On the Road to Tang Lake by P’eng Sun-yü

In the evening I gaze out from atop a high tower;
The sun’s radiance in the forest has been clear all day.
On Lonely Mountain the autumn garrison is cold,
Up the three branches of the Mao River the night tides are born.
Fishermen’s fires appear out in the main current,
Gull-topped waves stay bright all night long.
It’s time for our boat to stop for a moment:
The misty moon is just too filled with feeling.

translated by William H. Nienhauser, Jr.

On the Road to Tang Lake by P’eng Sun-yü

In the evening I gaze out from atop a high tower;
The sun’s radiance in the forest has been clear all day.
On Lonely Mountain the autumn garrison is cold,
Up the three branches of the Mao River the night tides are born.
Fisherman’s fires appear out in the main current,
Gull-topped waves stay bright all night long.
It’s time for our boat to stop for a moment:
The misty moon is just too filled with feeling.

translated by William H. Nienhauser

Random Poem on the lake by Sung Wan

Of mountain scenery, the Southern Screen is best;
Its atmosphere misty, half is hidden, half is there.
A small skiff moors in the winding pond;
Pelicans rest under withered willow trees.
Clouds rise up and a thousand peaks are thrown together;
The sky clears and a single pagoda stands alone.
With inspiration come thoughts of distant views;
Melodies from a Tartar flute fill West Lake.

translated by Yin-nan Chang