I didn’t realize the year was so late
or living apart was so lonely
translated by Red Pine
I didn’t realize the year was so late
or living apart was so lonely
translated by Red Pine
The narrow water the green hills and the road lead east
the peaks to the southeast make way for the Great River
leafless trees are indistinct on the far horizon
evening light shimmers and sinks in the flood
how long have I lived in this village on the Yi
the sky clears and a lone goose lands with the North Wind
my dear itinerant colleagues back at Loyang Bridge
my little boat is loose and with it is my heart
translated by Red Pine
In an empty study with nothing to do
you loosened your hair strings and waited for a friend
it wasn’t a night for reading
but for writing poems about the moon
after listening to the bell and sleeping in comfort
we rolled up dew-covered blinds
and sensed another fall was near
while the fading river tried to hold off dawn
translated by Red Pine
A courtyard of bamboo and late-night snow
a lone lantern a book on the table
if I hadn’t encountered the teaching of no effort
how else could I have gained this life of leisure
translated by Red Pine
In the land of Ch’u friends are rare
meeting you here was unexpected
I’ve kept your letters close to my heart
how strange to see white in your hair
our cups overflow with an innkeeper’s wine
our luggage is full of river-travel poems
may we ride forth together again
as we once did on Loyang Bridge
translated by Red Pine
The season seems to be ending early
this morning felt sadder still
the wind stirs a heartbreaking spring
and the pond chills a flowerless night
the longer I look at the wine
the clearer you become
who is that walking along the winding river
looking for my footprints and thinking of me
translated by Red Pine
I reined in my horse below a pine ridge
and hiked to the lookout on top
the trail appeared impassable as I started out
but once I arrived I wished it were longer
from the summit I heard a chorus of winds
in the woods I bathed in a secluded stream
the sound of a bell roused me on the Way
the evening chime cleared the clouds and mist
though my visit was brief
I finally saw what caused my troubles
but when I thought about building a hut
I knew it would have to wait for old age
translated by Red Pine
I climb this tower every day and look out
at the passing years slipping into darkness
right now I’m sick of this post in Huainan
and all the red trees in these autumn hills
translated by Red Pine
With a sigh I left someone dear
and floated off into the mist and fog
with oars bent for Loyang
and Kuangling’s bells and treeline fading
this morning when we said goodbye
we wondered where we would next meet
in a world like a boat on the waves
rising and falling with no shore in sight
translated by Red Pine
I left the Yiching in the woods
now I drift with the gulls by the stream
among the singers of the way of Ch’u
to whom do you most often turn
translated by Red Pine
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.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
Erm, what am I doing with my life?
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World