You who come from my village
Ought to know its affairs
The day you passed the silk window
Had the chill plum bloomed?
translated by Gary Snyder
8th Century Chinese poetry
Meandering Poems, One by Tu Fu
A single petal swirling diminishes the spring.
Ten thousand dots adrift in the wind, they sadden me.
Shouldn’t I then gaze at flowers about to fall before my eyes?
Never disdain the hurtful wine that passes through my lips.
In the small pavilion by the river nest the kingfisher birds;
Close by a high tomb in the royal park lie stone unicorns.
This, a simple law of nature: seek pleasure while there’s time.
Who needs drifting fame to entangle the body?
translated by Irving Y. Lo
from Enjoying Coolness by Wang Wei
I rinse my mouth in the water and wash my feet.
In front, I face an old man angling for fish:
How many in all are those who lusted for bait
And now vainly long to be “east of the lotus leaves.”
translated by Hugh M. Stimson
Seeing Someone Off by Wang Wei
Dismounting, I offer you wine
And ask, “Where are you bound?”
You say, “I’ve found no fame or fortune;
I must return to rest in the South Mountain.”
You leave, and I ask no more–
White clouds drift on and on.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Red Peonies by Wang Wei
Such radiance of green,
so casual and composed;
The tint of her dress
Blends crimson with pink.
The heart of a flower
is nearly torn with grief:
Will spring’s brilliance
ever know her heart?
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Sunset by Tu Fu
Sunset glitters on the beads
Of the curtains. Spring flowers
Bloom in the valley. The gardens
Along the river are filled
With perfume. Smoke of cooking
Fires drifts over the slow barges.
Sparrows hop and tumble in
The branches. Whirling insects
Swam in the air. Who discovered
That one cup of thick wine
Will dispel a thousand cares?
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Blue Water Song by Li Po
Blue water
burning moon
on South Lake
he gathers lillies
the lotus flowers
whisper
the lone boatman
sighs
translated by David Young
At the Pavilion on Grand-View Mountain, Sent to Chang Tzu-jung at Flourish Ridge by Meng Hao-jan
On the summit, sudden winds wild,
a cloud sails by like a startled bird.
Standing at the guardrail, I wonder:
is it old Chang coming back home?
translated by David Hinton
After Chang Yüan’s Clear Mirror Lament by Meng Hao-jan
This mirror of mine all coiled dragons:
its clarity was pure radiance every day,
then gathering the dust of this world
it soon blurred to a moon adrift in mist.
When grief comes, I look to that light,
but find only white hair and lament
and you in borderland distances. Tell me,
How could farewell go so long and far?
translated by David Hinton
Wandering the West Ridge at Phoenix-Grove Monastery by Meng Hao-jan
Savoring the year’s lovely bloom together,
we come wandering among water and rock.
Forest distances open through depths of mist,
colors of spring crowding recluse mountains,
and in wine our thoughts find such accord,
ch’in song filling these joys with idleness.
Don’t worry about dark roads. We’ll invite
old moon: always a friend for the way home.
translated by David Hinton
Leonard Durso 