Out walking and singing of cooler days
I think of you on this autumn night
pinecones falling on deserted slopes
the recluse I suspect not yet asleep
translated by Red Pine
poetry
Looking for Chienchi TempleWaterfall by Wei Ying-wu
Treading precipitous rocks I cross the rushing water
and clamber up a towering cliff to enjoy a suspended stream
but seals of office still weigh my body down
if only someone took them back I could cut my worldly ties
translated by Red Pine
Seeing Off Quartermaster Yuan Returning to Kwangling by Wei Ying-wu
With office work slack I can slip away
we like our goodbyes sweet
there’s nothing left where you grew up
you’re going home to another place
the full moon above mountains of Ch’u
the midnight bell in the land of Huai
where will your lone boat anchor
it’s so far my heart turns away
translated by Red Pine
Accompanying Censor Yuan on an Outing in Spring by Wei Ying-wu
Where is that drunken spring wind
west of Ch’ang-an or east
if we hadn’t both resigned
we wouldn’t be here together
in Hsuanping Quarter buying wine on credit
or looking for flowers in Hsiayuan Garden
coming and going on willow-lined paths
still dodging those calico horses of the past
translated by Red Pine
Parting by Gu Cheng
In spring,
You delicately waved your handkerchief.
Were you telling me to go far away?
Or to come back at once?
No, it doesn’t mean anything
And doesn’t amount to anything.
It’s like a flower fallen into the river,
Like a pearl of dew resting on the flower.
Only the shadows comprehend,
Only the wind perceives,
Only the richly colored butterfly startled by a sigh
Keeps flying back over the heart of the flower. . .
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Far and Close by Gu Cheng
You
Look a while at me,
Look a while at a cloud.
I feel
You are far away while looking at me,
So very close while looking at the cloud.
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
A Philosophy of Saws by Liu Shahe
True. The saws are sawing wood,
But wood is also sawing the saw.
Thus saws are becoming dull–
The more they are sharpened the frailer they get,
And eventually they break.
The wood sawn into boards
Is fashioned into furniture.
Saws just break
And are discarded.
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
a analogy for oppressed people everywhere to keep in mind
My Optimism by Shao Yanxiang
I’m an adult
My optimism is adult too
My optimism
Doesn’t smile all the time
It has rolled in the mud
It’s been struck on an anvil
It burst out into sparks under the hammer
It burned in a bonfire that almost went out
For a while people scornfully called it dead ash
It has been worked over with nightsticks
Jerked around every which way
Then floated downriver chilled to the bone
None of its fibres
Is tainted by even a speck of dust
It doesn’t wear coveralls
Not my optimism
My optimism
Isn’t a coat
That you sometimes put on and then take off
Nor does it have a pocket with a conscience inside
That you could sometimes bring with you
Or sometimes leave at home
My optimism
leaped into my arms
And it warmed it up with my body heat
After it had been trampled when those
Who had once embraced it cast it aside
I warmed it up
And it warmed me
Double-crossed
And reported on in secret
It grew up step by step
Yet without encountering obstacles
Without a taste of mean tricks
How could my optimism become adult?
Adult optimism
Isn’t always sweet
Sometimes its face is bathed in tears
I once heard it choking back sobs
But it woke out of its grief
Caught my hand
Comforted my heart
Propped my head in both hands
And tried gently to console me
With a tune that only parents would use for a child
Hello old friend inseparable as body and shadow
My long-suffering weather-beaten optimism
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Inscription Seen on a Trip to Bao Ji by Liu Shahe
Being misunderstood by someone
Is vexation
Being misunderstood by everyone
Is tragedy
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
from Purple Starfish by Xu Demin
And I could not help regretting
That I made decorative patterns on my desk
Of your solidified tears
Now I have set up a miniature gravestone
In the quiet of my heart
If I had not known of your worldly existence
My heart would not have grown this heavy
Not all kindness
Gets the respect it deserves
Not all injuries
Are premeditated a long time
O starfish
Let’s be friends
My heart will be your forest of coral
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Leonard Durso 