Below the city, where the Pa River’s water flows,
spring comes like yeast-powder spiriting wine:
beaches feel soft as the Wei’s meandering shores,
and cliffs bring memories of T’ien-chin Bridge,
but fresh yellow willows dip their shadows here,
and tiny white duckweed blossoms scent the air.
Sitting beside swelling water, I scratch my head:
all this grief and sorrow, and whose is it anyway?
translated by David Hinton
Month: August 2022
4am, August 11, in Moda
there is no breeze
on this dark night
just tea grown cold
and a cat crying
in the distance
and I not immune
to that mournful sound
here
5000 miles away
from the past
but not far
from the ghosts
that haunt it
still
from Climbing Mount Chang to visit the temple by Su Dongpo
life is like the morning dew
fading fast
white hair overtakes us
pressing day and night.
Let it go, friends,
what else is there to say?
Everything eventually
will turn to blowing ashes.
translated by Jiann I. Lin & David Young
Baby’s First Bath by Su Dongpo
Parents raising children
hope they will become
intelligent and wise
but all my life
I’ve been the victim
of my own cleverness
all I want for my kids
is that they be
ignorant and stupid
so they can grow into
high-ranking nobles
free from misfortunes and suffering.
translated by Jiann I. Lin & David Young
Farewell to My Day Lilies and Cassia by Po Chü-i
No longer Prefect, this isn’t home anymore.
I planted day lillies and cassia for nothing.
Cassia renowned for enticing us to stay on,
day-lilies never making it sorrow forgotten:
they’re a far cry from this riverside moon,
come lingering our farewell step after step.
translated by David Hinton
Leonard Durso 