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
I’m living upstream and you downstream
Day by day, you are the one I am missing.
Even if we can’t meet,
We are in the same drink.
The time when the water stops flowing,
Is the time of the end of my grief.
I’m wishing your heart was also missing me.
Then my pining for you has a meaning.
translated by Edison Lai
Thanks to Qiaoen for sharing this.
The Fragrant red lotuses have Withered away,
My jade-like mat turns cool on autumn day
Lightly putting off my skirt or silky coat,
Alone I boarded the pretty boat
Looking back, the wild geese fly
Who’s to send me a letter through clouds sky?
My west chamber window’s full of moonlight
Flowers drift alone out of the smell
The creek running alone is natural
There’s one kind of love sickness
Coming from two places with sadness
No way could cure such a sickness
Just falling down from my eyebrows
Into my heart with sorrows
translated by Zhu Manhua
with thanks to Qiaoen for passing it my way
I remember long ago when you and I were boys;
each year we dropped our books and raced to the fair.
Peddlers outdid each other hawking goods;
peasants stood gaping, ripe to be cheated–
when your poem came it brought back those times again.
I grieve less for home than for the years that are lost.
translated by Burton Watson
Spring breezes erase the flowers,
leaving me in a state of yin.
This quiet downhill road leads by
a half-hidden bower where I’ll make my bed.
Straw sandals, a walking stick–
I wander the world alone,
only a few northern birds pass by
like the memory of a beautiful song.
translated by Sam Hamill
I only hear a bell beyond the mist,
can’t see the mist-wrapped temple.
The man secluded there never stops walking–
dew from the grass soaks his straw sandals–
nothing but the mountaintop moon
each night to light his comings and goings.
translated by Burton Watson
At spring’s end, I long for home,
feverish, my tangled hair uncombed.
All day, swallows squabble in the eaves.
Breezes bring the scent of roses through the screen.
translated by Sam Hamill
Pleading eyebrows, intoxicating eyes!
When I first looked at you, I knew my heart was lost.
Do you remember that time in the west–
your billowing, cloudlike hair,
your best silk stockings, your lilac tongue?
You said to me, “When was I treated so well?”
But before the clouds and rain,
east winds blew everything away.
I’m grieving still,
but heaven doesn’t hear.
translated by Sam Hamill
Faint clouds caress the mountains
where blue sky enters dry grass.
From the watchtower, a lone horn sounds.
Suddenly, I want to stop my little boat
and share a farewell cup of wine.
Our time together was a glimpse of paradise.
But it is futile to remember—
only the mist remains.
translated by Sam Hamill
Rain brings flowers to this road each spring,
flowers to paint the hills with colors.
I hike along a secret steam
Among a thousand yellow orioles.
Clouds take shapes of dragon and snake,
soaring, turning in the air.
I lie in wisteria shade, so drunk
I don’t even know directions.
translated by Sam Hamill
WHEREVER YOU GO, GO WITH ALL YOUR HEART.
Travel stories to inspire the wanderer.
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
Se hai un problema, aggiungi cioccolato.
Dream, Learn & Improvise
It is all about words. Your words are enough to shatter someone's heart. Your words are enough to make a broken heart unbroken. Words have the power to change your life perspectives.
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Let your soul burn a flame in this world. Be damned to make a difference.
In happiness my words I lack, in grief they overflow.
Geziler, konserler, etkinlikler, kitaplar, yemekler. Bir çeşit günlük.
Le blog des Jumelles - Passionnées par la communication, l'événementiel et le tourisme, nous sommes ravie de vous partager ici notre quotidien (Lifestyle). Nous vous souhaitons une bonne visite ! :)
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Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told
I'm just a pocket poet.
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