The earlier boat is already faint
I was hoping to cross but it wouldn’t wait
from autumn hills comes the evening bell
it’s raining in Ch’u all the way to the sea
the windblown waves recall our parting
the way I once looked has changed
a lone bird heading southeast
asks the way to Kuangling
translated by Red Pine
Chinese poet
Entertaining Adjutant Li by Wei Ying-wu
When we were fifteen we both served at court
we climbed the red steps through incense at dawn
we toured the Han Garden in bloom
and bathed on Lishan in the snow
but the Immortal has flown and isn’t expected back
his advisors are scattered assuming they’re alive
meeting you today thinking about the past
one cup makes me happy the next one sad
translated by Red Pine
Early Autumn by Po Chü-i
Two grey hairs appear in the lit mirror,
a single leaf tumbling into the courtyard.
Old age slips away, nothing to do with me,
and when grief comes, who does it find?
Idle months and years emptying away,
loved ones from long ago lost to sight.
I’ll play with my girl here, my little girl:
we keep coaxing smiles from each other.
translated by David Hinton
from dreaming of Li Po, Two Poems: from 1 by Tu Fu
Old friend, you appeared in a dream,
It shows you have long been in my thoughts.
Perhaps it wasn’t your living soul:
The way’s too far, it couldn’t be done.
Your spirit came: and the maples were green:
Your spirit left: the mountain pass darkened.
Friend, now that you’re ensnared down there,
How did you manage to wing away?
Moonlight shines full on the rafters,
Yet I wonder if it isn’t your reflection.
The waters are deep, the waves expansive:
Don’t let the water dragon get you!
translated by Eugene Eoyang
The Pa River by Po Chü-i
Below the city, where the Pa River’s water flows,
spring comes like yeast-powder spiriting wine:
beaches feel soft as the Wei’s meandering shores,
and cliffs bring memories of T’ien-chin Bridge,
but fresh yellow willows dip their shadows here,
and tiny white duckweed blossoms scent the air.
Sitting beside swelling water, I scratch my head:
all this grief and sorrow, and whose is it anyway?
translated by David Hinton
Farewell to My Day Lilies and Cassia by Po Chü-i
No longer Prefect, this isn’t home anymore.
I planted day lillies and cassia for nothing.
Cassia renowned for enticing us to stay on,
day-lilies never making it sorrow forgotten:
they’re a far cry from this riverside moon,
come lingering our farewell step after step.
translated by David Hinton
from T’ao Ch’ien
But my soul is not fashioned like other men’s.
To drive in their rut I might perhaps learn:
To be untrue to myself could only lead to muddle.
Let us drink and enjoy together the wine you have brought:
For my course is set and cannot now be altered.
translated by Arthur Waley
Lamenting Revenue Manager Liu Fen by Li Shang-yin
Dwelling apart, the star-signs changed,
hope lost, the living divided from the dead.
The last cinnamon dries in the apple jug,
old rue grows cold on the bookslips.
River winds keen, blowing wild geese,
mountain trees’ sunset glow, bearing cicades.
I shout once, my head turns a thousand times,
but Heaven is high and will not hear me.
translatedby Stephen Owen
Winter Night by Jia Dao
I pass through winter again in travels,
the ladle empty, the pot empty as well.
Tears stream upon a cold pillow,
my tracks are gone in my former hills.
Ice forms in waters with drifting duckweed,
snow blends with the wind in ruined willows.
The cock does not announce dawn’s light,
but a few wild geese are screeching.
translated by Stephen Owen
The Inn at Niyang by Jia Dao
Why do sorrows of travel all rise together?—
at twilight I send my old friends back.
Autumn fireflies emerge from the abandoned inn,
cold rains come to the deserted city.
Evening sunlight tosses white dew in wind,
the shadows of trees sweep green moss.
I sit alone, the brooding look of someone apart
the solitary lamp does not dispel with its light.
translated by Stephen Owen
Leonard Durso 