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Born in the South, Steadfast in Spirit

Ode to the Orange Tree | Chu Ci · Jiu Zhang · Ju Song

When an Ancient Orange Tree Awakens in Digital Music

“A tree is rooted in the earth by nature. A human being remains faithful to a conviction through choice.”

More than two thousand years ago, in the southern lands of the ancient state of Chu, an orange tree became the subject of an extraordinary poem. It did not travel beyond its native soil, yet its roots, branches, and fruit came to represent something far greater than a tree. In Ju Song (橘颂, Ode to the Orange Tree), traditionally attributed to Qu Yuan, the orange tree becomes a symbol of integrity, independence, and the determination to remain faithful to one’s principles.

In the summer of 2025, I returned to Chu Ci and began exploring how its ancient poetry might be transformed into music through artificial intelligence. On June 21, I created a digital musical interpretation of Ju Song using Suno AI. The recording contained an unexpected feature: for approximately two minutes, the music unfolded without a lead vocal. Only later did the ancient words begin to emerge, as though an orange grove were slowly awakening in the morning mist.

The experience raised a question that connects classical literature with contemporary artistic creation. When an ancient poem enters a new musical medium, are we recovering the voice of the past, or creating another dialogue with it?

I. Rooted in the South: From the Orange Tree to an Ideal of Human Character

“The orange tree holds its place in the southern soil. Qu Yuan holds his convictions within his heart. As the seasons and the world continue to change, what remains steadfast?”

1. A Noble Tree of the South | Why Does the Orange Tree Remain in Its Native Land?

“Entrusted with its nature, it does not move; it grows in the southern land.”

The opening of Ju Song celebrates the orange tree as a noble plant of the southern landscape. The warm and humid climate of the Yangtze River region provided favourable conditions for citrus cultivation. Ancient Chinese writers also recognised the relationship between plants and their environments. The Yanzi Chunqiu (Spring and Autumn Annals of Master Yan) contains the well-known observation that an orange growing south of the Huai River remains an orange, reflecting an early understanding of regional differences in cultivation and environment.

This observation should not be understood as a strict botanical law. Rather, it reveals how the ancient Chinese perceived the influence of land and climate upon living things. In Qu Yuan’s poem, however, the orange tree becomes more than a plant adapted to its surroundings. Its rootedness is transformed into a moral image. What nature determines for a tree becomes, through poetry, a question of human character.

A tree takes root in the soil through the conditions of its existence. A person who remains faithful to a conviction must make that choice in the face of changing circumstances.

2. Standing Independently | When Rootedness Becomes a Moral Principle

“How admirable it is to stand independently and remain unchanged.”

As the poem develops, Qu Yuan’s attention moves from the physical beauty of the orange tree towards its symbolic character. Its deep roots and resistance to transplantation become images of a firm and undivided will. The poet admires a being that stands apart without being carried away by the surrounding currents.

This independence does not necessarily mean isolation from the world. Nor does it require a human being to remain physically in one place. The moral significance lies in preserving judgment and principle when external circumstances encourage compromise. The tree’s physical rootedness becomes a metaphor for an inner stability that cannot be measured by geographical distance.

To remain steadfast does not mean refusing to move. It means that even after moving, one still knows where one comes from.

3. A Lifelong Companion | Why Does Qu Yuan Wish to Befriend a Tree?

“May we grow old together, and may I remain your lifelong friend.”

In the later part of Ju Song, the poet no longer observes the orange tree merely as an object of admiration. He wishes to become its companion and to share the passing years with it. This creates an unusual reversal of the relationship between teacher and student. Instead of an elder instructing the young, a human being turns towards a tree as a model of conduct.

The poem eventually compares the orange tree’s virtue with that of Boyi, a figure traditionally admired for his moral integrity. The orange tree thus becomes an ideal worthy of imitation. Its beauty is no longer limited to leaves, branches, and fruit. It embodies a vision of how a person might live with dignity and conviction.

Qu Yuan learns from a tree because, in his poetic imagination, the tree already possesses what human beings so often struggle to preserve: the ability to remain true to what sustains them.

