Su Tung P’o (Su Shi)

South Hall by Su Tung-p’o

/ zdunno03 / 3 Comments

Sweep the floor, burn incense, close the door to sleep;
a mat marked like water, curtains like mist.
I dream a guest comes, wake wondering where I am,
prop open the west window on waves that meet the sky.

translated  by Burton Watson

Moon, Flowers, Man by Su Tung P’o

/ zdunno03 / 5 Comments

I raise my cup and invite
The moon to come down from the
Sky. I hope she will accept
Me. I raise my cup and ask
The branches, heavy with flowers,
To drink with me. I wish them
Long life and promise never
To pick them. In company
With the moon and the flowers,
I get drunk, and none of us
Ever worries about good
Or bad. How many people
Can comprehend our joy? I
Have wine and moon and flowers.
Who else do I want for drinking companions?

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

The End of the Year by Su Tung P’o (Su Shi)

/ zdunno03 / 6 Comments

When a friend starts on a journey of a thousand miles,
As he is about to leave, he delays again and again.
When men part, they feel they may never meet again.
When a year has gone, how will you ever find it again?
I wonder where it has gone, this year that is ended?
Certainly someplace far beyond the horizon.
It is gone like a river which flows to the East,
And empties into the sea without hope of return.
My neighbors on the left are heating wine.
On the right they are roasting a fat pig.
They will have one day of joy
As recompense for a whole year of trouble.
Will we leave so carelessly the years to come?
Everything passes, everything
Goes, and never looks back,
And we grow older and less strong.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth