Sailing south on infested waters into the land of mist
horizon of tanglehead stretching to the sea
hills marked by elephant swaths after a rain
dragon drool rising from the depths in the sun
poison-spitting frogs that can see a traveler’s shadow
a typhoon sky frightening the passengers on board
my concerns however are other than these
namely how to bear white hair and the disappearing years
translated by Red Pine
Wishing to disperse for once the sorrows of a lifetime,
I mount the Yüeh-yang Tower above the Tung-t’ing lake.
Over ten thousand miles I could have sailed in high spirits,
But alas, there are dragons who know how to upset the boat!
traslated by James J.Y. Liu
A hanging screen, a half-rolled-up curtain;
The pillows are cold, the quilts still fragrant.
Why does my soul, for the sake of remembrance,
Fly in a dream across the Hsiao and the Hsiang?
translated by James J.Y. Liu
I daydream, melancholy at the windowsill—-
memories I will never tell—-
our passion in the late-night hours,
our tearful good-byes at dawn.
Mountains and rivers divide us,
and I’ve given up hoping for rain.
Divided, I dream of you today—-
I even embrace the pain.
translated by Sam Hamill
Light rain settles this white dust,
and her perfume penetrates thin walls.
Her jade-white body slips into a jade-white gown.
The embroidery is beautiful, but sad.
She blossoms like a pear against an ivory couch.
A silk blouse and green skirt
hang in the smoky incense of aloe.
Why do I waste time painting early morning clouds?
translated by Sam Hamill
In what dynasty, under what emperor,
did we live without war?
And in every war
every man dreamed of peace.
And now the farmer
finds more bones than soil.
And here comes the draft board,
wanting more bodies.
translated by Sam Hamill
Eleven years ago I was a southbound exile
after four thousand li I’m in the North again
together with the summons warm weather arrived too
along the postal route new flowers every day
translated by Red Pine
I keep thinking about this minnow in that tiny pond
then I worry about these puny wings trying to reach Heaven
I’ve lost count of the markers along the shore
each one farther from where we parted
translated by Red Pine
Before it departed I asked Spring
when it would reach the Ch’in Plains
and could it carry a dream back home
all the way to my old garden
translated by Red Pine
White reflection retreats to western hills.
A jasper corona goes up in the distance.
The past, the present: where to end?
A thousand years gone with the winds.
Sands of the sea turn into stones.
Fish bubble, blast the bridge of Ch’in.
Light of the sky wanders far away.
Bronze pillars erode with the years.
translated by Wai-lim Yip
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 