The boat rocks at anchor by the misty island
Sunset, my loneliness comes again.
In these vast wilds the sky arches down to the trees,
In the clear river water, the moon draws near.
translated by Gary Snyder
poetry
Spring Dawn by Meng Hao-jan
Spring sleep, not yet awake to dawn,
I am full of birdsongs.
Throughout the night the sounds of wind and rain
Who knows what flowers fell.
translated by Gary Snyder
For the Children by Gary Snyder
The rising hills, the slopes,
of statistics
lie before us.
the steep climb
of everything, going up,
up, as we all
go down.
In the next century
or the one beyond that,
they say,
are valleys, pastures,
we can meet there in peace
if we make it.
To climb these coming crests
one word to you, to
you and your children:
stay together
leave the flowers
go light
Seeing Guests Off at Governor Wang’s by T’ao Ch’ien
Autumn days bitter cold, the hundred plants
already in ruins–now footsteps-in-frost
season has come, we climb this tower to
offer those returning home our farewell.
In cold air shrouding mountains and lakes,
forever rootless, clouds drift. And all
those islands carry our thoughts far away,
across threatening wind and water. Here,
we watch night fall, delighting in fine food,
our lone sorrow this talk of separation.
Morning birds return for the night. A looming
sun bundles its last light away. Our roads
part here: you vanish, we remain. Sad,
we linger and look back–eyes seeing off
your boat grown distant, hearts settled in
whatever comes of the ten thousand changes.
translated by David Hinton
Earth Verse by GarySnyder
Wide enough to keep you looking
Open enough to keep you moving
Dry enough to keep you honest
Prickly enough to make you tough
Green enough to go on living
Old enough to give you dreams
How Poetry Comes to Me by Gary Snyder
It comes blundering over the
Boulders at night, stays
Frightened outside the
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the
Edge of the light
from The Book of Songs: Who Says the River Is Wide?: No. 61
Who says the river is wide?
On a reed you can cross it!
Who says Sung is far?
On tiptoe you can see it!
Who says the river is wide?
It won’t hold a sliver of a boat!
Who says Sung is far?
You can get there before the morning’s out!
translated by Burton Watson
Pepper Eyes by Sung Po-jen
lavishing poems on the first spring dawn
prayers for a thousand years
conquering winter and defying old age
outlasting the ice and the snow
translated by Red Pine
Fisherman’s Hat by Sung Po-jen
anchored out among the gulls
cold rain lashing his hat of leaves
he doesn’t mind fearsome waves
since discovering the joys afloat
translated by Red Pine
Crane on a Pine Crying to Heaven by Sung Po-jen
waking from a Red Cliff dream
black robe soaked with rain
trying to reach Heaven’s ear
it stands atop a pine
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 