Little boat with no treadboard
crossing the straits,
take care!
The hail pelts wildly
and the swift wind sweeps in

translated by Burton Watson & Hiroaki Sato

voices sing upstairs
a sad melancholy tune
hands slap on drum skins
beat to underscore singing
softly below I too chant

what were you doing
going forward going back
such indecision
too late comes the time wishing
you just came forward to me

the past comes calling
knocking on a virtual door
in unexpected searches
on google
names faces dates
a litany of information
that one had tried
so hard
to forget
there it is
a reminder of events
one did participate in
and words said
promises made
some kept
others broken
in black and white
on a computer screen
like it or not
one cannot disappear
from anyone
even one’s self
so we come
into each other’s lives
and memory
once triggered
is like Banquo’s ghost
there to imply the words
left unspoken

An unknown evening hour
Of a station with an age-old platform, sadness
By my side, I knew no direction.

I had left you up there, in the sky
Dark were the trees and the road
Dark were your white clothes.

The night, that treasure, foreign stone
Your window was above the trees
No voice or iron can save me now.

Here I am in the hours
The hours are nowhere, no
Not in this direction, not in that.

I had left you up there, in the sky.

translated by Şehnaz Tahir-Gürçağlar

Here we part.
You go off in the distance,
And once more the forested mountains
Are empty, unfriendly.
What holiday will see us
Drunk together again?
Last night we walked
Arm in arm in the moonlight,
Singing sentimental ballads
Along the banks of the river.
Your honor outlasts three emperors.
I go back to my lonely house by the river,
Mute, friendless, feeding the crumbling years.