Dark and dim, the Bamboo Grove Monastery,
Faint and faraway, the sound of bells at dusk.
Your bamboo hat carrying home the evening sun,
Alone you return to the distant green hills.
translated by Dell R. Hales
poetry
from an untitled poem by Han Shan
Time is like a flowing river—
One day, we wake up old men.
translated bvy Eugene Eoyang
Presented in a Farewell to Secretary Fu by Pao Chao
The nimble swan plays in the river pool;
The lonely goose comes to roost on the island sand bar.
For a while by chance the two of us were close,
In thought and feeling together without a break.
Wind and rain blew us apart, east and west;
Once parted we drifted for ten thousand leagues.
I pursue my memories of the times we stayed together,
Your voice and appearance fill my mind and ears.
As the sun falls, the river isles grow cold;
Mournful clouds rise and enfold the heavens.
These short wings cannot soar aloft;
And hesitate here amid the mist and fog.
translated by Daniel Bryant
A Spring Song of Tzu-yeh by Hsiao Yen
On the stairway fragrance assails the bosom;
In the garden flowers light the eye.
Once the spring heart is like this,
Love comes without bounds.
translated by Jan W. Walls
Jade Steps Plaint by Hsieh T’iao
Palace at dusk, the pearl blind is lowered,
Drifting fireflies glide and come to rest;
Through the long night I sew a fine silk jacket–
My thoughts of you, when will they end?
translated by Ronald C. Miao
from On the Border: poem 3 by Kuan Hsiu
In Green Mound Cave, they say
a white wolf dwells.
Once in a while it comes out
looks east, and howls
and howls
and howls.
Paint that for me, if you can,
my painter friend.
translated by J.P. Seaton
from Drinking Wine by T’ao Ch’ien
Perhaps a man, in time, may get beyond the clothing
of conventional ideas. . .
translated by J.P. Seaton
from Songs of My Heart’s Ideals: 3 by Juan Chi
Gently, the breeze at my silken sleeves;
the moon: bright as ice. . .
The rooster, in the treetops, crows.
I’ll saddle my horse: it’s time to go home.
translated by J.P. Seaton
from Songs of My Heart’s Ideals 2: by Juan Chi
I stand here, and gaze upon
the evergreens of Mount Chingham.
They are comfort, solace, for my heart.
translated by J.P. Seaton
from Song of My Heart’s Ideals by Juan Chi
But pacing there I find my heart turns to friends and loved ones,
and all’s a sudden dark again.
So I send these poems by the eastward-singing birds. . .
Purging my heart of all the words
that could give form to sadness.
translated by J.P. Seaton
Leonard Durso 