Near the rim of Hsa-sai Mountain, white egrets fly;
Peach blossoms, flowing stream, and perches full grown.
Oh, for a broad-brimmed bamboo hat, and a cloak of straw!
Slanting wind, fine rain, one need not go home.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Chinese poet
from Fisherman’s Songs: No. 3 by Chang Chih-ho
Before dusk on the lake, the moon just full,
The fisherman from Pa-ling chants incessantly his boatman’s songs.
Fishing gear,
A boat with an up-turned bow,
To be happy in wind and waves one need not be a saint.
translated by Hellmut Wilhelm
Looking in the Mirror the Day Before the Advent of Autumn by Li Yi
Everything fades away beyond oneself.
Life is all here in the mirror:
Just that my temples are covered with snow,
With which to front the autumn winds tomorrow.
translated by William H. Nienhauser
from Expressing My Feelings by Meng Chiao
A single spirit lies at the root of all things–
How can they then destroy one another?
translated by Stephen Owen
The Crow Cries At Night by Po Chü-yi
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
Flower Unlike Flower by Po Chü-yi
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
An Occasional Poem by Ssu-k’ung T’u
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
Recruiting Officer of Shih-hao by Tu Fu
At dusk I sought lodging at Shih-hao village,
When a recruiting officer came to seize men at night.
An old man scaled the wall and fled,
His old wife came out to answer the door.
How furious was the officer’s shout!
How pitiable was the woman’s cry!
I listened as she stepped forward to speak:
“All my three sons have left for garrison duty at Yeh;
From one of them a letter just arrived,
Saying my two sons had newly died in battle.
Survivors can manage to live on,
But the dead are gone forever.
Now there’s no other man in the house,
Only a grandchild at his mother’s breast.
THe child’s mother has gone away;
She has only a tattered skirt to wear.
An old woman I am feeble and weak,
But I will gladly leave with you tonight
To answer the urgent call at Ho-yang–
I can still cook morning gruel for your men.”
The night drew on, but talking stopped;
It seemed I heard only half-concealed sobs.
As I got back on the road at daybreak,
Only the old man was there to see me off.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
I Pass The Night At General Headquarters by Tu Fu
A clear night in harvest time.
In the courtyard at headquarters
The wu-tung tree grows cold.
In the city by the river
I wake alone by a guttering
Candle. All night long bugle
Calls disturb my thoughts. The splendor
Of the moonlight floods the sky.
Who bothers to look at it?
Whirlwinds of dust, I cannot write.
The frontier pass is unguarded.
It is dangerous to travel.
Ten years wandering, sick at heart.
I perch here like a bird on a
Twig, thankful for a moment’s peace.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Night by Tu Fu
Flutes mourn on the city wall. It is dusk:
the last birds cross our village graveyard,
and after decades of battle, their war-tax
taken, people return in deepening night.
Trees darken against cliffs. Leaves fall.
The river of stars faintly skirting beyond
frontier passes, I gaze at a tilting Dipper,
the moon thin, magpies done with flight.
translated by David Hinton
Leonard Durso 