I have not seen Master Li
this long time
His pretended madness
—what a truly pitiable thing!
the whole world
wants to be rid of him
I alone cherish his talent
So nimble-witted
he can write
thousands of poems
forced to walk the roads
drinking country wine
On K’uang Shan
his old study
—when his hair is white
it might be best
to go back there

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vincent McHugh

What corner of earth
haven’t you been to?
and tonight
you’re here
in a friendly glow
Your village home
—you’ve been away
a long time
The war
not over yet

Wicker lamp getting dim
still a flick’ring light
snow
falling heavy without a sound
What a lot of things
you have seen and heard!
You must talk and talk
until morning

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vincent McHugh

You ask when I’m coming back
The date not set yet
On Pa Shah
night rain
brimming autumn pools
Ah! when shall we
at western window
trim candles together
and gossip about
night’s rain on Pa Shan?

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vince nt McHugh

Spring mountains
Fog about to disperse
Sky clear
stars few
A fading moon
shines on your cheek
We cry at parting
as the day comes up

So many words
but the feeling
strong as ever
Turning your head
to look back
you call over and over
“Remember the Green-Skirt Girl
and everywhere on earth
be tender with the grass”

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vincent McHugh

Hundred-year men?
None in the world
But we slave to make
thousand-year songs
beating our iron
to bar our death
Seeing the ghosts
clap hands
and laugh

translated by C.H. Kwock & Vincent McHugh

Cool is the autumn wind,
Clear the autumn moon,
The blown leaves heap up and scatter again;
A raven, cold-stricken, starts from his roost.
Where are you, beloved?—When shall I see you once more?
Ah, how my heart aches to-night—this hour!

ranslated by Shigeyoshi Obata

Blue mountains lie beyond the north wall;
Round the city’s eastern side flows the white water.
Here we part, friend, once forever.
You go ten thousand miles, drifting away
Like an unrooted water-grass.
Oh, the floating clouds and the thoughts of a wanderer!
Oh, the sunset and the longing of an old friend!
We ride away from each other, waving our hands,
While our horses neigh softly, softly . . .

translated Shigeyoshi Obata

If heaven loved not the wine,
A Wine Star would not be in heaven;
If earth loved not the wine,
The Wine Spring would not be on the earth.
Since heaven and earth love the wine,
Need a tippling mortal be ashamed?
The transparent wine, I hear,
Has the soothing virtue of a sage,
While the turgid is rich, they say,
As the fertile mind of the wise.
Both the sage and the wise were drinkers,
Why seek for more peers among gods and goblins?
Three cups open the grand door to bliss;
Take a jugful, the universe is yours.
Such is the rapture of the wine,
That the sober shall never inherit.

translated by Shigeyoshi Obata

Why have I come hither, after all?
Solitude is my lot at Sand Hill City.
There are old trees by the city wall,
And busy voices of autumn, day and night.
The Luh wine will not soothe my soul,
Nor the touching songs of Chi move me;
But all my thoughts flow on to you
With the waters of the Min endlessly southward.

translated by Shigeyoshi Obata

I have not turned my steps toward East Mountain for so long.
I wonder how many times the roses have bloomed there . . .
The white clouds gather and scatter again like friends.
Who has a house there now to view the setting of the bright moon?

translated by Shigeyoshi Obata