Nurture the tender blossoms there, don’t wait.
No flowers to be plucked
from empty bough.
translated by J.P. Seaton
Sung Dynasty
Rapt in Wine by Su Shih (Su Tung-p’o)
Rapt in wine against the mountain rains,
dressed I dozed in evening brightness,
and woke to hear the watch drum striking dawn.
In dreams I was a butterfly,
my joyful body light.
I grow old, my talents are used up,
but still I plot toward the return. . .
to find a field and take a cottage
where I can laugh at heroes,
and pick my way among the muddy puddles
on a lakeside path.
translated by J.P. Seaton
Presented to Liu Ching-wen by Su Shih (Su Tung-p’o)
Lotus withered, no more umbrellas to the rain.
A single branch, chrysanthemum stands against the frost.
The good sights of the year: remember those,
and now too: citrons yellow, tangerines still green.
translated by J.P. Seaton
from Long Ago I Lived in the Country by Su Tung-p’o
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
because Paol Soren asked: Sorrow of Departure to the Tune “Cutting a Flowering Plum Branch” by Li Ch’ing-chao
Red lotus incense fades on
The jeweled curtain. Autumn
Comes again. Gently I open
My silk dress and float alone
On the orchid boat. Who can
Take a letter beyond the clouds?
Only the wild geese come back
And write their ideograms
On the sky under the full
Moon that floods the West Chamber.
Flowers, after their kind, flutter
And scatter. Water after
Its nature, when spilt, at last
Gathers again in one place.
Creatures of the same species
Long for each other. But we
Are far apart and I have
Grown learned in sorrow.
Nothing can make it dissolve
And go away. One moment
It is on my eyebrows.
The next, it weighs on my heart.
translated by Kenneth Rexroth & Ling Chung
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
Leonard Durso 