Dark night endowed me with eyes for darkness
yet with them I seek light
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Chinese poet
Above the Yangtze by Wang An-shih
A letter from long-ago shores arrives, saying
our village is tangled in sickness and hunger.
Why are they telling me, a ten-thousand-mile
wanderer, swelling my hundred-year sorrow?
No one cares about patching up ruined lives
now, and my lifework’s only turned to shame.
My sick eyes gaze off toward them. Night falls.
I trust myself to this little-boat life all adrift.
translated by David Hinton
Cut Flowers by Wang An-shih
Getting this old isn’t much fun,
and it’s worse stuck in bed, sick.
I draw water and arrange flowers,
comforted by their scents adrift,
scents adrift, gone in a moment.
And how much longer for me?
Cut flowers and this long-ago I:
it’s so easy forgetting each other.
translated by David Hinton
At Lumen River Headwaters by Wang An-shih
West of Lumen City, a hundred mountains rise ridge beyond ridge.
All trace of my life buried in these dark depths of haze and cloud,
it’s perfectly empty: that worry over white hair, over all I’ve done
and not done. In spring wind, the river lights up a ravaged face.
translated by David Hinton
Hymn by Wang An-shih
Dawn lights up the room. I close my book and sleep,
dreaming of Bell Mountain and full of tenderness.
How do you grow old living with failure and disgrace?
Just go back to the cascading creek: cold, shimmering.
translated by David Hinton
untitled poem by T’ao Chien
Days and months never take their time.
The four seasons keep bustling each other
away. Cold winds churn lifeless branches.
Fallen leaves cover long paths. We’re frail,
crumbling more with each turning year.
Our temples turn white early, and once
your hair flaunts that bleached streamer,
the road ahead starts closing steadily in.
This house is an inn awaiting travelers,
and I yet another guest leaving. All this
leaving and leaving–where will I ever
end up? My old home’s on South Mountain.
translated by David Hinton
from Cold Mountain Poems of Han Shan: 5
My mind is like the autumn moon
clear and bright in a pool of jade
nothing can compare
what more can I say
translated by Red Pine
from Cold Mountain Poems of Han Shan: 4
The peach would bloom through summer
but the wind and moon won’t wait
search for a man of the Han
could one of them still be alive
day after day the petals drift down
year after year we move on
where we raise the dust today
long ago was an endless sea
translated by Red Pine
from Cold Mountain Poems of Han Shan: 3
What makes a young man grieve
he grieves to see his hair turn white
besides that what makes him grieve
he grieves to see the day draw near
he goes to stay on Taishan
or leaves to guard Peimang
how can I bear to speak these words
these words pain an old man
translated by Red Pine
from Cold Mountain Poems of Han Shan: 2
Spring water is pure in an emerald stream
moonlight is white on Cold Mountain
silence thoughts and the spirit becomes clear
focus on emptiness and the world grows still
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 