A journey of countless stages from the Southland ends
with the pale moon and dawn clouds of Huaching
and the West Wind rushing past Sunrise Pavilion
entering the tall willows it sounds like rain
translated by Red Pine
Chinese poet
Autumn Spring by Hsüeh T’ao
The cold hue newly clears, a belt of haze;
The mysterious sound gurgles afar, the ten-stringed lute.
Endlessly to my pillow they come, to draw thoughts of love,
Not letting this pensive soul half the night to sleep.
translated by Eric W. Johnson
In a Dream by Lu Yu
The shadows of the t’ung tree, glistening and clear,
having just passed,
Bells under the eaves tinkle in the wind,
breaking off my daytime sleep.
In a dream I found myself in a painted hall with no one around,
And only a pair of swallows softly threading zither strings.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
from Recollections of West Lake: Lyric 6 by Ou-yang Hsiu
a whole life of saying, West Lake’s good.
now I come, in my official carriage
wealth and honor
. . . . . . . .floating clouds
look up, look down, the rushing years
twenty.
I come back, old white head, ancient crane
the people of the city and the suburbs
all strange, all new
who’d recognize the old coot, their master, on another day?
translated by Jerome P. Seaton
from Reflections of West Lake: Lyric 4 by Ou-yang Hsiu
flocks of blossoms gone, yet West Lake’s good.
shattered scattered residue of red
as willow down comes misting down
the willow hangs across the wind the whole day through
the pipe song wanders off, the traveler goes
and spring spring’s emptied to my heart
I let the thin gauze curtain fall
fine rain, a mated pair of swallows, coming home
translated by Jerome P. Seaton
from Recollections of West Lake: Lyric 3 by Ou-yang Hsiu
painted skiff with a load of wine, and West Lake’s good.
lively music from pipes and strings
wine cups quickly passed along
secure afloat on calming waves
slip off
to drunken stupor
the clouds float on beneath the moving boat
sky and the water, pure and fresh
look up, look down, stay, or go on
seems there’s another heaven
in this Lake
translated by Jerome P. Seaton
Autumn by Su Tung P’o
The water lilies of summer are gone. They are no more.
Nothing remains but their umbrella leaves.
The chrysanthemums of Autumn are fading.
Their leaves are white with frost.
The beauty of the year is only a solemn memory.
Soon it will be winter and
Oranges turn gold and the citrons green.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Spring by Su Tung P’o
The pear blossoms are pure
White against the blue green willows.
The willow cotton blows in the wind.
The city is full of flying pear flowers.
The petals fallen on the balcony look like snow.
How many Spring Festivals are we born to see?
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
To The Tune, Plum Blossoms Fall And Scatter by Li Ch’ing Chao
The perfume of the red water lilies
Dies away. The Autumn air
Penetrates the pearl jade curtain.
Torches gleam on the orchid boats.
Who has sent me a message
Of love from the clouds? It is
The time when the wild swans
Return. The moonlight floods the women’s
Quarters. Flowers, after their
Nature, whirl away in the wind.
Split water, after its nature
Flows together at the lowest point.
Those who are of one being
Can never stop thinking of each other.
But, ah, my dear, we are apart,
And I have become used to sorrow.
This love–nothing can ever
Make it fade or disappear.
For a moment it was on my eyebrows,
Now it is heavy in my heart.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
from Deva-like Barbarian: Lyric 1 by Wei Chuang
The night of our parting in the red tower is enough for sorrow;
By the fragrant lamp, the tasseled screen is but half rolled up.
As I leave the moon is just fading;
She says goodbye mixed with tears.
The guitar is ornamented with gold and kingfisher feathers;
From its strings come the caroling cries of orioles.
Urging me to return soon,
She is like a flower in the window!
translated by Lois M. Fusek
Leonard Durso 