Fireflies from the Enchanted Mountains
come through the screen this autumn evening
and settle on my shirt
my lute and my books grow cold
outside, above the eaves
they are hard to tell from the stars
they sail over the well
each reflecting a mate
in the garden they pass chrysanthemums
flares of color against the dark
white-haired and sad
I try to read their code
wanting a prediction:
will I be here next year
to watch them?
translated by David Young
I had always heard of Lake Tung-t’ing–
And now at last I have climbed to this tower.
With Wu country to the east of me and Ch’u to the south,
I can see heaven and earth endlessly floating.
. . .But no word has reached me from kin or friends.
I am old and sick and alone with my boat.
North of this wall there are wars and mountains–
And here by the rail how can I help crying?
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
If you draw a bow, draw the strongest,
If you use an arrow, use the longest:
To shoot a man, first shoot his horse,
To capture rebels, first capture their chief.
In killing men, also, there are limits,
And each state has its own borders.
So long as invasion can be curbed,
What’s the use of much killing?
translated by Ronald C. Miao
Sharpen the sword in the Sobbing Water,
The water reddens, the blade wounds my hand.
How much I want to hush the sound of anguish;
Too long entangled are the strands of my heart!
When a man of courage promises life to his country,
Then what is there to regret and lament?
Deeds of fame live on in the Unicorn Pavilion,
Bones of soldiers will quickly decay.
translated by Irving Y. Lo
Sad, sad they leave their old village,
Far, far they go to the Chiao River.
Officials have an appointed time of arrival,
To flee from orders is to run afoul of capture.
The ruler is already rich in lands,
Expanding the frontier brings no gain!
Abandoned forever is the love of father, mother,
Sobbing, they march away with spears on their backs.
translated by Ronald Miao
women like goddesses
are dancing inside
all silk and perfume
guests in sable furs
music of pipes and fiddles
camel-pad broth being served
with frosted oranges and pungent tangerines
behind those red gates
meat and wine are left to spoil
outside lie the bones
of people who starved and froze
luxury and misery a few feet apart!
my heart aches to think about it.
translated by David Young
Visiting my father in East District
I finally looked out from South Tower
clouds stretched beyond Taishan to the sea
barren land spread through Hsu and Chingchou
the outline of the stele of Ch’in was still there
the walls of Lu Palace were rubble
I\ve always been drawn to the past
but this time my heart trembled
translated by Red Pine
Returning, waves high and south winds strong, I
Fear sunsets. But tonight, a dazzling lake
Stretches into distant heavens–as if any moment,
On this raft of immortals, I will drift away.
translated by David Hinton
How long before I’ve grown feathers and wings
and settled beside you at the end of flight?
translated by David Hinton
On Witch Mountain the fireflies flit in the autumn night:
Cleverly they enter the open lattice to alight on my clothes.
Suddenly I am startled at the coldness of my lute and books in the room;
Then I confuse the fireflies’ light with the sparse stars over the eaves.
Rounding the well’s railings, they come in an endless file;
Passing by chance the flower petals, they gambol and glow.
On this cold riverbank, my hair white, I feel sad when I look at them–
By this time next year, shall I have returned home?
translated by Wu-chi Liu
Being Present for the Moment
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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
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
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