mountains rivers
to cross
an ancient road
leading to cherished goods
a traveler embarks
on foot
uncertain of what awaits
at the final destination
journey
the pounding of one’s heart
step
by step
along an oft times
perilous journey
one walks runs
perhaps crawls
toward the vision
one beheld
before doubt
fear confusion
clouded one’s eyes
there
lies the path
toward the source
of the pounding
of one’s heart
the long way
seem to be taking
the long way
home
searching for the great white whale
not like Ahab
not for vengeance
nor capture
nor profit
but for the quest
for the open sea
speak to me of winding roads
speak to me
of winding roads
the setting sun
just over the horizon
and miles to go
in our handmade cart
before the inevitable
darkness overwhelms us
Seven Thousand Miles Away by Su Tung-p’o
Seven thousand miles away, a gray-haired man;
eighteen rapids, one little boat:
hills recall Hsi-huan–thoughts roam far away;
“fearful” they call this place–it makes me want to cry.
A long wind follows us, bellying the sail;
rain-fed current bears the boat through rippled shallows.
With my experience, they ought to make me official boatman–
I know more of rivers than merely where the ferries cross.
translated by Burton Watson
On the road to Ch’ang-an by Liu Yung
On the road to Ch’ang-an my horse goes slowly.
In the tall willows a confusion of cicada cries.
Slanting sun beyond the isles,
and winds of autumn on the plain. Only
where the heavens hang,
the view cut off.
The clouds go back, but
gone, they leave no track.
Where is the past?
Unused to indulgence, a little
wine’s no consolation.
It’s not
as it was
when I was young.
translated by J.P. Seaton
A Farewell To Meng Hao-jan On His Way To Yang-chou by Li Po (Li Bei)
You have left me behind, old friend, at 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
