What can melt a traveler’s grief?
Opening your letter I see the words in your fine hand.
Rain sprinkles a thousand peaks,
Tartar winds bleach ten thousand leaves.
Morning, word by word, I see the light blue jade;
Evening, page by page, I hum beneath my quilt.
I hide this letter in a scented box,
And when I’m sad, I take it out again.
translated by Geoffrey Waters
T’ang Dynasty
Weaving Love-Knots 2 by Hsüeh T’ao
Two hearts: two blades of grass I braid together.
He is gone, who knew the music of my soul.
Autumn in the heart, as the links are broken.
Now he is gone, I break my lute.
But Spring hums everywhere: the nesting birds
Are stammering out their sympathy for me.
translated by Carolyn Kizer
Weaving Love-Knots by Hsüeh T’ao
Daily the wind-flowers age, and so do I.
Happiness, long deferred, is deferred again.
Of sand and ocean, the horizon line
Lies in the middle distance of the dream.
Because our lives cannot be woven together,
My fingers plait the same grasses, over and over.
translated by Carolyn Kizer
Parting Is Hard by An Anonymous Palace Woman
Parting is hard, I’ll tell you twice.
Fallen petals in the wind make me sad again.
When you came, the plum bloomed through the snow.
When you left, the willows were in their spring glory.
Time and seasons hasten the traveler,
there is good weather again on the homeward road.
The world of cares is already far behind:
In a murky dream, I see your face again.
translated by Geoffrey Waters
Written On a Leaf by an Anonymous Palace Woman
Since I entered the inner rooms
I haven’t seen the spring.
I write this poem on a fallen leaf
and send it out to a wandering man.
translated by Geoffrey Waters
Spring-Gazing Song by Hsüeh T’ao
Blossoms crowd the branches: too beautiful to endure.
Thinking of you, I break into bloom again.
One morning soon, my tears will mist the mirror.
I see the future, and I will not see.
translated by Carolyn Kizer
To Tzu-an by Yü Hsüan-chi
Parting, a thousand cups won’t wash away the sorrow.
Separation is a hundred knots I can’t untie.
After a thaw, orchids bloom, spring returns,
Willows catch on pleasure boats again.
We meet and part, like the clouds, never fixed.
I’ve learned that love is like the river.
We won’t meet again this spring,
But I can’t rest yet, winesick in Jade Tower.
translated by Geoffrey Waters
At the End of Spring by Yü Hsüan-chi
Deep lane, poor families; I have few friends.
He stayed behind only in my dream.
Fragrant silk scents the breeze: whose party?
A song comes carried in the wind: from where?
Drums in the street wake me at dawn.
In the courtyard, magpies mourn a spoiled spring.
How do we get the life we want?
I am a loosed boat floating a thousand miles.
translated by Geoffrey Waters
Song of the Merchant by Li Po
On heaven’s wind, a sea traveler
wanders by boat through distances.
It’s like a bird among the clouds:
once gone, gone without a trace.
translated by David Hinton
South of the Yangtze, Thinking of Spring by Li Po
How many times will I see spring green
again, or yellow birds tireless in song?
The road home ends at the edge of heaven.
Here beyond the river, my old hair white,
my heart flown north to cloudy passes,
I’m shadow in moonlit southern mountains.
My life a blaze of spent abundance, my old
fields and gardens buried in weeds, where
am I going? It’s year’s end, and I’m here
chanting long farewells at heaven’s gate.
translated by David Hinton
Leonard Durso 