Month: February 2014

untitled Chinese poem 1 by anonymous poet

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Going on always on and on
alive, but parted from you
gone ten thousand miles and more
each to a far edge of the sky

the road is hard and long
with nothing sure about meeting again
Tartar horses lean to the northern wind
Viet birds nest on southern boughs

days advance, the parting grows long
days advance, the sash grows loose
floating clouds hide the bright sun
the wanderer can think of no return

loving you I became old
suddenly the time is late–
enough I speak no more
try hard to stay well

translated by Charles Hartman

it could be worse

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sometimes you stand still
rather than walk on
and it works out
maybe not quite like
the way you anticipated
but not quite as bad
as it could have been
a victory of sorts
in a world where victory
is not just infrequent
but fleeting when it comes
so thank whomever whatever
you thank when you give thanks
and check out train schedules
for early departures
the next day

“The Weary Road” Two Sections: Section One by Pao Chao

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Water spilled on level ground
Runs east, west, south or north, and whichever way it pleases.
A man’s life is also governed by fate,
Then why must we always sigh as we journey and grieve as we sit?
Drink your wine to please yourself;
Raise your cup and forswear singing “The Weary Road.”
But since a man’s heart isn’t wood or stone,
How could it be without feeling?
Thus I weep, I hesitate, I dare not speak.

translated by Irving Y. Lo

Song of Woe by Shen Yüeh

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The wanderer was in love with the spring of the year
And the spring in love with the wanderer.
Languid sunbeams in the morning draped their splendor,
Gentle dew at dawn lay frozen by the ford.
Seasonal bird songs lilted through the new=grown leaves
While scented airs were stirring in the early duckweed.

Then one morning found me far from my old home,
Ten thousand li had come between me and that dawn.

translated by Richard B. Mather

from Deva-like Barbarian, Five Lyrics: Lyric Five by Wei Chunang

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Spring is bright and splendid in the city of Lo-yang;
But the man of Lo-yang grows old in another land.
The willows darken on the Prince of Wei’s embankment;
At this time I am confused and bewildered.

Alongside the blossoming peach, the spring waters run clear;
Mandarin ducks bathe in their freshness.
My regret gathers force in the setting sun;
I think of you, but you do not know it.

translated by Lois M. Fusek

just like Cyrano de Bergerac

/ zdunno03 / 7 Comments

I send my heart out
wrapped in tissue paper
a bow on top
the emotions spring forth
a river overflowing
these feelings I have
when your image appears
on the street before me
the way your eyes shine
when you tell an amusing story
the tilt of your head
when in conversation
your smile when you dance
your bold assertions
leave me without air
to twist and turn
unable to express
what must remain unspoken
and thus reduced to words
my inner character exposed
in what I write
in what I do
but never in what I say
I speak through fictional poses
to the one who exists
in my mind
hoping somehow you’ll hear
the song in my heart

A Purple Cloud by Sowol Kim

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A purple cloud drifts away
and the sky begins to clear.
The snow fallen stealthily in the night
bursts the pine grove into blossom.

Millions of flashing flakes
dazzle in the sunlight.

I gaze on them forgetful
of what happened during the night.

A purple cloud drifts away.

translated by Jaihiun Kim & Ronald B. Hatch

what was that all about

/ zdunno03 / 4 Comments

there are those moments
in life
when someone says
or does
something so astounding
either in brilliance or ignorance
that you go
what was that all about
and today
of all days
as I was out wandering
on these ancient streets
I had such a moment
and thought
they follow me
these people
halfway around the world
to keep me on my metaphoric toes
no sleepwalking here
for this long island kid
you can’t let your guard down
not for a moment
even if you think it’s safe
no sharks in sight
the water warm and inviting
uh huh
sure right
Norman Rockwell country
here in Turkey
but there is no safe harbor
no sign of relief
and no matter how hard you try
you just won’t get
what that was all about

Spring Ends by Li Ch’ing-chao

/ zdunno03 / 1 Comment

The wind stops.
Nothing is left of Spring but fragrant dust.
Although it is late in the day,
I have been too exhausted to comb my hair.
Our furniture is just the same,
But he no longer exists.
I am unable to do anything at all,
Before I can speak my tears choke me.
I hear that Spring at Two Rivers
Is still beautiful.
I had hoped to take a boat there,
But I am afraid my little boat
Is too small to ever reach Two Rivers,
Laden with my heavy heart.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung