Colleagues have scattered and gates are closed
the calling of birds fills a mountain town
our parting on the Yangtze seems so long ago
I notice the empty mat beside me
the boats on South Lake are moored because of rain
the screens at North Tower are rolled up due to wind
wine-tasting parties are canceled
I regret our time together has passed
translated by Red Pine
Wei Ying-wu
this seems appropriate now with the hard winter approaching: To My Cousins by Wei Ying-wu
Late last year when the capital was being looted
I sent letters by back roads to see if you survived
your answer has suddenly fallen from the sky
all we know of each other are a thousand streams of tears
translated by Red Pine
Written in Response to Court Gentleman Liu on Meeting and Parting at the South Wall on the Way Back to Yangchou on a Spring Day by Wei Ying-wu
The third month in Yangchou the city was in bloom
we met and got drunk among the flowers
we were going different directions but not very far
what the evening tide took away the morning tide brought back
translated by Red Pine
On Encountering Evening Rain While Seeing Off Li Wei by Wei Ying-wu
River of Ch’u in light rain
evening bells of Chienyeh
rows of sails spreading out
birds disappearing slowly
Ocean Gate too far to see
riverside trees a distant green
there’s no end to goodbye
a pair of silk streams soak my sleeves
translated by Red Pine
After Waiting for Censor Yuan and Professor Li at Tungte Temple, When Neither Arrives, I Send Each a Poem by Wei Ying-wu
The courtyard trees are suddenly dark
why didn’t my old friend come
it must be because he hates the heat
and spends his days on a frost-covered terrace
The glory of office comes with its burdens
retired life too means less time together
I watched for you from the upper story
until the blue ridges were almost black
translated by Red Pine
Happily Meeting an Old Friend from Liangchuan on the Huai by Wei Ying-wu
When we were both guests in Chianghan
whenever we met we left drunk
we’ve been drifting clouds ever since
following rivers ten years now
the happiness we feel is the same
though our hair has thinned and turned gray
why haven’t we gone home
and left these autumn hills on the Huai
translated by Red Pine
Climbing a Tower: To Councillor Wang by Wei Ying-wu
I hate climbing mountains and towers without you
the clouds and sea of Ch’u and memories never end
the sound of mallets at the foot of leafless hills
in a perfecture of brambles and winter rain
translated by Red Pine
Autumn Night: A Letter Sent To Ch’iu by Wei Ying-wu
Thinking of you, in autumn night,
Strolling, chanting the cool air.
Empty mountain: pine cones fall.
Secluded man: staying up, still?
translated by Wai-lim Yip
The Call of the Cuckoo by Wei Ying-wu
Dew drips from tall trees on a clear summer night
in the hills to the south a cuckoo calls
the widow next door comforts her child
I turn in bed and wait for first light
translated by Red Pine
Events on West Stream: For Lu She by Wei Ting-wu
My bedroom door overlooks a jade stream
the stillness of dawn drives cares away
a fine rain reaches deserted woods
ripples spread across the water
nothing else happens all day
in the mountains the sound of an axe
you’ve lived amid dust and noise too long
come loosen those troublesome hat strings awhile
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 