The Brocade City might be a place for pleasure,
But it’s far better to hurry home.
The road to Shu is hard, harder than climbing to the heavens.
Sideways I look westward and heave a long sigh.
translated b y Irving Y. Lo
Li Po
from Wandering T’ai Mountain by Li Po
I bow, then bow again, deeper, ashamed
I haven’t an immortal’s talent. And yet,
boundless, I can dwindle time and space
away, losing the world in such distances!
translated by David Hinton
Drunk on T’ung-kuan Mountain, A Quatrain by Li Po
I love this T’ung-kuan joy. A thousand
years, and still I’d never leave here.
It makes me dance, my swirling sleeves
sweeping all Five-Pine Mountain clean.
translated by David HintonLi Po
Starting Up Three Gorges by Li Po
Azure heaven pinched between Wu Mountains,
riverwater keeps streaming down like this,
and with riverwater cascading so suddenly
away, we’ll never reach that azure heaven.
Three mornings we start up Huang-niu Gorge,
and three nights find we’ve gone nowhere.
Three mornings and three nights: for once
I’ve forgotten my hair turning white as silk.
translated by David Hinton
Listening to a Monk’s Ch’in Depths by Li Po
Carrying a ch’in cased in green silk, a monk
descended from O-mei Mountain in the west.
When he plays, even in a few first notes,
I hear the pines of ten thousand valleys,
and streams rinse my wanderer’s heart clean.
Echoes linger among temple frost-fall bells,
night coming unnoticed in emerald mountains,
autumn clouds banked up, gone dark and deep.
translated by David Hinton
Written on the Wall While Drunk at Wang’s House North of the Han River by Li Po
I’m like some partridge or quail—
going south, then flying lazily north.
And now I’ve come to find you here,
a little wine returns me to the moon.
translated by David Hinton
A Friend Stays The Night by Li Po
Rinsing sorrows of a thousand forevers
away, we linger out a hundred jars of wine,
the clear night’s clarity filling small talk,
a lucid moon keeping us awake. And after
we’re drunk, we sleep in empty mountains,
all heaven our blanket, earth our pillow.
translated by David Hinton
Thoughts in Night Quiet by Li Po
Seeing moonlight here at my bed
and thinking it was frost on the ground,
I look up, gaze at the mountain moon,
then back, dreaming of my old home.
translated by David Hinton
from On Autumn River, Along Po-ko Shores: 1 by Li Po
Where could evening wandering be so fine?
Here along Po-ko shores, the moon bright,
mountain light trembles on drifted snow,
and gibbon shadow hangs from cold branches.
Only when this exquisite light dies away,
only then I turn my oars and start back.
When I came, it was such bright clear joy.
Now, it’s all these thoughts of you again.
translated by David Hinton
Teasing Tu Fu by Li Po
Here on the summit of Fan-k’o Mountain, it’s Tu Fu
under a midday sun sporting his huge farmer’s hat.
How is it you’ve gotten so thin since we parted?
Must be all those poems you’ve been suffering over.
translated by David Hinton
Leonard Durso 