The wind blows the line out from his fishing pole.
In a straw hat and grass cape the fisherman
Is invisible in the long reeds.
In the fine spring rain it is impossible to see very far
And the mist rising from the water has hidden the hills.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Lovely. Jeff Schwaner just introduced me to Kenneth Rexroth’s translations — wonderful sensibilities.
Yes. His translations were my first introduction to Chinese & Japanese poetry back in my undergraduate days, so I have a special fondness for him.
Ou Yang Hsiu was apparently very good friends with my 11th century drinking buddy Mei Yao-Ch’en! He seemed to be the Andrew Marvell of his time, able to weather political tempests a bit better than some of his contemporaries while still able to knock out a memorable verse here and there. Not a bad life!
Yes, his was. Mei Yao-Ch’en’s life, though, seems to be marked by tragedy.
Right. Mei was Milton to Ou-yang’s Marvell. Or, I guess, in the words of Willy Wonka, “Wait a minute…Strike that. Reverse it. Thank you.”
No, I think you got it right the first time.
But I like the reference to Willy Wonka.
Wonka is one of my favorites. What I meant is that I should have said Milton was Mei to Marvell’s Ou-yang, given that our Sung dynasty friends beat them to the punch by a couple-five hundred years or so.
Wang Wei…Willy Wonka…hmmm…
Pingback: And the mist rising from the water has hidden the hills. – a r t x q c
Pingback: self portrait in ink – a r t x q c