If those thoughts cheeping in the crowded chicken coop
Were set free–
How far could they actually fly?
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Chinese poet
from Montages in Twilight by Shu Ting
Something in the dark has to become visible.
All those things that do become visible
Are what people call the stars.
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Two-Masted Ship by Shu Ting
Fog moistens both wings
But the wind allows no dallying
O shore, beloved shore
We parted just yesterday
And you are here again today
Tomorrow at a different latitude
We shall meet along my course
Remember the storm, the lighthouse
That brought us together
Another storm, a different light
Drove us asunder again
Even though morning or evening
Sky and ocean stand between us
You are always on my voyage
I am always in your sight
translated by Fang Dai, Dennis Ding, & Edward Morin
Civilization by Yüan Chieh
To the south-east–three thousand leagues–
The Yüan and Hsiang form into a mighty lake.
Above the lake are deep mountain valleys,
And men dwelling whose hearts are without guile.
Gay like children, they swarm to the tops of trees;
And run to the water to catch bream and trout.
Their pleasures are the same as those beasts and birds;
They put no restraint either on body or mind.
Far I have wandered throughout the Nine Lands;
Wherever I went such manners had disappeared.
I find myself standing and wondering, perplexed,
Whether Saints and Sages have really done us good.
translated by Arthur Waley
On the Lake by Hsu Yuan-chien
Orioles chatter madly in trees of red blossoms
egrets converge on a lake of tall grass
everyone loves a clear mild day
boats return at dusk on waves of flutes and drums
translated by Red Pine
Replying to a Poem by Prime Minister Lu of Chinling by Tu Shen-yen
Only an impotent official
is truly surprised when things become new
red clouds giving birth to the ocean dawn
plums and willows ferrying spring across the river
clear skies inciting yellow birds
sunshine turning duckweed green
suddenly hearing a familiar tune
I think of home and dry my eyes
translated by Red Pine
On Yellow Crane Tower Hearing a Flute by Li Pai
Suddenly an exile on the way to Changsha
looking back toward Ch’ang-an I don’t see a soul
from Yellow Crane Tower I hear a jade flute
plum blossoms fall in this city in June
translated by Red Pine
Delayed on the Szechuan Road by Chang Yueh
A traveler races the sun and moon
coming and going according to plan
but autumn wind doesn’t wait
it reaches Loyang before me
translated by Red Pine
The Waters of Lung-t’ou by Hsü Ling
The road that I came by mounts eight thousand feet;
The river that I crossed hangs a hundred fathoms.
The brambles so thick that in summer one cannot pass!
The snow so high that in winter one cannot climb!
With branches that interlace Lung Valley is dark:
Against cliffs that tower one’s voice beats and echoes.
I turn my head, and it seems only a dream
That I ever lived in the streets of Hsien-yang.
translated by Arthur Waley
Po Chü-I on Lao-tzü
“Those who speak know nothing;
Those who know are silent.”
These words, as I am told,
Were spoken by Lao-tzü.
If we are to believe that Lao-tzü
Was himself one who knew,
How comes it that he wrote a book
of five thousand words?
translated by Arthur Waley
Leonard Durso 