standing
on the balcony
shoulders hunched
against the cold
night air
erasing
all thoughts
of yesterdays
ignoring
tomorrows
numb
to what passes
for today
talking
my mind
to the moon
Month: January 2015
from the Book of Songs: You Took Ship
You took ship: floating, floating, noonday sun.
I’ll swear my heart dwelt upon you,
in my heart you dwell secure.
You took ship: floating, floating, away.
I’ll swear my heart dwells with you:
go freely, stay safe.
translated by J.P. Seaton
Everyday by Li Shang-yin
Everyday the light of spring competes with the light of the sun.
In the hilly town, by the slanting road, the apricot flowers are sweet.
When will my train of thought be free from all cares
And follow the floating gossamer a hundred feet long?
translated by James J.Y. Liu
On the Shore of the World by Li Shang-yin
A spring day on the shore of the world–
On the shore of the world the sun is slanting again.
If the oriole’s cry had tears,
They should wet the highest flower for me!
translated by James J.Y. Liu
Zaren on Jingting Mountain by Li Bai (Li Po)
The birds have vanished down the sky
and now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.
translated by Sam Hamill
Turkish coffee: for Chuck who insisted on one with a picture
jumpstart
my day
enrich
a conversation
stimulate
the night
anytime
all the time
my version
of Turkish Delight
from Book of Songs: White Moonrise
The white rising moon
is your bright beauty
binding me in spells
till my heart’s devoured.
The light moon soars
resplendent like my lady,
binding me in light chains
till my heart’s devoured.
Moon in white glory,
you are the beautiful one
who delicately wounds me
till my heart’s devoured.
translated by Tony Barnstone & Willis Barnstone
Written while Traveling on the Kweilin Road by Li Shang-yin
In this warm country, there is no autumn hue;
Over the clear river, a bright sunset.
Buzz, buss–a few remaining cicadas,
Still reluctant to bid the traveler farewell.
In the small village a dog guards me;
On the flat sand, a monk alone returns.
I wish to gaze toward the northwest,
But all I see are partridges flying again!
translated by James J.Y. Liu
At Ch’iu-pu Lake by Li Po
White hair! Three thousand yards of it.
And a sadness, a sorrow, as long.
I don’t understand. Where did my bright mirror
find all this autumn frost?
translated by J.P. Seaton
Home Thoughts by Li Shang-yin
Though there is a tower with railings to lean on,
How can I do without wine to pour?
Dank clouds hang over the mountain range in spring;
The river moon shines clear and bright at night.
The fish are disturbed–to whom can letters be entrusted?
The apes cry sadly–my dreams are easily startled.
My old home adjoined the Imperial Park:
It was the time when the oriole moved to the tall tree.
translated by James J.Y. Liu
Leonard Durso 