	and	try	to	improve	our	own	lives,	and	that	of	others.	Trying	to	gain	a	“focused	mind”	(Tian,	2011,	p.	27)	and	the	“right	state	of	mind”	(Tian,	2011,	p.	34),	I	recount	my	past	and	help	myself	out	of	the	unfavorable	experience	(渡己).	I	“carefully”	observe	my	“desire	and	impulse”	to	speak	out	my	personal	story	(Dewey,	1997,	p.	71).	My	father’s	generosity	and	love	for	my	family	were	the	motives	for	me	to	keep	writing.	My	mother	forgiving	her	older	sister	made	me	feel	very	uncomfortable	at	first.	Gradually,	I	could	understand	them.	They	don’t	like	family	conflicts	and	try	their	best	to	avoid	conflicts	with	their	siblings,	even	if	their	siblings	have	taken	advantage	of	them	and	their	children.	My	parents	are	simple	and	ordinary	people.	But	I	can	see	glorious	character	in	them.	I	hold	the	same	opinion	as	my	parents	and	don’t	want	family	conflicts.	I	present	my	personal	experience	and	my	identity		 212	as	a	poetic	inquirer.	Poetic	inquirers	write	about	themselves	to	“explore	the	nature	of	being	human”	(MacKenzie-Dawson,	2018,	para.	11).	We	are	“insignificant”	in	comparison	with	“the	vast	size	of	the	universe”	(Hawking,	2018,	p.	28),	and	we	are	“mere	collections	of	fundamental	particles	of	nature”	(Hawking,	2018,	p.	27).	Yet,	we	can	reveal	and	revise	our	world	through	our	writing	(Jones,	2005,	p.	767),	and	finally	can	reconstitute	our	world	(Richardson,	1993,	p.	705).	 		 213	This	dissertation	is	to	invite	my	readers	to	take	writing	as	“a	way	of	living	in	the	world”	(Leggo,	2012,	p.	xvii).	By	doing	this,	we	have	already	started	to	change	our	world.	Then,	we	can	build	on	the	minute	changes,	attend	to	the	little	improvements,	and	finally	change	our	lives	by	growing	in	strength.	The	other	intention	of	this	dissertation	is	to	provide	my	readers	with	an	example	of	understanding	setbacks	and	tragedies	in	their	own	lives.	When	there	is	something	wrong	in	our	lives,	it’s	too	easy	and	ready	to	blame	others,	the	environment	and	our	society.	But,	it’s	more	beneficial	that	we	attribute	our	misfortunes	to	our	own	mistakes	and	shortcomings,	and	improve	ourselves.	Finally,	this	dissertation	introduces	Chinese	literature	and	culture	into	Poetic	Inquiry,	and	has	the	potential	to	disseminate	the	theory	of	Poetic	Inquiry	in	China.		I	didn’t	provide	my	mother	and	my	late	father’s	names	in	the	dissertation,	because	this	piece	of	work	is	for	everyone.	Mother	and	father	are	how	we	refer	to	our	parents	in	English.	There	are	many	different	ways	to	address	people’s	mother	and	father,	such	as	娘,妈妈 and	母亲	for	mother,	and	爹,爸爸	and	父亲	for	father.	You	are	invited	to	contribute	to	this	conversation	about	our	mothers	and	fathers.	My	writing	enriches	our	“language	and	culture”	(Venuti,	2013,	p.	116),	and	calls	for	respect	for	“the	differences	of	foreign	texts	and	cultures”	(Berman,	1999,	p.	76	as	translated	and	cited	in	Venuti,	2013,	p.	186).	I	thank	the	inclusive	Canadian	culture	for	accommodating	this	dissertation.	I	also	thank	the	scholarships	that	I	received	from	CSC,	UBC	and	other	sources.	I	couldn’t	afford	the	cost	of	the	research	when	I	decided	to	carry	it	out.	These	scholarships	helped	greatly	and	cheered	me	up.	 		 214			Photograph	8.	Digital	photograph.	Chinese	character	渡	(to	cross,	to	ferry,	to	pass	through)	written	by	Botao	Wu	with	a	Chinese	writing	brush.	 		 215		Bibliography		Amitz,	A.	M.	(2003).	Well-Put:	Extraordinary	stories	about	ordinary	people.	Jerusalem:	Feldheim	Publishers.	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