A Bursa blade in her hand,
A red scarf around her neck.
You whittle sticks all day
In Filya field.
For you I’m digging under walls,
You’re climbing over them.
translated by George Messo
Month: September 2019
a new song
best not to sing
that old song
not now
not here
it’s not too late
to learn to sing
a new song
even now
right here
from a line by Li Po: aching heart
thousands of miles
countless years
cannot soothe
an aching heart
Gazing North by Wang An-shih
Hair whiter still, I ache to see those long-ago northlands,
but keep to this refuge: goosefoot staff, windblown trees.
Pity the poor moon: all that bright beauty, and for whom?
It’s dusk. Countless mountains face each other in sorrow.
translated by David Hinton
taking a cue from Wang An-shih: self-portrait
It’s been ages since I looked
so long in a mirror
as I did today
contemplating shaving
the grey stubble
on my chin
my cheeks
and wondered
how I came to be
this one
I set out
so long ago
to be
Dream by Wang An-shih
Knowing lifetimes are like dream, I search for nothing now.
Searching for nothing, a mind is perfectly empty, perfectly
quiet, and so deep in dream it traces borderlands of dream
clear through river and shoreline sands to the end of dream.
translated by David Hinton
Leonard Durso 