The water country’s reeds and rushes, night, covered with frost;
The moon’s coldness, the mountains’ cast share a bleak, pale blue.
Who can say, from this night on, a thousand li away,
My dreams of you, dim as the distant frontier?

tranateds by Eric W. Johnson

9/9, out drinking on Dragon Mountain,
I’m an exile among yellow blossoms smiling.

Soon drunk, I watch my cap tumble in wind,
dance in love—a guest the moon invites.

translated by David Hinton

It’s forever since I faced East Mountain.
How many times have roses bloomed there,

or clouds returned, and thinned away,
a bright moon setting over whose home?

translated by David Hinton

You arrived, a traveler from Ch’ang-an,
and now, returning there, you leave.

Headlong wind carries my thoughts away,
filling trees there in the western capital,

uneasy. There’s no saying how this feels,
or if we’ll ever meet again. I look far

without seeing you—look, and it’s all
mist-gathered mountains opening away.

translated by David Hinton

In our magnolia-oared apple-wood boat
gold flutes and jade pipes for and aft
a thousand liters of fine wine on board
we drift with courtesans beside us

A Taoist is waiting to ride off on a crane
a fisherman ignores the gulls walking behind him
the songs of Ch’u Yuan are heard here night and day
the King of Ch’u’s garden palace is a desolate hill

Inspired by wine I write this and the sacred mountains shake
the islands of immortals resound when I’m done
if fame or fortune could somehow last
the waters of the Han would flow upstream

translated by Red Pine

Tung-t’ing autumn stretches away forever.
About to set sail on a homeward-bound boat,

I can’t tell which lands are Ch’u, which Wu:
there’s nothing but water merged into sky

all boundless beyond, river trees sunk away,
lakewater spread brimming wide into seas.

One day you’ll be boat and oar of the world
and we’ll sail across rivers vast and mighty.

translated by David Hinton

When my hair first covered my forehead
I played at the gate picking flowers
you came riding a bamboo pole horse
we ran around the well throwing plums
we both lived in Changkan Village
two children without any guile
at fourteen I became your wife
I was too shy to smile
I bowed by the wall in the shadows
when you called I didn’t answer
then at fifteen I stopped frowning
your life and death became mine
I vowed never to leave you
so why am I climbing this lookout
when I turned sixteen you left on a journey
a journey to far off Chutang Gorge
impassable half the year
and gibbons howling from the cliffs
at the gate where you lingered before leaving
your footprints have since turned to moss
it’s too thick to sweep
and leaves are falling early
the yellow butterflies of autumn
are flying in pairs in our garden
the very sight hurts my heart
and drains the rose from my cheeks
when you finally head back through the Gorges
send a letter so I’ll know
I’ll come to meet you no matter how far
even to Changfeng Shoals

translated by Red Pine

still I journeyed west to present my “Tall Poplar Ode”
but I couldn’t wait for the clouds to lift from palace gates
I decided to spend old age on East Mountain
by chance we met near Wei River Bridge
and said goodbye again at Tsuo Terrace
you asked if I knew how much you hated parting
it was late spring and petals were raining down
there was no end to our words
and no limit to our hearts
I’m calling the boy to come seal this letter
I’m sending you my feelings from too far away

translated by Red Pine

Morning rain dampens the dust in Weicheng
new willow branches have turned the inn green
drink one more cup of wine my friend
west of Yang Pass there’s no one you know

translated by Red Pine

The first dew of fall wets palace steps
it soaks her silk slippers late at night
lowering the crystal bead curtain
she gazes at the shimmering autumn moon

translated by Red Pine