I drag my heavy heart
up to these dazzling heights:
this beautiful, beautiful sunset!
And then the onrushing night.
translated by Sam Hamill
T’ang Dynasty
Empty House by Yuan Chen
I leave my empty house at dawn
and ride to my empty office.
I fill the day with busywork.
At nightfall, back to my empty house.
Moonlght seeps through the cracks.
My wick has burned to ash.
My heart lies cold inHsien-yang Road,
under the wheels of a hearse.
translated by Sam Hamill
Letter Smuggled in a Fish by Yuan Chen
Your letter unfolds and unfolds forever.
I flatten it with my hands to read:
tearstrains, trarstrains and a trace of rouge
where it must have touched your cheek.
translated by Sam Hamill
a third translation of Reading Yuan Chen on a Boat by Po Chu-i
By candlelight, I read your poems.
It is almost dawn when I finish.
I rub my weary eyes
beside the guttering candle.
I sit motionless
in the predawn dark,
listening to the wind-driven waves
lapping at the bow.
translated by Sam Hamill
Dreaming of My Wife by Yuan Chen
The candle burned out, my boat is windblown.
You ask about my southern sailing:
I sat awake all night in silence,
waves pounding on the lake.
translated by Sam Hamill
Bamboo Mat by Yuan Chen
I cannot bear to put away
the bamboo sleeping mat–
that first night I brought you home,
I watched you roll it out.
translated by Sam Hamill
Peach Blossoms by Yuan Chen
Infinite peach-blossom shades,
her rouged and powdered cheeks.
Spring breezes help her break my heart,
blowing peach petals from her dress.
translated by Sam Hamill
Watching the Distances by Tu Fu
I watch the limitless distance of autumn,
the far-off dark rising up in layers
where icy waters merge with the frozen sky
and the city is blurred with mist.
Last leaves are torn into flight by winds,
and sunless, distant peaks fade fast.
A lone crane flops home at dusk.
The trees are full of crows.
translated by Sam Hamill
Reading Books by Liu Tsung-yuan
Living in obscurity I’ve given up current affairs
I bow my head in silence and reflect on the sage kings
the highs and lows of the ancient past
the ups and downs of countless paths
I laugh to myself when I’m pleased
when I’m sad I simply sigh
I take my books from their cases
I go through from front to back
despite the affliction of tropical diseases
I feel different than in the past
while reading I suddenly understand
when I’m done my mind is a blank
who can I talk with at night
if not these texts on bamboo and silk
I lie down when I get tired
after a good sleep I feel refreshed
I yawn and stretch my limbs
I read out loud to my heart’s content
I enjoy doing what suits me
not to please learned men
I shut up when I’ve said what I want
free of restraints I relax
the clever consider me stupid
the wise think I’m a fool
but reading has managed to make me happy
what good is working till you drop
cherish this body of yours
don’t use it to chase after fame
translated by Red Pine
Seeing off Yuan Er on a Mission to Anhsi by Wang Wei
Morning rain dampens the dust in Weicheng
new willow branches have turned the inn green
drink one more cup of wine my friend
west of Yang Pass there’s no one you know
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 