At spring’s end, I long for home,
feverish, my tangled hair uncombed.
All day, swallows squabble in the eaves.
Breezes bring the scent of roses through the screen.
translated by Sam Hamill
Li Ch’ing-chao
Sand of the Washing Stream by Li Ch’ing-chao
Beyond barred windows,
shadows cover the garden,
shadows slide over the curtain
as I play my lute in silence.
Distant mountains stretch the sunset,
breezes bring clouds and rain.
The pear blossoms fade and die,
and I can’t keep them from falling.
translated by Sam Hamill
from Clear Bright by Li Ch’ing-chao
My friend, while you’re alive
And have wine, use it to get drunk.
There’ll be no second helpings
When you get to the Nine Springs.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
“Fallen faded petals” by Li Ch’ing-chao
Fallen faded petals the color of my rouge. . .
One year, another spring,
willow catkins lightly fly, bamboo shoots become bamboo
and alone and sad I face the garden’s new-sent green.
But though he’s not done roaming, that time must be near.
In a clear dream of last year come from a thousand miles
cloudy city, winding streams, ice on the ponds
for a while I gazed on my friend.
translated by James Cryer
Tune: “Pure Serene Music” by Li Ch’ing-chao
Year after year in the snow
we’d pick plum blossoms while we drank,
Pulling at the petals to no good purpose,
drenching our clothes with pure white tears.
This year I’m at the end of the world,
strand by strand my hair turns grey.
Judging by the force of the evening wind
plum blossoms will be hard to come by.
translated by Eugene Eoyang
Thoughts from the Women’s Quarters by Li Ch’ing-chao
On her face, hibiscus lovely, an incipient smile.
Poised in flight, the jeweled duck’s beak. Incense wreathed
eyes alight, beneath the quilt she suspects
his frivolity hides a more expressive depth;
folds his elegant letter,
places it next her secret heart.
When the moon has gone,
the flowers in shadow,
I will come again.
translated by James Cryer
because Paol Soren asked: Sorrow of Departure to the Tune “Cutting a Flowering Plum Branch” by Li Ch’ing-chao
Red lotus incense fades on
The jeweled curtain. Autumn
Comes again. Gently I open
My silk dress and float alone
On the orchid boat. Who can
Take a letter beyond the clouds?
Only the wild geese come back
And write their ideograms
On the sky under the full
Moon that floods the West Chamber.
Flowers, after their kind, flutter
And scatter. Water after
Its nature, when spilt, at last
Gathers again in one place.
Creatures of the same species
Long for each other. But we
Are far apart and I have
Grown learned in sorrow.
Nothing can make it dissolve
And go away. One moment
It is on my eyebrows.
The next, it weighs on my heart.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
To The Tune, Plum Blossoms Fall And Scatter by Li Ch’ing Chao
The perfume of the red water lilies
Dies away. The Autumn air
Penetrates the pearl jade curtain.
Torches gleam on the orchid boats.
Who has sent me a message
Of love from the clouds? It is
The time when the wild swans
Return. The moonlight floods the women’s
Quarters. Flowers, after their
Nature, whirl away in the wind.
Split water, after its nature
Flows together at the lowest point.
Those who are of one being
Can never stop thinking of each other.
But, ah, my dear, we are apart,
And I have become used to sorrow.
This love–nothing can ever
Make it fade or disappear.
For a moment it was on my eyebrows,
Now it is heavy in my heart.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Spring Ends by Li Ch’ing-chao
The wind stops.
Nothing is left of Spring but fragrant dust.
Although it is late in the day,
I have been too exhausted to comb my hair.
Our furniture is just the same,
But he no longer exists.
I am unable to do anything at all,
Before I can speak my tears choke me.
I hear that Spring at Two Rivers
Is still beautiful.
I had hoped to take a boat there,
But I am afraid my little boat
Is too small to ever reach Two Rivers,
Laden with my heavy heart.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
Written By Chance by Li Ch’ing-chao
Fifteen years ago, beneath moonlight and flowers,
I walked with you
We composed flower-viewing poems together.
Tonight the moonlight and flowers are just the same
But how can I ever hold in my arms the same love.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
Leonard Durso 