The best of poetry comes from the destitute, but my pocket is not yet empty;
I gather, it’s all because I haven’t perfected my skill as a poet.
Having fish to eat or bear’s paw? I admit, I’m greedy for both;
I yearn for skill in poetry, yet how I dread being poor!
translated by Irving Lo
To transmit my mind, one bright moon,
And bury my bones beneath ten thousand plum-blossoms.
translated by Irving Lo
See the rat–at least it’s got a hide,
but a man with no manners,
a man with no manners–
why doesn’t he just die!
See the rat–at least it’s got teeth,
but a man with no decorum,
a man with no decorum–
what’s keeping him! why doesn’t he die?
See the rat–at least it’s got legs,
but a man without courtesy,
a man without courtesy–
why doesn’t he hurry up and die!
translated by Burton Watson
Down the bright lane. no carriage that does not follow the rut;
on the somber road, who but ghosts go there?
Sages, wise men–they too have departed–
Hold life close, have no regret!
translated by Burton Watson
Old and young alike die a single death,
wise and foolish are not allotted different fates.
Your daily wine may help you to forget,
but I fear it’s a pasttime that shortens your years.
Doing good, you say, will be your joy?
And who do you think will praise you?
Too much pondering may injure one’s life;
better leave everything to fate.
Go along with the waves in the great process of change,
take no delight in it, have no fear.
When it’s time to fade away, then fade away—
why should you alone be so full of care?
translated by Burton Watson
In this green world
Flowers birds are hands
They hold me
I am loved all day
All this pleases me
I am amused
I have to laugh from crying
Trees mountains are arms
I am loved all day
Children grass are tears
I cry
I am loved all day
Everything
Pompous makes me laugh
I am amused often enouıgh
In this
My beautiful green world
O there’s love all day
Do me that love
As a tree, tree
Where birds and wind
Sing though they know
How real night is
And no one can
Go on for long
In any way
Do me that love
Do me that love
As the rain, rain
That has voices
In it, the greats’
The fools’, poor dead
From old weathers—
Lives considered
And rejected
As ours will be.
The rain comes down
And flowers grow
On the graves of
Our enemies
Do me that love
She is the prettiest of creatures
All like a queen is she
I have made a paper wheel
And I pin it to her dress
We lie together sometimes
And it is as nice as music
When you are half asleep
And then we want to cry because
We are so clean and warm
And sometimes it is raining
And the little drops scuttle
Like the feet of angels on the roof
Mine is not the long life of Sung or Ch’iao,
who can hope to be immortal like them?
With pleasures I will ease my heart,
take care to live out my hundred years!
translated by Burton Watson
The feeling of separation, what is there to say
But that the heart is an endless river of stars.
translated by William R. Schultz
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
An 'erm, what I doing with my life?' cabaret.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet and author by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Leonard Durso 