I didn’t realize the year was so late
or living apart was so lonely
translated by Red Pine
poetry
A remembrance is moving by Juan Ramon Jimenez
A remembrance is moving
down the long memory, disturbing
the dry leaves with its delicate feet.
—Behind, the house is empty.
On ahead, highways
going on to other places, solitary highways,
stretched out.
And the rain is like weeping eyes,
as if the eternal moment were going blind—.
Even though the house is quiet and shut,
even though I am not in it, I am in it.
And. . .good-bye, you who are walking
without turning your head!
translated by Robert Bly
from Written on a Monastery Wall by Li Shang-yin
If we trust the true and sure words written on Indian leaves
We will hear all past and future in one stroke of the temple bell.
translated by A.C. Graham
Going Down the Lo by Boat from Kunghsien into the Yellow River: To My Colleagues in the Perfecture and County Governments by Wei Ying-wu
The narrow water the green hills and the road lead east
the peaks to the southeast make way for the Great River
leafless trees are indistinct on the far horizon
evening light shimmers and sinks in the flood
how long have I lived in this village on the Yi
the sky clears and a lone goose lands with the North Wind
my dear itinerant colleagues back at Loyang Bridge
my little boat is loose and with it is my heart
translated by Red Pine
On a Moonlit Night Meeting at Hsu Eleven’s Thatched Hut by Wei Ying-wu
In an empty study with nothing to do
you loosened your hair strings and waited for a friend
it wasn’t a night for reading
but for writing poems about the moon
after listening to the bell and sleeping in comfort
we rolled up dew-covered blinds
and sensed another fall was near
while the fading river tried to hold off dawn
translated by Red Pine
In Reply to Commissioner Ts’ui by Wei Ying-wu
A courtyard of bamboo and late-night snow
a lone lantern a book on the table
if I hadn’t encountered the teaching of no effort
how else could I have gained this life of leisure
translated by Red Pine
In Yangchou Unexpectedly Meeting Former Secretary Lu Keng of Loyang by Wei Ying-wu
In the land of Ch’u friends are rare
meeting you here was unexpected
I’ve kept your letters close to my heart
how strange to see white in your hair
our cups overflow with an innkeeper’s wine
our luggage is full of river-travel poems
may we ride forth together again
as we once did on Loyang Bridge
translated by Red Pine
The Third Day of the Third Month: To My Cousins and Thinking of Commissioner Ts’ui by Wei Ying-wu
The season seems to be ending early
this morning felt sadder still
the wind stirs a heartbreaking spring
and the pond chills a flowerless night
the longer I look at the wine
the clearer you become
who is that walking along the winding river
looking for my footprints and thinking of me
translated by Red Pine
Passing Shaolin Hermitage: To Friends in the Capital by Wei Ying-wu
I reined in my horse below a pine ridge
and hiked to the lookout on top
the trail appeared impassable as I started out
but once I arrived I wished it were longer
from the summit I heard a chorus of winds
in the woods I bathed in a secluded stream
the sound of a bell roused me on the Way
the evening chime cleared the clouds and mist
though my visit was brief
I finally saw what caused my troubles
but when I thought about building a hut
I knew it would have to wait for old age
translated by Red Pine
Climbing a Tower by Wei Ying-wu
I climb this tower every day and look out
at the passing years slipping into darkness
right now I’m sick of this post in Huainan
and all the red trees in these autumn hills
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 