Caltrop leaves tug on the waves, the lotus quivers in the wind;
Where the lotus flowers grow dense, a small boat passes through.
Wishing to speak to her lover, she nods her head and smiles–
A hairpin of green jade falls into the water.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Before Hui-le Peak, sands like snow.
Beyond Shou-hsiang Citadel, the moon like frost.
From somewhere the reed pipes are blowing,
And all night through the soldiers long for home.
translated by Paul Kroll
For several miles I have heard the chill waters,
Homes in the mountain, no one else around–
Strange birds scream over the broad plain;
The setting sun puts fear into the traveler’s heart.
A new moon before the twilight’s gone,
Beacons of war never come this far–
There in the gloom beyond the mulberries
Are home fires to which I gradually draw closer.
translated by Stephen Owen
A goldfinch in my hair,
My cheek’s brightly rouged,
For one brief moment we met among flowers.
You understood my heart,
And tender was your love.
Only Heaven knew the joy we shared.
The incense turns to ashes,
The candle dissolves in tears;
How like our innermost feelings for one another.
The peaked pillow is smeared,
The brocade covers cold,
When waking I find the water clock has stopped.
translated by William R. Schultz
Late, when it returns from the city wall;
Perilous, where it perches for the night in a courtyard–
The moon brightens a leafless tree,
Frost makes slippery the windy branches.
Crying hoarse, its throat is parched;
Flying low, its frozen wings droop.
The parrots in the painted hall
Do not know cold from warmth.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
A flower, and yet not a flower
Of mist, and yet not of mist
At midnight she comes
And at daybreak, leaves.
She comes like a spring dream, for how long?
She goes like morning dew, without a trace.
translated by Eugene Eoyang
A hall by the water where the flowers grow dense,
A sunny day in spring just before noon–
A bird peeps at the window facing the rail,
A horse passes by–the crack of a whip beyond the wall.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
You ask me when I am coming. I do not know.
I dream of your mountains and autumn pools brimming all night with the rain.
Oh, when shall we be trimming wicks again, together in your western window?
When shall I be hearing your voice again, all night in the rain?
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
Mist mantling cold waters, and moonlight shoreline sand,
we anchor overnight near a wine-house entertaining guests.
A nation lost in ruins; knowing nothing of that grief, girls
sing Courtyard Blossoms. Their voices drift across the river.
translated by David Hinton
Distant clouds, trees deep into mist,
autumn bathed in a river’s clarity.
Where is she tonight, so beautiful?
Moonlight floods the mountaintops.
translated by David Hinton
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
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.
Erm, what am I doing with my life?
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet 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 