Author: zdunno03

To Tzu-an by Yü Hsüan-chi

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A thousand goblets at the farewell feast
can’t dilute my sorrow,
my heart at separation is twisted
in a hundred unyielding knots.
Tender orchids wilt and wither,
return to the garden of spring;
willow trees, here and there,
moor travelers’ boats.
In meeting and parting I lament
the unsettled clouds;
love and affection should learn from the river
in flowing on and on.
I know we won’t meet again
in the season of blossoms,
and I won’t sit by quietly
drunk in my chamber.

translated by Jan W. Walls

A Mountain Walk by Tu Mu

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Climbing far into the cold mountains, the rocky path steepens
and houses grow rare. Up here where white clouds are born,

I stop to sit for a while, savoring maple forests in late light,
frost-glazed leaves lit reds deeper than any spring blossoms.

translated by David Hinton

Autumn Dream by Tu Mu

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Frosty skies open empty depths of wind.
Moonlight floods fulling-stones clarities.

As the dream ends, I am dying at night:
I am beside a beautiful woman, thoughts

deepening–a leaf trees shed in the dark,
a lone goose leaving borderlands behind.

Then I’m in travel clothes, setting out,
heart and mind all distances beyond sky.

translated by David Hinton

enchantress

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what’s in a name
one asks
then it is apparent
they are tags
to our lives
her name is
enchantress
her spirit captivates
a streak of fire
in her soul
there’s magic
in her smile
a spell
is being cast
so trend softly
Circe turned men
into swine
to keep a wanderer
captive
there are dangers
on this journey
called life
one-eyed giants
violent storms
sirens’ songs
one can ride out
a storm
plug one’s ears
to a siren’s songs
fool one-eyed giants
with a club
all it takes
is your wits
to hold onto
your life
but this enchantress
is more dangerous
she will snatch
something more valuable
which your wits
cannot protect
your heart

Taking A Trail Up From Deva-king Monastery To The Guesthouse Where My Friend Wang Chung-hsin And I Wrote Our Names On A Wall Fifty Years Ago, I Find The Names Still There by Lu Yu

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Meandering these greens, azure all around, you plumb antiquity.
East of the wall, above the river, stands this ancient monastery,

its thatched halls we visited so long ago. You a mountain sage,
I here from Wei River northlands: we sipped wine, wrote poems.

Painted paddle still, I drift awhile free. Then soon, I’m nearing
home, azure walking-stick in hand, my recluse search ending.

Old friends dead and gone, their houses in ruins, I walk through
thick bamboo, deep cloud, each step a further step into confusion.

translated by David Hinton

Night at the Tower by Tu Fu

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Yin and Yang cut brief autumn days short. Frost and snow
Clear, leaving a cold night open at the edge of heaven.

Marking the fifth watch, grieving drums and horns erupt as
A river of stars, shadows trembling, drifts in Three Gorges.

Pastoral weeping–war heard in how many homes? And tribal
Songs drifting from the last woodcutters and fishermen. . . . .

Chu-ko Liang, Pai-ti: all brown earth in the end. And it
Opens, the story of our lives opens away. . . .vacant, silent.

translated by David Hinton

note: Chu-ko Liang & Pai-ti were both state ministers: one famous, the other infamous. Thus,Tu Fu uses another set of opposites in this poem.

Moonlit Night by Tu Fu

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Tonight at Fu-chou, this moon she watches
Alone in our room. And my little, far-off
Children, too young to understand what keeps me
Away, or even remember Ch’ang-an. By now,

Her hair will be mist-scented, her jade-white
Arms chilled in its clear light. When
Will it find us together again, drapes drawn
Open, light traced where it dries our tears?

translated by David Hinton

6th Moon, 27th Sun: Sipping Wine at Lake-View Tower by Su Tung-p’o

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I

Black clouds, soaring ink, nearly blot out these mountains.
White raindrops, skipping pearls, skitter wildly into the boat,

then wind comes across furling earth, scatters them away,
and below Lake-View Tower, lakewater suddenly turns to sky.

II

Setting animals loose–fish and turtles–I’m an exile out here,
but no one owns waterlilies everywhere blooming, blooming.

This lake pillows mountains, starts them glancing up and down,
and my breezy boat wanders free, drifts with an aimless moon.

translated by David Hinton