Haven’t seen my friend Li Po for some time:
It’s really too bad, his feigning madness.
The whole world would want him executed,
Save I,who cherrish his abilities.
A thousand fine and spirited poems he’s written,
With a cup of wine, and wandering in solitude.
Here I am in K’uang Shan, where he used to study:
He’d do worse than come back—now that his hair’s turned white.
translated by Eugene Eoyang
poetry
A Clear Stream in Ch’ih-chou by Tu Mu
I’ve played all day in the stream. Not twilight’s yellow
lights autumn’s destined coming, root of this white hair.
What is it I’ve trusted you to rinse a thousand times away,
until not, the dust fouling my brush-tip leaves no trace?
translated by David Hinton
Bidding Farewell by Chong Chi-sang
A single leaf falls in the yard.
Near my desk, crickets chirp sadly.
I know I cannot hold you here.
I wonder where your journey will take you.
My longing will follow you to where the mountains end,
As I seek you in my dream on a moonlit night.
When the spring river ripples green along the bank,
I beg you not to forget your promise to return.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Stepping off the Rain by Yi Gok
A mansion guarded by an elm stands by the road;
Its tall gate was built for prosperous posterity.
Now its dwellers have moved away, no cart comes by—
Only the passerby step in to avoid the rain.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Waiting for My Love by Nung-un
My love said he would come at moonrise;
The moon has risen, but he has not come.
I presume that where my love lives
The mountain is so high the moon rises slowly.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
After Saying Farewell by So Yongsugak
After seeing off my love when dusk fell on the mountains,
I returned to lie down where white clouds float above.
Against the old wall a lyre is leaning—
To be strummed by the wind from the pines.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
On a Spring Day by Wang Paek
After last night’s fog soaked my thatched roof,
Peach blossoms near the bamboo are suddenly in full bloom.
Drunk with wine, I forget the snowy streaks of my hair—
I wear a flowery crown, standing in the spring breeze.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Elegy for Myself by Ki Joon
When the sun sets, the sky is inky dark;
Deep in the mountains, the ravine is cloudy.
All the human wishes retained for a thousand years
Are finally fulfilled by a single mound.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Mezcal by Damaris Calderon
At the bottom
of a bottle
of mezcal
–like at the end–
waiting for us
is the worm.
I chew
in dry earth
that whiteness
of living hedgerows
to know
the taste
of what will eat me.
translated by Katherine M. Hedeen
Metals by Anton Arrufat
What do you think of the word metal?
Do you like it?
If I say,
the metal of your voice,
do you like it?
Metal sounds,
shimmers, endures.
Gleams in the dirt
of excavations.
“It’s a metal,” says
the Egyptologist’s helper.
A metal in Etruria,
in Uxmal,
in the remote
city of Ur.
A metal,
the metal of your voice.
translated by Katherine M. Hedeen
Leonard Durso 