On heaven’s wind, a sea traveler
wanders by boat through distances.

It’s like a bird among the clouds:
once gone, gone without a trace.

translated by David Hinton

How many times will I see spring green
again, or yellow birds tireless in song?

The road home ends at the edge of heaven.
Here beyond the river, my old hair white,

my heart flown north to cloudy passes,
I’m shadow in moonlit southern mountains.

My life a blaze of spent abundance, my old
fields and gardens buried in weeds, where

am I going? It’s year’s end, and I’m here
chanting long farewells at heaven’s gate.

translated by David Hinton

Autumn wind clear,
autumn moon bright,

fallen leaves gather in piles, then scatter,
and crows settling-in, cold, startle away.

Will we ever see, ever even think of each other again?
This night, this moment: impossible to feel it all.

translated by David Hinton

2

In the Po-ko night, a long wind howls.
Streams and valleys turn suddenly cold.

Fish and dragons roaming shoreline waters,
billows surge and waves swell everywhere.

Though heaven’s loaned its moon, bright
moon come soaring over emerald clouds,

I can’t see my old home anywhere. Heart-
stricken, I face west and look and look.

translated by David Hinton

1

Where could evening wandering be so fine?
Here along Po-ko shores, the moon bright,

mountain light trembles on drifted snow,
and gibbon shadow hangs from cold branches.

Only when this exquisite light dies away,
only then I turn my oars and start back.

When I came, it was such bright clear joy.
Now, it’s all these thoughts of you again.

translated by David Hinton

I love this T’ung-kuan joy. A thousand
years, and still I’d never leave here.

It makes me dance, my swirling sleeves
sweeping all Five-Pine Mountain clean.

Translated by David Hinton