II. The Orange Grove Awakens: From Ancient Poetry to AI-Generated Sound

“The orange tree records the passage of time through its roots. The poet preserves his convictions through words. When ancient poetry enters a digital soundscape, who can predict the moment when its voice will awaken?”

1. When Ju Song Becomes a Song Again

On the evening of June 21, 2025, I used Suno AI to create a musical interpretation of Chu Ci · Jiu Zhang · Ju Song. I preserved the original classical Chinese text and allowed the AI system to generate a contemporary musical setting. My intention was not to reconstruct the historical music of ancient Chu, but to explore how a poem more than two thousand years old might become audible through modern technology.

Classical Chinese and modern Mandarin are separated by a long history of linguistic change. Even with modern pronunciation guidance, an AI singing system cannot reproduce the original sounds of the Warring States period. Classical vocabulary, unusual characters, and poetic phrasing may also cause errors in pronunciation or pauses. These limitations are important because they distinguish a contemporary musical interpretation from an authentic reconstruction of ancient performance.

Artificial intelligence can organise musical sounds, but it cannot recover the inner world of the poet. What it offers is not the original voice of ancient Chu, but a response created by someone living in the present.

2. Two Minutes of Waiting | When the Orange Grove Awakens in Silence

The most distinctive feature of this recording was something I had not planned. After the music began, the lead vocal did not immediately enter. Instead, an atmospheric soundscape continued for approximately two minutes before the words of Ju Song were finally sung. This unusually long introduction was generated by the AI system itself, not specified in my instructions.

At first, the listener encounters flowing musical textures rather than clearly articulated poetry. The sound seems to occupy an uncertain space, like an orange grove still concealed beneath the morning mist. As the introduction continues, the absence of a singing voice becomes increasingly noticeable. The listener waits for language to emerge, even though the music has already begun to establish its own atmosphere.

When the vocal finally enters, the experience changes. The ancient poem moves from written language into audible expression, and the preceding music acquires a new significance. In my imagination, it resembles the moment when the mist begins to lift and the trees gradually become visible.

I understand this musical passage through four stages: waiting, emergence, awakening, and expression. These stages are not evidence of an intention held by the AI system. They are my interpretation as a listener and creator.

Those two minutes were not an empty space. They became, in my imagination, an orange grove waiting for dawn. Some sounds seem to require a period of silence before they can truly be heard.

AI did not consciously decide to wait. It was my listening that gave this unexpected introduction its poetic meaning.

3. Rhythm Civilization | Rootedness, Time, and the Will to Remain Steadfast

“Entrusted with its nature, it does not move; it grows in the southern land.”

In the natural world, trees grow through their relationship with soil, climate, and seasonal change. Their roots sustain them as they develop, flower, and bear fruit. Qu Yuan transforms this biological relationship into a literary symbol of human character. Yet the two should not be confused.

For the orange tree, remaining rooted is a matter of biology. For Qu Yuan, remaining steadfast is a matter of ethics. Between these two meanings stands the poet’s interpretation of the world.

My 2025 AI music experiment introduces a third dimension: the relationship between ancient writing and contemporary sound. The original poem belongs to the literary world of ancient Chu, while the digital melody was created with twenty-first-century technology. The words can endure across centuries, but every new performance belongs to its own moment in time.

The same orange tree represents conviction in Qu Yuan’s poetry and waiting in my experience of the AI-generated music. The written words have not changed. The person listening to them has.

From the perspective of my concept of Rhythm Civilization, this encounter raises a question rather than providing a definitive answer. When the world continually changes its pace, what does it mean for a person to remain steadfast? Must one remain in the same place, or can one preserve an inner direction while moving through changing circumstances?

The natural rhythm of the orange tree, the moral ideal expressed by Qu Yuan, and the unexpected temporal structure of digital music belong to different worlds. Their relationship is poetic and interpretive, not a scientific equivalence. Yet together, they invite us to consider how continuity and change may coexist.

Epilogue | The Orange Tree Remains in the South

“The mountains and rivers of Chu have witnessed centuries of change, yet the orange tree continues to grow within the poem.”

