I get drunk alone, sober up alone,
the night air boundlessly fresh.
I’ll send word to the monk Shao,
have him bring his zither and play under the moon,
and then we’ll board a little boat
and in the night go down the Ts’ang-wu rapids.

translated by Burton Watson

Who planted banana trees in front of my window?
Their shadows fall in the midst of the courtyard.
Their shadows fall in the midst of the courtyard.
Leaves like hearts, leaves like hearts,
That open and close with excess of love.
Midnight, rain, on the leaves saddens my own heart.
Dien! Di! Dien! Di! Bitter cold, unceasing rain.
Drip! Drop! Drip! Drop! Bitter cold, unceasing rain.
Loneliness. Loneliness.
Sorrow corrodes this exile from the North.
How can I bear to lie awake and listen?

translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung

I stand on a high tower
And look out over jumbled mountains
And wilderness plains
And thin gleaming mist—
Thin gleaming mist.
As the raven’s fly home to roost,
Bugles ring out against the sunset sky.
The incense has faded,
But some wine remains.
My arms embrace nothing but remorse.
The wu-t’ung leaves fall—
The wu-t’ung leaves fall.
Autumn colors return.
My desolation returns.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung

Deep in the silent inner room
Every fiber of my soft heart
Turns to a thousand strands of sorrow.
I loved the Spring,
But the Spring is gone
As rain hastens the falling petals.
I lean on the balustrade,
Moving from one end to the other.
My emotions are still disordered.
Where is he?
Withered grass stretches to the horizon
And hides from sight
Any road by which he might return.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung