15/08/2026
🐯 A Thousand-Year-Old Poem That Changes How We See Tigers
Did you know that over 1,200 years ago, a Tang Dynasty poet left us a remarkable field record of China's ancestral tigers?
Chu Guangxi (储光羲) spent more than twenty years living in the Zhongnan Mountains, observing tigers firsthand. Unlike other poets who used tigers as metaphors for war or power, Chu wrote what he actually saw.
His poem Fierce Tiger Ballad (猛虎词) contains a striking opening:
"In cold, it does not fear the snow;
When hungry, it does not feed on men."
He goes on to describe the tiger's natural diet as wild beasts, its domain as the mountains, and its nature as inherently peaceable — neither seeking out humans nor threatening settlements.
This is not allegory. This is field observation, preserved in the Song Dynasty canonical edition and passed down unchanged through the centuries.
📖 What does it tell us? That China's indigenous tigers were historically reclusive, avoiding human contact even in times of scarcity. Their world was the high mountains — not the villages below.
At China Tiger Revival, we believe that understanding the deep cultural and historical relationship between tigers and the Chinese landscape is as important as the science of rewilding.
These tigers were once written into our poetry as neighbours, not enemies.
We are working to ensure they are written back into our future.
📌 Read the full poem and our reflections on the link between historical records and modern conservation:
猛虎词 (Fierce Tiger Ballad)
📜 Original Text (Sòng Dynasty Version)
寒亦不忧雪，饥亦不食人。
人肉岂不甘，所恶伤明神。
太室为我宅，孟门为我邻。
百兽为我膳，五龙为我宾。
蒙马一何威，浮江一以仁。
彩章耀朝日，牙爪雄武臣。
高云逐气浮，厚地随声振。
君能贾馀勇，日夕长相亲。
📝 Translation
Fierce Tiger Ballad
In cold, it does not fear the snow;
When hungry, it does not feed on men.
Is human flesh not sweet to taste?
It shuns such prey, by heaven's grace.
Mount Taishi is my home and hall,
Mengmen my neighbour's rugged wall.
The beasts of the hills my table spread,
The Five Dragons visit me instead.
The horned horse, how fierce its might!
The river-crossing — a deed of light.
Its stripes blaze bright as morning sun,
Its fangs and claws the warrior's crown.
High clouds rise where its breath is drawn,
Deep earth shakes where its roar is born.
O sir, if you would wield such might,
By day and night you'd share my light.
🐅 The Poem as Field Record
The opening lines of the poem establish the tiger's innate character: it does not fear the cold, nor does it prey on humans—even when driven by hunger. This is not a poetic metaphor. It is a direct observational claim, grounded in the poet's long-term experience of living among the mountains.
By naming Mount Taishi and Mengmen, the poet anchors the tiger's territory in the real geography of the Zhongnan Mountains. These place names do more than locate the scene; they draw a clear boundary between the tiger's wild domain and the world of human settlements. The tiger, in this reading, is not a trespasser but a resident of its own ancient land.
Its diet is also carefully defined. The line "beasts of the hills are my table" confirms that the tiger preys on wild animals—deer, boar, and other creatures of the forest—not livestock or people. It has no need to descend from the mountains to seek food among human communities.
The reference to the Five Dragons introduces a cosmological dimension. In Chinese tradition, dragons are associated with cosmic order and harmony. By placing the tiger in their company, the poet aligns it with the natural, balanced rhythms of the universe—not as a destructive intruder, but as a participant in the order of things.
The final couplet delivers an invitation. If the reader can summon such courage—the courage to understand rather than fear—they may live in harmony with the tiger's world. It is a moral conclusion built not on fear, but on the possibility of coexistence.
In the broader context of Chinese tiger literature, this poem is exceptional. Unlike the fierce tiger of frontier poetry—used as a metaphor for rebellion or invasion—this tiger is recorded as it truly is: a reclusive creature that avoids humans, follows its own nature, and poses no threat to those who do not threaten it.
This is not a poem about the tiger as symbol. It is a poem about the tiger as it lived.
(Painting: Traveling Monk with a Tiger" from Cave 17, Dunhuang Murals).
