18th Century Chinese poetry

After Shih-te by Shih-shu

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I climb these hills as if walking on air
body too light to fall
bamboo staff resting against a great stone
torn cloak snapping in the wind

a lone bird soars the azure depths
far distant springs reflected in its eye
carefree, singing a timeless song
gone–on a journey without end

translated by James H. Sanford

Remembering by Yuan Mei

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The years, their months
turn, grave and slow, their
fall and spring, again.

Mountain flowers, mountain leaves and
each time’s new.

Sometimes I sit alone
and smile upon the child I was,

in memory now distant
and a friend.

translated by J.P. Seaton