three days/nights of drinking
have left me walking
tilted to the side
eyes not quite focused
and I can’t feel
my teeth
perhaps too much wine
you think
’cause clearly
I don’t
Month: June 2014
Looking for Chienchi TempleWaterfall by Wei Ying-wu
Treading precipitous rocks I cross the rushing water
and clamber up a towering cliff to enjoy a suspended stream
but seals of office still weigh my body down
if only someone took them back I could cut my worldly ties
translated by Red Pine
Seeing Off Quartermaster Yuan Returning to Kwangling by Wei Ying-wu
With office work slack I can slip away
we like our goodbyes sweet
there’s nothing left where you grew up
you’re going home to another place
the full moon above mountains of Ch’u
the midnight bell in the land of Huai
where will your lone boat anchor
it’s so far my heart turns away
translated by Red Pine
Accompanying Censor Yuan on an Outing in Spring by Wei Ying-wu
Where is that drunken spring wind
west of Ch’ang-an or east
if we hadn’t both resigned
we wouldn’t be here together
in Hsuanping Quarter buying wine on credit
or looking for flowers in Hsiayuan Garden
coming and going on willow-lined paths
still dodging those calico horses of the past
translated by Red Pine
on looking back
there are words
left unspoken
actions
left undone
there is less here
than what at first
met the eye
paper thin relations
like so many
facebook friends
Parting by Gu Cheng
In spring,
You delicately waved your handkerchief.
Were you telling me to go far away?
Or to come back at once?
No, it doesn’t mean anything
And doesn’t amount to anything.
It’s like a flower fallen into the river,
Like a pearl of dew resting on the flower.
Only the shadows comprehend,
Only the wind perceives,
Only the richly colored butterfly startled by a sigh
Keeps flying back over the heart of the flower. . .
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Far and Close by Gu Cheng
You
Look a while at me,
Look a while at a cloud.
I feel
You are far away while looking at me,
So very close while looking at the cloud.
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
reflections: what my father left me
in the mirror
my father’s face
in my arms
his strength
in my mind
his thirst for knowledge
in my heart
his love
his gifts to me
still reverberating
these many years
after he’s gone
a tiny corner of heaven
standing naked
at 2:30am
in my kitchen
eating cold chicken
olives
an avacado salad
drinking white wine
after reading Pete Hamill
on NYC
no one watching
even the cat asleep
in another room
if that ain’t heaven
at least a tiny corner
of it
I don’t know
what is
walking along the shore
sea breeze rustles my hair
friends share a laugh
on a bench
water, cold water
for sale
mussels & rice
on the half shell
skateboards & bikes
two men asleep
on the nearby grass
this stroll
soon a memory
of my life
in Kadiköy
filed away
with things
worth remembering
overshadowing things
to forget
Leonard Durso 