Two camellia trees
facing each other
wonder who planted them?

I’ve come by myself
to visit them
in this fine drizzle

I wanted to talk with them
but that won’t happen
they are beyond language

brilliantly, thoroughly red,
as if on fire
blooming here in snow.

translated by Jiann I. Lin & David Young

Who can say how life should look?
We are like swans that walk on slushy snow,

leaving their muddy footprints,
and when they soar, go off in what direction?

The old monks died, the new pagoda’s built,
ruined walls and old inscriptions vanish.

Then why do we still recall the tumult,
long roads, exhausted travelers, crippled braying donkeys?

translated by Jiann I. Lin & David Young

This year I plant it myself,
using my own hands.

Somebody asked me what year
I went away?

Another year,
and I came back again.

The little tree waves and shakes,
same as my hurting heart.

translated by Jiann I. Lin & David Young

The flowering pear trees
are like white frost
the willows a deep green

willow catkins float past
flowers fill the city

I have a sense of sadness
that comes from watching
a couple of snowy pear trees

how many Qing Ming festivals
are left for me to witness
in this brief lifetime?


translated by Jiann I. Lin & David Young

I have not seen Master Li
this long time
His pretended madness
—what a truly pitiable thing!
the whole world
wants to be rid of him
I alone cherish his talent
So nimble-witted
he can write
thousands of poems
forced to walk the roads
drinking country wine
On K’uang Shan
his old study
—when his hair is white
it might be best
to go back there

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vincent McHugh

What corner of earth
haven’t you been to?
and tonight
you’re here
in a friendly glow
Your village home
—you’ve been away
a long time
The war
not over yet

Wicker lamp getting dim
still a flick’ring light
snow
falling heavy without a sound
What a lot of things
you have seen and heard!
You must talk and talk
until morning

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vincent McHugh

You ask when I’m coming back
The date not set yet
On Pa Shah
night rain
brimming autumn pools
Ah! when shall we
at western window
trim candles together
and gossip about
night’s rain on Pa Shan?

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vince nt McHugh

Spring mountains
Fog about to disperse
Sky clear
stars few
A fading moon
shines on your cheek
We cry at parting
as the day comes up

So many words
but the feeling
strong as ever
Turning your head
to look back
you call over and over
“Remember the Green-Skirt Girl
and everywhere on earth
be tender with the grass”

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vincent McHugh

Ha! Never make light
of a cup of wine—
it can pour out
our whole lives!

translated by C. H. Kwock & Vincent McHugh