“Entrusted with its nature, it does not move; it grows in the southern land.”

More than two thousand years ago, Qu Yuan preserved the image of an orange tree in the literary memory of Chu civilization. The political world of ancient Chu has long disappeared, but the rivers continue to flow, the seasons continue to change, and Ju Song continues to be read.

The orange tree itself knows nothing of the rise and fall of kingdoms. It simply follows the rhythms of nature, growing and bearing fruit wherever the conditions allow. Yet within the poem, its rootedness has acquired a significance that extends far beyond its biological existence.

In the summer of 2025, I created a musical interpretation of Ju Song. The unexpected two-minute introduction gave the recording a sense of waiting before the ancient words finally emerged. What began as an unpredictable feature of AI-generated music became part of my understanding of the poem.

When the world continually changes its rhythm, how should we understand the determination to remain steadfast? Does it require us to stay in the land where we began, or to preserve our convictions while our lives continue to change?

The orange tree never left the southern land, yet it has travelled through more than two thousand years of poetry. A person may leave their homeland without necessarily losing their roots.

For a tree, remaining rooted is its nature. For a human being, remaining steadfast is a matter of will.

Across Civilizations

King Kaolie, Huang Xie, and Lady Lingyin | Why Does Lady Lingyin Travel While the Orange Tree Remains?

King Kaolie of Chu turned towards me with a puzzled expression. “Lady Lingyin, you were born in Taiwan, yet you now live in distant Germany. According to Qu Yuan’s praise of the orange tree, have you not already left your southern homeland?”

I could not help answering with another question. “Your Majesty, does leaving one’s homeland mean abandoning one’s convictions? An orange tree must grow with its roots in the soil. Human beings, however, can carry their culture with them wherever they go.”

The king remained unconvinced. “But Qu Yuan was quite clear. The orange tree was born to remain in the southern land. If remaining steadfast is such an admirable virtue, why did you choose to travel?”

Huang Xie, Lord Chunshen, gently put down his bamboo slips. “Your Majesty, an orange tree has its own nature, and a human being has a different path. If we interpret steadfastness as a prohibition against travelling, would we not misunderstand the poet?”

I smiled. “I have travelled from Taiwan to Germany, and I have also explored historical places in mainland China. I have visited ancient cities and rivers, and in Germany I have become particularly interested in the history of ships and inland waterways.”

King Kaolie suddenly looked alarmed. “Wait a moment, Lady Lingyin! I was discussing orange trees with you. How did we end up talking about your ships again?”

Huang Xie burst into laughter. “Your Majesty, you have no idea. Lady Lingyin has been studying German waterways, and she is particularly fascinated by old chain-towing vessels. She will not even leave those ancient ships alone!”

I laughed. “There are still many waterways I have not visited and many historical vessels I have yet to see. My field research is far from finished!”

King Kaolie shook his head in disbelief. “Now I understand. Qu Yuan admired the orange trees of the South, while Lady Lingyin admires the historic ships of Europe!”

Huang Xie looked towards the orange grove on the screen. “Your Majesty, there is no necessary contradiction. The orange tree sustains its life through its roots, while Lady Lingyin expands her understanding of the world through exploration.”

The king thought for a moment and then asked another question. “Then let me ask you both something. The orange tree remains because of its roots, while Lady Lingyin travels because she has chosen her own path. Which of these is more difficult?”

I looked at the orange trees on the screen and considered his question. A tree preserves its roots through its nature. A human being preserves a conviction through choices made again and again.

For a tree, remaining rooted is its destiny. For a person, remaining steadfast is an act of will. And the will to remain steadfast may be far more difficult to sustain than destiny itself.

A breeze passed through the imagined orange grove. The orange tree remained in the poetic landscape of the South, while my own boat was still on its journey.

Historical and literary note: The conversations in “Across Civilizations” are fictional literary dialogues featuring King Kaolie of Chu, Huang Xie (Lord Chunshen), and Lady Lingyin. They are imaginative reflections based on historical figures, Chu Ci · Jiu Zhang · Ju Song, and the author’s personal creative experiences. They are not accounts of actual historical conversations.