Tu Fu

New Moon by Tu Fu

/ zdunno03 / 2 Comments

The bright, thin, new moon appears,
Tıpped askew in the heavens.
It no sooner shines over
The ruined fortress than the
Evening clouds overwhelm it.
The Milky Way shines unchanging
Over the freezing mountains
Of the border. White frost covers
The garden. The chrysanthemums
Clot and freeze in the night.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Full Moon by Tu Fu

/ zdunno03 / 3 Comments

Isolate and full, the moon
Floats over the house by the river.
Into the night the cold water rushes away beyond the gate.
The bright gold spilled on the river is never still.
The brilliance of my quilt is greater than precious silk.
The circle without blemish.
The empty mountain without sound.
The moon hangs in the vacant, wide constellations.
Pine cones drop in the old garden.
The senna trees bloom.
The same clear glory extends for ten thousand miles.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Snow Storm by Tu Fu

/ zdunno03 / 5 Comments

Tumult, weeping, many new ghosts.
Heartbroken, aging, alone, I sing
To myself. Ragged mist settles
In the spreading dusk. Snow skurries
In the coiling wind. The wineglass
Is spilled. The bottle is empty.
The fire has gone out in the stove.
Everywhere men speak in whispers.
I brood on the uselessness of letters.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Clear After Rain by Tu Fu

/ zdunno03 / 4 Comments

Autumn, cloud blades on the horizon.
The west wind blows from ten thıousand miles.
Dawn, in the early morning air,
Farmers busy after a long rain.
The desert trees shed their few good leaves.
The mountain pears are tiny but ripe.
A tartar flute plays by the city gate.
A single wild goose climbs into the void.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Sunset by Tu Fu

/ zdunno03 / 4 Comments

Sunset glitters on the beads
Of the curtains. Spring flowers
Bloom in the valley. The gardens
Along the river are filled
With perfume. Smoke of cooking
Fires drifts over the slow barges.
Sparrows hop and tumble in
The branches. Whirling insects
Swarm in the air. Who discovered
That one cup of thick wine
Will dispel a thousand cares?

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Brimming Water by Tu Fu

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Under my feet the moon
Glides along the river.
Near midnight, a gusty lantern
Shines in the heart of night.
Along the sandbars flocks
Of white egrets roost,
Each one clenched like a fist.
In the wake of my barge
The fish leap, cut the water,
And dive and splash.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Recruiting Officer of Shih-hao by Tu Fu

/ zdunno03 / 11 Comments

At dusk I sought lodging at Shih-hao village,
When a recruiting officer came to seize men at night.
An old man scaled the wall and fled,
His old wife came out to answer the door.

How furious was the officer’s shout!
How pitiable was the woman’s cry!
I listened as she stepped forward to speak:
“All my three sons have left for garrison duty at Yeh;
From one of them a letter just arrived,
Saying my two sons had newly died in battle.
Survivors can manage to live on,
But the dead are gone forever.
Now there’s no other man in the house,
Only a grandchild at his mother’s breast.
THe child’s mother has gone away;
She has only a tattered skirt to wear.
An old woman I am feeble and weak,
But I will gladly leave with you tonight
To answer the urgent call at Ho-yang–
I can still cook morning gruel for your men.”

The night drew on, but talking stopped;
It seemed I heard only half-concealed sobs.
As I got back on the road at daybreak,
Only the old man was there to see me off.

translated by Irving Y. Lo

I Pass The Night At General Headquarters by Tu Fu

/ zdunno03 / 2 Comments

A clear night in harvest time.
In the courtyard at headquarters
The wu-tung tree grows cold.
In the city by the river
I wake alone by a guttering
Candle. All night long bugle
Calls disturb my thoughts. The splendor
Of the moonlight floods the sky.
Who bothers to look at it?
Whirlwinds of dust, I cannot write.
The frontier pass is unguarded.
It is dangerous to travel.
Ten years wandering, sick at heart.
I perch here like a bird on a
Twig, thankful for a moment’s peace.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Night by Tu Fu

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Flutes mourn on the city wall. It is dusk:
the last birds cross our village graveyard,

and after decades of battle, their war-tax
taken, people return in deepening night.

Trees darken against cliffs. Leaves fall.
The river of stars faintly skirting beyond

frontier passes, I gaze at a tilting Dipper,
the moon thin, magpies done with flight.

translated by David Hinton