原文 Original Text
Translation
During the Taiyuan era of the Eastern Jin (376–396), a fisherman of Wuling was plying his trade. He followed a stream, forgetting how far he had gone, when suddenly he came upon a grove of peach trees lining both banks for several hundred paces. There was not a single other tree among them — only peach blossoms, their petals falling in a riot of pink and white over lush, fragrant grass.
The fisherman, astonished, pressed on to find where the grove ended. At its source the stream issued from a mountain, and in the mountain was a small opening from which a faint light seemed to emanate. He left his boat and entered. The passage was impossibly narrow at first — barely wide enough for a single person — but after a few dozen paces it opened into a vast, bright landscape.
Flat fields stretched in every direction. Houses stood in orderly rows. There were fertile paddies, clear ponds, mulberry trees and bamboo. Paths crisscrossed the fields; roosters crowed and dogs barked. The people who walked among them — men and women, old and young — dressed exactly as people did in the outside world. White-haired elders and children with hanging hair all wore expressions of perfect contentment.
When they saw the fisherman, they were amazed. "Where do you come from?" they asked. He told them everything. They invited him to their homes, killed chickens, poured wine, and prepared feasts. The whole village came to see the stranger. They explained: "Our ancestors fled here during the chaos of the Qin dynasty. We brought our families and neighbors to this place beyond the world, and we have never left. We have had no contact with the outside since."
"What era is it now?" they asked. They had never heard of the Han dynasty, let alone the Wei or Jin.
The fisherman told them everything he knew. They sighed with wonder. Each family in turn invited him to dine with them. After several days he took his leave. The villagers said to him: "It is not worth telling the outside world about us."
Once out, the fisherman found his boat and retraced his path, marking every turn. When he returned to the commandery, he went straight to the governor and told his tale. The governor immediately sent men to follow the fisherman's marks. But they lost the way. The path to the Peach Blossom Spring was never found again.
Analysis 解读
This is arguably the most famous short prose piece in all of Chinese literature. Its author, Tao Qian (Tao Yuanming), was himself a man who quit official life to farm — the ultimate expression of the Daoist ideal of withdrawal from the world's dust. The Peach Blossom Spring is his literary manifesto: a vision of what human life could be without wars, taxes, bureaucracies, and dynastic ambition.
But notice what the villagers are not: they are not immortals, not sages, not ascetics. They are ordinary farmers who happen to live in a place the world forgot. They keep chickens. They grow rice. They drink wine. Their paradise is not spiritual — it is social. They have escaped not from suffering, but from history.
Further Reading
- → 丁令威化鹤 · Ding Lingwei — another world beyond time
- → 赤城山遇仙 · Immortals of Mount Chicheng — mountain paradises
- → 枕中幻境 · Dream Adventures — parallel worlds in You Ming Lu