first cup
of coffee
watching ships
at sea
the gulls
my companions
peace here
on earth
peace
May 1st in Izmir, 2015
woke up
to watch the sun
light the sky
the cat
licking my arm
fresh brewed coffee
on the back balcony
the box from my office
waiting
to be unpacked
then packed again
in this transition
but for now
that breeze
sunlight on trees
a few birds
singing to me
a new day
in the rest
of my life
here
now
Sailing On The Lake To The Ching River by Lu Yu
It is Spring on the lake and
I run six or seven miles.
Sunset, I notice a few
Houses. Children are driving
Home the ducks and geese. Young girls
Are coming home carrying
Mulberry leaves and hemp. Here
In this hidden village the
Old ways still go on. The crops
Are good. Everybody is
Laughing. This old man fastens
His boat and climbs up the bank.
Tipsy, he holds fast to the vines.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Evening in the Village by Lu Yu
Here in the mountain village
Evening falls peacefully.
Half tipsy, I lounge in the
Doorway. The moon shines in the
Twilit sky. The breeze is so
Gentle the water is hardly
Ruffled. I have escaped from the
Lies and trouble. I no longer
Have any importance. I
do not miss my horses and
Chariots. Here at home I
Have plenty of pigs amd chickens.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
from my balcony
children laughing below
out back
on the lawns
the sprinklers working
overtime
in the front
and the wine
in my glass
in hand
warms what’s left
of my heart
there is peace
here
my neighbor’s acts
of kindness
the plate of dolma
the fruit
from the bazaar
and the cover
on my scooter
the driver’s grin
when I say
iyi akşamlar
the invitation
to go fishing
on weekends
in such a short time
to be at home
I lean back
in the chair
on my balcony
my feet up
a breeze caresses
my face
and I doze off
letting memories
of the past
drift away
Spring Night by Su Tung P’o
The few minutes of a Spring night
Are worth ten thousand pieces of gold.
The perfume of the flowers is so pure.
The shadows of the moon are so black.
In the pavilion the voices and flutes are so high and light.
In the garden a hammock rocks
In the night so deep, so profound.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
Climbing to Canopy Pavilion on a Summer Day by Ts’ai Ch’ueh
A paper screen a stone pillow a square bamboo bed
a book falls from my hand during a midday dream
I wake up pleased and smile to myself
at the sound of a fisherman’s lute on the waves
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 