You who have come from my old country,
Tell me what has happened there!–
Was the plum, when you passed my silken window,
Opening its first cold blossom?
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
Wang Wei
In A Retreat Among Bamboos by Wang Wei
Leaning alone in the close bamboos,
I am playing my lute and humming a song
Too softly for anyone to hear–
Except my comrade, the bright moon.
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
On Returning to Sung Mountain by Wang Wei
The clear stream girdles the long copse,
Carriage horses amble with ease, with ease.
Flowing water seems to be purposeful.
Evening birds in pairs return.
Barren city walls overlook the cold ford,
Fading sunlight fills the autumn mountains.
Far and distant–below Sung’s height;
I’ve come home, and close the gate.
translated by Paul Kroll
Leonard Durso 