Leg broken on the sandy shore, a goose
hobbles along like a man, wings splayed:
what will it do when evening rains come
and the cold wind starts ripping through?
Sodden feathers mud-strained, arched neck
shrinking back—it doesn’t utter a sound.
That’s their life exactly. Guess it’s better
than lugging weapons around some war.
translated by David Hinton
Mei Yao-Ch’en
Aboard a Boat at Night, Drinking with My Wife by Mei Yao-ch’en
The moon appears from the mouth of the sheer bluff,
its light shining behind the boat over there.
I sit drinking alone with my wife;
how much better than facing some dreary stranger!
The moonlight slowly spreads over our mat,
dark shadows bit by bit receding.
What need is there to fetch a torch?
We’ve joy enough in this light alone.
translated by Burton Watson
Leonard Durso 