In the land of Ch’u friends are rare
meeting you here was unexpected
I’ve kept your letters close to my heart
how strange to see white in your hair
our cups overflow with an innkeeper’s wine
our luggage is full of river-travel poems
may we ride forth together again
as we once did on Loyang Bridge
translated by Red Pine
The season seems to be ending early
this morning felt sadder still
the wind stirs a heartbreaking spring
and the pond chills a flowerless night
the longer I look at the wine
the clearer you become
who is that walking along the winding river
looking for my footprints and thinking of me
translated by Red Pine
I reined in my horse below a pine ridge
and hiked to the lookout on top
the trail appeared impassable as I started out
but once I arrived I wished it were longer
from the summit I heard a chorus of winds
in the woods I bathed in a secluded stream
the sound of a bell roused me on the Way
the evening chime cleared the clouds and mist
though my visit was brief
I finally saw what caused my troubles
but when I thought about building a hut
I knew it would have to wait for old age
translated by Red Pine
I climb this tower every day and look out
at the passing years slipping into darkness
right now I’m sick of this post in Huainan
and all the red trees in these autumn hills
translated by Red Pine
With a sigh I left someone dear
and floated off into the mist and fog
with oars bent for Loyang
and Kuangling’s bells and treeline fading
this morning when we said goodbye
we wondered where we would next meet
in a world like a boat on the waves
rising and falling with no shore in sight
translated by Red Pine
Singer of elegies of Yen and Chao
we meet where Chi Meng lived
words can’t exhaust this inch of our hearts
the sun is setting on the road ahead
translated by Red Pine
I left the Yiching in the woods
now I drift with the gulls by the stream
among the singers of the way of Ch’u
to whom do you most often turn
translated by Red Pine
The midday sun slips behind mountains
the Yellow River turns for the sea
trying to see for a thousand miles
I climb one more story
translated by Red Pine
Through Tungting Lake in the middle of fall
the waters of the Hsiao and Hsiang flow north
but home is a thousand-mile dream away
and a guest greets dawn with sorrow
there’s no need to open a book
far better to visit an inn
Ch’ang-an and Loyang are full of old friends
but when will we join them again
translated by Red Pine
Fireflies from the Enchanted Mountains
come through the screen this autumn evening
and settle on my shirt
my lute and my books grow cold
outside, above the eaves
they are hard to tell from the stars
they sail over the well
each reflecting a mate
in the garden they pass chrysanthemums
flares of color against the dark
white-haired and sad
I try to read their code
wanting a prediction:
will I be here next year
to watch them?
translated by David Young
Being Present for the Moment
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Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
A virtual speakeasy of songs, stories and questionable life choices.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet and author by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Leonard Durso 