My eyes cross with the flowers I invent,
with the clouds,
nailed to this ship that took me for a castaway.
translated by Katherine M. Hedeen
poetry
To Hope I Return, to the Wood by Carilda Oliver Labra
To hope I return, to the wood
that built my important days,
to the wayward spring
of times past.
To the justice of seeing it all
as if it belonged to me,
for when it’s said and done there’s no way
to abandon the hunger of the beast.
translated by Katherine M. Hedeen
from A Man by Attila İlhan
I am a man
another man
a vagabond
who dumped his youth headlong into the streets
and tossed away his hopes like pigeons
lost them time and time again
lost them in the graveyard of ships
in his cruel poems and songs
found them time and time again
then he dragged the dawn’s shrieks by the hair
there goes the sea and there goes he
there goes the cloud and there goes he
a man
a different man
a vagabond
translated by Talat S. Halman
untitled poem by Jahan Malek Khatun
Your face usurps the fiery glow and hue
of roses;
And with your face here, what have I to do
with roses?
Your ringlets’ fragrance is so sweet, my friend,
No fragrant rose-scent could entice me to
seek roses–
Besides, the faithless roses’ scent will fade,
Which is a serious drawback, in my view
of roses;
And if the waters of eternal life
Had touched their roots, so that they bloomed anew,
these roses,
When could they ever form a bud as sweet
As your small mouth, which is more trim and true
than roses?
translated by Dick Davis
from Tune: Yang-chou man (A Slow Song of Yangchow) Title: On 19 December 1853, the (Taiping) Rebels Are Approaching the Capital. Upon Hearing of the Recovery of Yangchow by Government Troops by Chiang Ch’un-lin
But what avails the common folk?
Under a dark moon, fireflies are drifting aimlessly;
The west wind sobs
Amidst ghost fires here and there.
But it hurts even more as I look toward the south:
Across the river, innumerable green-peaked hills!
translated by Irving Lo
A Miscellany on the Garden of Autumn Clouds: Peach-Blossom Pond by Sung Wan
Green water reflects scales of bright red;
Weeds and algae appear as clear as in a mirror.
When the fisherman rapped on his boat,
I thought it was petals falling.
translated by Yin-nan Chang
Ancient Sentiments by Wu Wei-yeh
My love is like the silk on the loom,
To be woven into a Tree of Longing.
I’m like the blossoms on your cloth coat
Which no spring wind can deflower.
translated by Irving Lo
from Chen-chou Quatrains by Wang Shih-chen: No. 1
At dawn I climb a river tower to its very highest storey,
The gentle and delicate look of departing sail is hard to bear.
The tide stretches a thousand yards below White Sands Pavilion;
Sending a homesick heart all the way back to Mo-ling.
translated by David Bryant
Chatting about the Past with the Elder (Ching-jen) by Hung Liang-chi
All ambitions of youth yield place to calamities;
Parted as in a dream–reunited, we can’t trust our eyes.
Shall we match our strength in climbing one more mountain?
Winning fame in literature, there’s you alone.
In a sea of dust, we still can tarry for a little while;
Or sit in a granary of books, all day, without food.
This morning I took myself to Yen Pavilion for a look,
Trying to find the leanest horse to ride down the capital street.
translated by Irving Lo
from The Girl in Memory by Yang Lian
Names spread in all directions like a breeze
That starts with you yet also dreams beyond your breath
And is forgotten not far away beneath the ground
Or even very far away walks into the room that yearns for you
Even though you have never entered it
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Leonard Durso 