Ruins: The Ku-su Palace by Li Po

The garden’s desert, crumbling walls, as willows green again.
Even the sweet song of spring’s a lament.
Nothing of what was, but the moon above the river,
moon that shone on a pretty face in the palace of the king of Wu.

translated by J.P. Seaton

poem 2 by Wang Fan-chih

Having power need not warp your heart and mind,
but if you cheat folks, you put yourself in danger.
Just look at the fire on the wood:
once it’s burned up the fuel, the fire’s gone, too.

translated by J.P. Seaton