red wine
in my glass
the sun
on my face
a breeze
in the air
an image
in my head
a good day
to be thinking
of home
Month: January 2016
standing guard
palm trees
stand guard
against the sea
I stand mute
in admiration
While Traveling byChia Tao
With so much on my mind,
it’s hard to express myself in letters.
How long has it been since I left home?
Old friends are no longer young.
Frosted leaves fall into empty bird nests;
river fireflies weave through open windows.
I stop at a forest monk’s,
and spend the night in “quiet sitting.”
translated by Mike O’Connor
from Stones and Trees by Shih-shu
how pitiful, the feelings of the world
still, the hills are not afraid
with forests of trees to clothe them
the hunting ground of poems and verse
my heart is free as the white clouds
body light as a crimson leaf
apes and birds pull me forward
lusty as ever, we rise up–cross over
translated by James H. Sanford
After Shih-te by Shih-shu
I climb these hills as if walking on air
body too light to fall
bamboo staff resting against a great stone
torn cloak snapping in the wind
a lone bird soars the azure depths
far distant springs reflected in its eye
carefree, singing a timeless song
gone–on a journey without end
translated by James H. Sanford
from the series Don’t Ask: 11 by Ch’i-chi
Don’t ask if I’ve ceased wanting anything–
we all know the simile of the drifting clouds.
Excess wouldn’t fit the precepts:
take what comes and you’re never in doubt.
How happy, that worthy Yen!
Even the sage Confucius was poor.
Once you’ve passed the age of understanding
stop trying to change destiny’s course.
translated by Burton Watson
thoughts of home
the sun
comes goes
as do thoughts
of home
mountain poem 2 by Han-shan Te-ch’ing
A hundred thousand worlds are flowers in the sky
a single mind and body is moonlight on the water
once the cunning ends and information stops
at that moment there is no place for thought
translated by Red Pine
untitled mountain poem 1 by Han-shan Te-ch’ing
I follow my impulsive feet wherever they might go
my body is a pine tree surrounded by the snow
sometimes I simply stand beside a flowing stream
sometimes I chase a drifting cloud past another peak
translated by Red Pine
a vow made
It’s funny how you don’t think of someone for years until an email from an old friend tells you they are gone, and then, just like that, her face and all the faces you both knew a thousand years ago come flooding in. All the late night conversations in kitchens over coffee, the parties that raged from one night to the next, the in-jokes, the mugging, the partners changing and the pet turtles in a bowl named for all of you, these things, that had lay buried for years in some recess of the mind, are once again vivid, and painful, and funny, and precious, and you can’t stop remembering and wishing you had added more pictures of her, of them, all these long years that are now irretrievable once again.
And so you resolve in your mind, your heart, that you will not let that happen with those still present in what remains of this short interval between light and dark. This, a vow made in the early hours as the sun sneaks its way into the world.