Idle sleep in a small pavilion clears away the ease of wine:
mountain pomegranate and sea cypress, branches tangled
together on a rippling-water bed-mat, pillows of amber:
and nearby, a fallen hairpin, a pair of kingfisher feathers.
translated by David Hinton
Kids keep tugging at my robes, asking:
Why did it take you so long to come back?
And who were you fighting those months
and years to win all that silk-white hair?
translated by David Hinton
These mountains emerald clouds at the far end of distance.
In tonight’s clarity, one sound: a whisper of white snow.
I’m sending thoughts of you a thousand miles of moonlight:
scraps of light along canyon streams, haze of steady rain.
translated by David Hinton
Steady and full, all surging swells and white gulls in flight,
it flows springtime deep, a green so pure it should dye robes.
Going south and coming back north, I’ve grown older, older.
Late light lingers, farewell to a fishing boat bound for home.
translated by David Hinton
A thousand goblets at the farewell feast
can’t dilute my sorrow,
my heart at separation is twisted
in a hundred unyielding knots.
Tender orchids wilt and wither,
return to the garden of spring;
willow trees, here and there,
moor travelers’ boats.
In meeting and parting I lament
the unsettled clouds;
love and affection should learn from the river
in flowing on and on.
I know we won’t meet again
in the season of blossoms,
and I won’t sit by quietly
drunk in my chamber.
translated by Jan W. Walls
Climbing far into the cold mountains, the rocky path steepens
and houses grow rare. Up here where white clouds are born,
I stop to sit for a while, savoring maple forests in late light,
frost-glazed leaves lit reds deeper than any spring blossoms.
translated by David Hinton
Frosty skies open empty depths of wind.
Moonlight floods fulling-stones clarities.
As the dream ends, I am dying at night:
I am beside a beautiful woman, thoughts
deepening–a leaf trees shed in the dark,
a lone goose leaving borderlands behind.
Then I’m in travel clothes, setting out,
heart and mind all distances beyond sky.
translated by David Hinton
Festivals abound in this mountain town
on Earth God Day officials stay home
sitting upstairs feeling bored
I walked out to the pond for the light
spring wind rustled the willows
I shut the garden gate at dusk
as I thought of you together in our village
disappointment slipped into my heart
translated by Red Pine
We drink deeply beneath dragon bamboo,
our lamp faint, the moon cold again.
On the sandbar, startled by drunken song,
a snowy egret lifts away past midnight.
translated by David Hinton
Yin and Yang cut brief autumn days short. Frost and snow
Clear, leaving a cold night open at the edge of heaven.
Marking the fifth watch, grieving drums and horns erupt as
A river of stars, shadows trembling, drifts in Three Gorges.
Pastoral weeping–war heard in how many homes? And tribal
Songs drifting from the last woodcutters and fishermen. . . . .
Chu-ko Liang, Pai-ti: all brown earth in the end. And it
Opens, the story of our lives opens away. . . .vacant, silent.
translated by David Hinton
note: Chu-ko Liang & Pai-ti were both state ministers: one famous, the other infamous. Thus,Tu Fu uses another set of opposites in this poem.
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
A virtual cabaret of songs, stories and questionable life choices.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet and author by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Leonard Durso 