But those days are gone—I see them only in a painting.
No one believes me when I say I regret
not staying a herdsman all my life.
translated by Burton Watson
Su Tung P’o
Bright Moon, When Did You Appear? by Su Tung-p’o
Bright moon, when did you appear?
Lifting my wine, I question the blue sky.
Tonight in the palaces and halls of heaven
what year is it, I wonder?
I would like to ride the wind, make my home there,
only I fear porphyry towers, under jade eaves,
in those high places the cold wind would be more than I could bear.
So I rise and dance and play in your pure beams,
though this human world–how can it vie with yours?
Circling red chambers,
low in the curtained door,
you light our sleeplessness.
Surely you bear us no ill will–
why then must you be so round at times when we humans are parted!
People have their griefs and joys, their togetherness and separation,
the moon its dark and clear times, its roundings and wanings.
I only hope we two may have long long lives,
may share the moon’s beauty, though a thousand miles apart.
translated by Burton Watson
from Drinking Wine by Su Tung-p’o
Free the mind–let it move with the world
and doubt nothing it finds there!
In wine I stumbled on unexpected joy.
Now I always have an empty cup in hand.
translated by Burton Watson
Su Tung-p’o on companionship
I have wine and moon and flowers.
Who else do I want for drinking companions?
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
a reposting of Epigram by Su Tung-p’o
I fish for minnows in the lake.
Just born, they have no fear of man.
And those who have learned,
Never come back to warn them.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
from The End of the Year by Su Tung-p’o
Everything passes, everything
Goes, and never looks back,
And we grow older and less strong.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth
from Under the Heaven of Our Holy Ruler by Su Tung-p’o
Bury me anywhere on the green hills
and another year in night rain grieve for me alone.
Let us be brothers in lives and lives to come,
mending then the bonds that this world breaks.
translated by Burton Watson
note: written while in prison for criticizing the empreror.
To the Tune of “Partridge Sky” by Su Tung-p’o
Mountains shine through forest breaks, bamboo hides the wall;
withered grass by small ponds, jumbled cicada cries.
White birds again and again cut across the sky;
faint scent of lotus shining pink on the water.
Beyond the village,
by old town walls,
with goosefoot cane I stroll where late sunlight turns.
Thanks to rain that fell at the third watch last night
I get another cool day in this floating world.
translated by Burton Watson
Crabapple by Su Tung-p’o
The wafting east wind and rays of sublime light
as the moon crossed the porch perfume filled the air
worried the night was late and flowers about to sleep
I held up a candle to see her red dress
translated by Red Pine
Returning to Linkao at Night by Su Tung-p’o
Drunk tonight at East Slope sobered up then drank again
it was after midnight when I finally made it home
the houseboy was asleep and snoring like thunder
I knocked on the gate but nobody answered
leaning on my cane I listened to the river
Long have I regretted this life I don’t control
will I ever stop running errands
with night about to end and a night wind on the water
I’m leaving in my sampan
to spend my last years on the river
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 