Man lives his life in a dust bowl,
Just like vermin in the middle of the pot:
All day going round and round,
Never getting out from the inside.
Blessedness is not our lot:
Only nettlesomeness without end.
Time is like a flowing river—
One day, we wake up old men.
translated by Eugene Eoyang
Han Shan
from Han-shan 5
Last night I dreamt I went home
and saw my wife at her loom
she stopped the shuttle as if in thought
then raised it as if without strength
I called and she turned to look
she looked but didn’t know me
I guess we’d been apart too many years
and my temples weren’t their old color
translated by Red Pine
from Han-shan 4
Painted beams aren’t for me
the forest is my home
a lifetime suddenly passes by
don’t think your cares will wait
those who build no raft to cross
drown while gathering flowers
unless you plant good roots today
you’ll never see a bud
translated by Red Pine
from Han-shan 3
When will the treadmill of life and death stop
each rebirth gets more confusing
until we discover the jewel of our mind
we’re like blind mules following our feet
translated by Red Pine
from Han-shan 2
Men these days search for a way through the clouds,
But the cloud way is dark and without sign.
The mountains are high and often steep and rocky;
In the broadest valleys the sun seldom shines.
Green crests before you and behind,
White clouds to east and west–
Do you want to know where the cloud way lies?
There it is, in the midst of the Void!
translated by Burton Watson
from Han-shan
A man lives on rose-colored clouds
shunned the usual haunts for a home
every season is equally dead
summer is just like fall
a dark stream always babbles
a towering pine wind sighs
sitting here less than one day
he forgets a whole lifetime of sorrow
translated by Red Pine
from an untitled poem by Han Shan
Time is like a flowing river—
One day, we wake up old men.
translated bvy Eugene Eoyang
from Cold Mountain Poems of Han Shan: 5
My mind is like the autumn moon
clear and bright in a pool of jade
nothing can compare
what more can I say
translated by Red Pine
from Cold Mountain Poems of Han Shan: 4
The peach would bloom through summer
but the wind and moon won’t wait
search for a man of the Han
could one of them still be alive
day after day the petals drift down
year after year we move on
where we raise the dust today
long ago was an endless sea
translated by Red Pine
from Cold Mountain Poems of Han Shan: 3
What makes a young man grieve
he grieves to see his hair turn white
besides that what makes him grieve
he grieves to see the day draw near
he goes to stay on Taishan
or leaves to guard Peimang
how can I bear to speak these words
these words pain an old man
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 