If you were to ask me why I dwell among green mountains,
I should laugh silently; my soul serene.
The peach blossom follows the moving water;
There is another heaven and earth beyond the world of men.
translated by Robert Payne
Chinese poet
Parting at a Wine-shop in Nan-king by Li Po
A wind, bringing willow-cotton, sweetens the shop,
And a girl from Wu, pouring wine, urges me to share it
With my comrades of the city who are here to see me off;
And as each of them drains his cup, I say to him in parting,
Oh, go and ask the river running to the east
If it can travel faster than a friend’s love!
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
from Hard Roads in Shu by Li Po (Li Bai)
. . .Though the City of Silk be delectable, I would rather turn home quickly.
Such traveling is harder than scaling the blue sky. . .
But I still face westward with a dreary moan.
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
Upon Seeing the Fireflies by Tu Fu
On Witch Mountain the fireflies flit in the autumn night:
Cleverly they enter the open lattice to alight on my clothes.
Suddenly I am startled at the coldness of my lute and books in the room;
Then I confuse the fireflies’ light with the sparse stars over the eaves.
Rounding the well’s railings, they come in an endless file;
Passing by chance the flower petals, they gambol and glow.
On this cold riverbank, my hair white, I feel sad when I look at them–
By this time next year, shall I have returned home?
translated by Wu-chi Liu
With My Brother At The South Study by Wang Ch’ang-ling
Lying on a high seat in the south study,
We have lifted the curtain–and we see the rising moon
Brighten with pure light the water and the grove
And flow like a wave on our window and our door.
It will move through the cycle, full moon and then crescent again,
Calmly, beyond our wisdom, altering new to old.
. . .Our chosen one, our friend, is now by a limpid river–
Singing, perhaps, a plaintive eastern song.
He is far, far away from us, three hundred miles away,
And yet a breath of orchids comes along the wind.
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
Listening To Lu Tzu-hsün Play The Ch’in On A Moonlit Night by Li Po (Li Bai)
The night’s lazy, the moon bright. Sitting
here, a recluse plays his pale white ch’in,
and suddenly, as if cold pines were singing,
it’s all those harmonies of grieving wind.
Intricate fingers flurries of white snow,
empty thoughts emerald-water clarities:
No one understands now. Those who could
hear a song this deeply vanished long ago.
translated by David Hinton
Through The Yang-tsze Gorges by Li Po (Li Bai)
From the walls of Po-ti high in the coloured dawn
To Kiang-ling by night-fall is three hundred miles,
Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me
To my boat these ten thousand mountains away.
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
A Farewell To Meng Hao-jan On His Way To Yang-chou by Li Po (Li Bai)
You have left me behind, old friend, at the Yellow Crane Terrace,
On your way to visit Yang-chou in the misty month of flowers;
Your sail, a single shadow, becomes one with the blue sky,
Till now I see only the river, on its way to heaven.
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
To Li Po At The Sky’s End by Tu Fu
A cold wind blows from the far sky. . .
What are you thinking of, old friend?
The wild geese never answer me.
Rivers and lakes are flooded with rain.
. . .A poet should beware of prosperity,
Yet demons can haunt a wanderer.
Ask an unhappy ghost, throw poems to him
Where he drowned himself in the Mi-lo River.
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
Endless Yearning: poem 2 by Li Po (Li Bai)
The sun has set, and a mist is in the flowers;
And the moon grows very white and people sad and sleepless.
A Chao harp has just been laid mute on its phoenix-holder,
And a Shu lute begins to sound its mandarin-duck strings. . .
Since nobody can bear to you the burden of my song,
Would that it might follow the spring wind to Yen-jan Mountain.
I think of you far away, beyond the blue sky,
And my eyes that once were sparkling
Are now a well of tears.
. . .Oh, if ever you should doubt this aching of my heart,
Here in my bright mirror come back and look at me!
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-ho
Leonard Durso 