A fisherman’s taking his boat deep across the lake.
My old eyes trace his path all the way, his precise
wavering in and out of view. Then it gets strange:
suddenly he’s a lone goose balanced on a bent reed.
translated by David Hinton
12th Century Chinese poetry
Rain On The River by Lu Yu
In the fog we drift hither
And yon over the dark waters.
At last our little boat finds
Shelter under a willow bank.
At midnight I am awake,
Heavy with wine. The smoky
Lamp is still burning. The rain
Is still sighing in the bamboo
Thatch of the cabin of the boat.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Sailing On The Lake To The Ching River by Lu Yu
It is Spring on the lake and
I run six or seven miles.
Sunset, I notice a few
Houses. Children are driving
Home the ducks and geese. Young girls
Are coming home carrying
Mulberry leaves and hemp. Here
In this hidden village the
Old ways still go on. The crops
Are good. Everybody is
Laughing. This old man fastens
His boat and climbs up the bank.
Tipsy, he holds fast to the vines.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Evening in the Village by Lu Yu
Here in the mountain village
Evening falls peacefully.
Half tipsy, I lounge in the
Doorway. The moon shines in the
Twilit sky. The breeze is so
Gentle the water is hardly
Ruffled. I have escaped from the
Lies and trouble. I no longer
Have any importance. I
do not miss my horses and
Chariots. Here at home I
Have plenty of pigs amd chickens.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
In a Dream by Lu Yu
The shadows of the t’ung tree, glistening and clear,
having just passed,
Bells under the eaves tinkle in the wind,
breaking off my daytime sleep.
In a dream I found myself in a painted hall with no one around,
And only a pair of swallows softly threading zither strings.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
from Recollections of West Lake: Lyric 3 by Ou-yang Hsiu
painted skiff with a load of wine, and West Lake’s good.
lively music from pipes and strings
wine cups quickly passed along
secure afloat on calming waves
slip off
to drunken stupor
the clouds float on beneath the moving boat
sky and the water, pure and fresh
look up, look down, stay, or go on
seems there’s another heaven
in this Lake
translated by Jerome P. Seaton
To The Tune, Plum Blossoms Fall And Scatter by Li Ch’ing Chao
The perfume of the red water lilies
Dies away. The Autumn air
Penetrates the pearl jade curtain.
Torches gleam on the orchid boats.
Who has sent me a message
Of love from the clouds? It is
The time when the wild swans
Return. The moonlight floods the women’s
Quarters. Flowers, after their
Nature, whirl away in the wind.
Split water, after its nature
Flows together at the lowest point.
Those who are of one being
Can never stop thinking of each other.
But, ah, my dear, we are apart,
And I have become used to sorrow.
This love–nothing can ever
Make it fade or disappear.
For a moment it was on my eyebrows,
Now it is heavy in my heart.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Waking Up in Early Summer by Yang Wan-li
The sour trace of plums squirts between my teeth
the light green of bananas fills my window screen
waking up at noon without a thought or care
I sit and watch my children chasing willow fuzz
translated by Red Pine
On the Sanchu Road by Tseng Chi
Plums are yellow and days are sunny
where the river turns shallow I take the trail
the canopy of green doesn’t get less shady
the occasional sound of orioles though is new
translated by Red Pine
Spring Day by Chu Hsi
Along the Ssu River it’s a fine day for blossoms
the landscape is endless and suddenly new
I recognize the East Wind’s familiar face
a thousand pinks and purples and everywhere spring
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 