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 the first light
translated by Red Pine
Wei Ying-wu
Entertaining Adjutant Li by Wei Ying-wu
When we were fifteen we both served at court
we climbed the red steps through incense at dawn
we toured the Han Garden in bloom
and bathed on Lishan in the snow
but the immortal has flown and isn’t expected back
his advisors are scattered assuming they’re alive
meeting you today as I think about the past
one cup makes me happy, the next one sad
translated by Red Pine
A Poem to a Taoist Hermit on Ch’uan-chiao Mountain by Wei Ying-wu
My office has grown cold today;
And I suddenly think of my mountain friend
Gathering firewood down in the valley
Or boiling white stones for potatoes in his hut. . .
I wish I might take him a cup of wine
To cheer him through the evening storm;
But in fallen leaves that have heaped the bare slope,
How should I ever find his footprints?
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
On Meeting My Friend Feng Chu in the Capital by Wei Ying-wu
Out of the east you visit me,
With the rain of Pa-ling still on your clothes,
I ask what you have come here for;
You say: “To buy an axe for cutting wood in the mountains.”
. . .Hidden deep in a haze of blossom,
Swallow fledglings chirp at ease
As they did when we parted, a year ago. . . .
How grey our temples have grown since then!
translated by Witter Bynner & Kiang Kang-hu
Grieving on the Way to Fuping by Wei Ying-wu
A bitter frost fell this morning
before the white shroud I cried
ordered on a hundred-li journey
what good would sorrow do
earlier in the prefecture office
I ran errands to towns in the district
leaving home without any worries
always coming back happy
now when I close my rickety gate
I hear our children crying
but a father has to go forth
even when there’s no mother at home
swallowing remorse hurts me inside
all the more in this bitter cold
in a one-person cart on a road so bleak
I look back and keep slowing down
a rising wind lashes the plain
geese cry out and fly off
in the past we traveled this road together
I never thought I’d be on it alone
translated by Red Pine
Lamenting My Loss by Wei Ying-wu
Like silk that’s been dyed
or wood that’s now ash
I recall the person I lived with
gone and not coming back
to whom I was wedded for twenty years
who respected me as if we just met
our betrothal occurred during troubled times
our separations were due to disasters
a model of gentleness and simplicity
she was courteous and always proper
but public office has no room for oneself
and my duties undercut her beauty
this morning when I entered the women’s quarters
the rooms were covered with dust
ever since this person left
whatever I touch is painful
a widower now I pass the time
wiping our children’s tears
I try to push my fantasies away
but these feelings are hard to stop
suddenly my daydreams look real
startled I begin pacing again
this heart is utterly relentless
and our house is surrounded by weeds
translated by Red Pine
Returning Home After a Trip by Wei Ying-wu
In the past I was glad to come home
but to sadness I now return
entering our closed sunless room
I stifle my grief and write the epitaph
I lift the dark curtain in pain
startled by a cold desolate breeze
our younger daughter doesn’t realize
she still comes into the courtyard to play
I sigh every day feeling older
dazed by the transience of life
my relatives urge me to eat
at the table my tears fall in vain
translated by Red Pine
Climbing to the Upper Section of Paoyi Temple, Which I Visited Before by Wei Ying-wu
Jade ridges and incense-veiled terraces stretch halfway to heaven
ten thousand households and mist-covered trees line the clearing river
I don’t know the monks because they’re all new
but listening to the fading bell I recall that distant year
translated by Red Pine
The Ninth by Wei Ying-wu
Suddenly I’m governing Wu Prefecture
and suddenly chrysanthemums are blooming
as I start to think of my garden back home
happily a group of guests arrives
translated by Red Pine
Visiting the Ferry in the Western Suburbs Again by Wei Ying-wu
Where the river winds I reflect on my travels
a traveler lost in reminiscence again
the moon last night was so lovely
I’ve come back to see it in the waves
birds won’t roost where they feel afraid
or a fragrance spread where it’s cold
when will I hold someone’s hand again
the flowers overhead look like sleet
translated by Red Pine
Leonard Durso 