A spring day
here at the world’s end

the world’s end where once again
the sun is going down

the oriole’s cry–
if it had tears

it could water the blossoms
on top of the trees.

translated by David Young

you tossed back
your long hair
straightened
your shoulders
and said
later
what’s left is
your scent
lingering
in the air
your smile
etched
in my mind
your promise
engraved
on my heart

I woke up one morning;
The sun came up to me;
I turned into birds and leaves;
They glittered in the spring breeze;
I turned into birds and leaves;
My arms and legs were rotting;
I turned into birds and leaves,
Birds
And leaves.

translated by Murat Nemet-Nejat

To the south-east–three thousand leagues–
The Yüan and Hsiang form into a mighty lake.
Above the lake are deep mountain valleys,
And men dwelling whose hearts are without guile.
Gay like children, they swarm to the tops of trees;
And run to the water to catch bream and trout.
Their pleasures are the same as those beasts and birds;
They put no restraint either on body or mind.
Far I have wandered throughout the Nine Lands;
Wherever I went such manners had disappeared.
I find myself standing and wondering, perplexed,
Whether Saints and Sages have really done us good.

translated by Arthur Waley

We are one half of an apple,
. . . . . . . . . .the other half is this big world.
We are one half of an apple,
. . . . . . . . . .the other half is our people.
You are one half of an apple,
. . . . . . . . . .the other half is me,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .us two. . .

translated by Randy Blasing & Mutlu Konuk

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains,–but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,–
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curied
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of…

the voices keep calling you
tormenting what passes for your soul
you know you must be leaving
but hang onto the day
days that run dawn to dusk
in a place you don’t belong
you try to kill that restless feeling
with responsibilities
obligations
with boundaries that bind
these things were tried before
this life you’ve lived before
and though you hear your name spoken
it is not the name you answer to
and there are voices on the wind
impossible to resist
this time there just isn’t much to hold you
and the names
the names you carry
send sorrow through the air
and the weight
the weight fills your lungs
and your mind
your perfect weapon
yearns to go down to the sea
and purify itself

the wind blows through rooms
it chills whoever sits there
shadows on the walls
frozen in time forever
like my heart now that you’re gone

She leans over me
the unknowing heart
to see if I love her
she is sure she forgets
under the clouds of her eyelids
her head falls asleep in my hands
where are we
together inseparable
living living
man and woman
my head rides in her dreams.

translated by Stuart Kendall