A telegraph pole
Reminds me of a swallow
A swallow of a journey
Although a swallow once used to
Make me think of home
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
Bread and Stars by Oktay Rıfat
Bread on my knee
Stars in the distance far in the distance
I’m eating bread and looking at the stars
I’m so intensely lost in thought
That by mistake I eat
A star instead of bread
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
Stars by Oktay Rıfat
A notebook by the book
A glass by the notebook
A child by the glass
A cat by the child
And stars stars in the distance
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
View by Oktay Rıfat
A small lavender flower
A golden bee
Poppies without end
At this moment when
We love without thinking
Suddenly the sky begins
translated b y Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
A Rough Pillow by Oktay Rıfat
Where were we? Here were we?—Now it’s impossible to tell.
It was a rough pillow we shared!
It was us or perhaps someone else who was like us,
The fruit of our love, the immortal child.
Soaking wet from the rain of those dreams,
Our coming smeared with sticky blood
Will never go out of my mind,
The gentle pulling out like swimming
In the clear sunny waters of the days,
Turning into ourselves from our mother’s womb,
That first scream, that first blue, that first breath of air.
translated by Ruth Christie & Richard McKane
Returning Home by Tu Mu
My children tug at my coat and ask,
“Why have you returned so late?
With whom did you struggle for years and months
To win that head of white hair?”
translated by John M. Ortinau
Composed on Horseback, Returning from Lakeview Pavilion at Hangchow, Presented to Yü-ju and Lo-tao by Wang An-shih
River’s glint and mountain mist were floating in green;
At sunset we made to return, they stayed a little longer.
Hereafter this scene shall always enter into my dreams;
In dreams I can wander with my old friends.
translated by Jan W. Walls
old pictures
there you stand
bent over slightly
your hands
on the dog’s neck
you both looking
at me
camera in hand
taking this picture
which now sits
on a bookshelf
in my den
a stick lying
at the dog’s paws
that I
most likely
use for play
with him
both of you gone
relegated to a memory
of a time
when we were young
and not yet wise
to how it would
eventually end
he to ashes
in an urn
on my desk
and you
lost to time
and old pictures
and me
with this ache
in my heart
still
from To the Waters of the Chia-ling, Two Poems : 2 by Yüan Chen
You, waters with no feeling,
Have you regrets as you flow east?
In my heart are things I cannot express,
Does that make me different from you?
translated by William H. Nienhauser
from Wandering T’ai Mountain by Li Po
I bow, then bow again, deeper, ashamed
I haven’t an immortal’s talent. And yet,
boundless, I can dwindle time and space
away, losing the world in such distances!
translated by David Hinton
