on the screen
in a dark theatre
my eyes betray me
once more
again
as a scene
too familiar
plays out
there
triggering
once more
again
a life long gone
but still
beating
in my heart
Month: March 2015
Lament for Peony Flowers by Bai Juyi
I grieve for the red peony flower by the steps.
By this evening two branches have withered.
Tomorrow morning wind will blow away the rest.
At night I keep sad watch, hold flame over the dying red.
translated by Tony Barnstone & Chou Ping
Black-Uniform Lane by Liu Yuxi: THERE IS A MISTAKE IN THE TITLE OF THIS POEM. IT SHOULD BE Bamboo Branch Song. Same poet, though. And I swear I wasn’t drinking..
Willows are green, green and the river water flat.
I hear a man on the river singing me songs
and see sun on my east, rain on my west.
The sun is shying off, but I feel his shine.
translated by Tony Barnstone & Chou Ping
On Laozi by Bai Juyi
“The ignorant speak, but the sage stay silent.”
I heard this saying from Laozi.
But if Laozi knew the Way,
why did he write a book of five thousand characters?
translated by Tony Barnstone & Chou Ping
on the lack of saints: in memory of some people I used to know
there were no saints
on those streets
you walked on
then
and now
wherever now is
just torn boys
turning into men
with conflicts raging
within
trying to live up
to some ideal
put upon you
carrying the scars
one gets
on body
on soul
and I
no longer your witness
carry you still
in my ravaged heart
she stands
at the center
of the world
arms outstretched
head tilted back
that neck exposed
a smile with the joy
of childhood
and I
at the edge
look inward
eyes drawn irresistibly
toward her
Moon by Xue Tao
Its spirit leans like a thin hook
or opens round like a Han-loom fan,
slender shadow whose nature is to be full,
seen everywhere in the human world.
translated by Tony Barnstone & Chou Ping
In the Style of Han Shan and Shih Te, Two Selections: Poem 1 by Wang An-shih
Had I been an ox or horse
I would rejoice to see grass and beans;
If, on the other hand, I were a woman,
the sight of men would please me.
But if I were really me
I would always settle for what I be.
If liking and dislike keep you upset
surely you are being used:
Big man, with all your dignity,
don’t mistake what you have for what you are.
translated by Jan W. Walls
In the Mountains by Wang An-shih
I follow the moon into the mountains,
I search for clouds to accompany me home.
A spring morning, dew on the flowers:
and the fragrance clings to my gown.
translated by Jan W. Walls
Hastily Composed on the Mo-ling Road by Wang An-shih
The harvest ripe, the farmers rejoice;
in the autumn wind the traveler alone grieves.
On and on winds this crooked road
and a homeward horse in the slanting sun.
translated by Jan. W. Walls
Leonard Durso 