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
Blue blue your collar,
sad sad my heart:
though I do not go to you,
why don’t you send word?
Blue blue your belt-stone,
sad sad my thoughts:
though I do not go to you,
why don’t you come?
Restless, heedless,
I walk the gate tower.
One day not seeing you
is three months long.
translated by Burton Watson
Cold blows the northern wind,
Thick falls the snow.
Be kind to me, love me,
Take my hand and go with me.
Yet she lingers, yet she havers!
There is no time to lose.
The north wind whistles,
Whirls the falling snow.
Be kind to me, love me,
Take my hand and go home with me.
Yet she lingers, yet she havers!
There is no time to lose.
Nothing is redder than the fox,
Nothing blacker than the crow.
Be kind to me, love me,
Take my hand and ride with me.
Yet she lingers, yet she havers!
There is no time to lose.
translated by Arthur Waley
Outside the Eastern Gate
Are girls many as the clouds;
But though they are many as clouds
There is none on whom my heart dwells.
White jacket and grey scarf
Alone could cure my woe.
Beyond the Gate Tower
Are girls lovely as rush-wool;
But though they are lovely as rush-wool
There is none with whom my heart bides.
White jacket and madder skirt
Alone could bring me joy.
translated by Arthur Waley
Of fair girls the loveliest
Was to meet me at the corner of the Wall.
But she hides and will not show herself;
I scratch my head, pace up and down.
Of fair girls the prettiest
Gave me a red flute.
The flush of that red flute
Is pleasure at the girl’s beauty.
She has been in the pastures and brought for me rush-wood,
Very beautiful and rare.
It is not you that are beautiful;
But you were given by a lovely girl.
translated by Arthur Waley
Oh, you with the blue collar,
On and on I think of you.
Even though I do not go to you,
You might surely send me news?
Oh, you with the blue collar,
Always and ever I long for you.
Even though I do not go to you,
You might surely sometimes come?
Here by the wall-gate
I pace to and fro.
One day when I do not see you
Is like three months.
translated by Arthur Waley
I climb that wooded hill
And look towards where my father is.
My father is saying, ‘Alas, my son is on service;
Day and night he knows no rest.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back and not be left behind.’
I climb that bare hill
And look towards where my mother is.
My mother is saying, ‘Alas, my young one is on service;
Day and night he gets no sleep.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back, and not be cast away.’
I climb that ridge
And look towards where my elder brother is.
My brother is saying, ‘Alas, my young brother is on service;
Day and night he toils.
Grant that he is being careful of himself,
So that he may come back and not die.’
translated by Arthur Waley
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
Fine Arts
Life, love and destiny.
4TheRecord is dedicated primarily to Ausmusic from all eras and most genres, we will explore the dynamics of the creative process, and reveal the great drama, lyricism, musicality, and emotion behind each classic song.
Fii schimbarea pe care vrei sa o vezi in lume!
Moments de vie, fragments de textes et quelques notes...
Unleashing the beauty of creativity
there's nothing like stories
quiet moments in nature
Art and Literature Beyond Borders
A bird's eye view of St. George, Utah
Keep on Reading
Chronicling an ever-changing city through faded and forgotten artifacts
I read, rant and write ;)
Sono una donna libera. Nel mio blog farete un viaggio lungo e profondo nei pensieri della mente del cuore e dell anima.
The Green Lizard Log
Leonard Durso 