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Hard Journey
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A Farewell To Secretary Shuyun At The Xietiao Villa In Xuanzhou Read Poem

Since yesterday had to throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.

The autumn wild geese have a long wind for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.

The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the School of Heaven,
And I am a Lesser Xie growing up by your side.

We both are exalted to distant thought,
Aspiring to the sky and the bright moon.

But since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords,
And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishing boat.

A Mountain Revelry Read Poem

To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows,
We drained a hundred jugs of wine.

A splendid night it was .

.

.

.

In the clear moonlight we were loath to go to bed,
But at last drunkenness overtook us;
And we laid ourselves down on the empty mountain,
The earth for pillow, and the great heaven for coverlet.

A Song Of An Autumn Midnight Read Poem

A slip of the moon hangs over the capital;
Ten thousand washing-mallets are pounding;
And the autumn wind is blowing my heart
For ever and ever toward the Jade Pass.

.

.

.

Oh, when will the Tartar troops be conquered,
And my husband come back from the long campaign!

A Song Of Changgan Read Poem

My hair had hardly covered my forehead.

I was picking flowers, paying by my door,
When you, my lover, on a bamboo horse,
Came trotting in circles and throwing green plums.

We lived near together on a lane in Ch'ang-kan,
Both of us young and happy-hearted.

At fourteen I became your wife,
So bashful that I dared not smile,
And I lowered my head toward a dark corner
And would not turn to your thousand calls;
But at fifteen I straightened my brows and laughed,
Learning that no dust could ever seal our love,
That even unto death I would await you by my post
And would never lose heart in the tower of silent watching.

Then when I was sixteen, you left on a long journey
Through the Gorges of Ch'u-t'ang, of rock and whirling water.

And then came the Fifth-month, more than I could bear,
And I tried to hear the monkeys in your lofty far-off sky.

Your footprints by our door, where I had watched you go,
Were hidden, every one of them, under green moss,
Hidden under moss too deep to sweep away.

And the first autumn wind added fallen leaves.

And now, in the Eighth-month, yellowing butterflies
Hover, two by two, in our west-garden grasses
And, because of all this, my heart is breaking
And I fear for my bright cheeks, lest they fade.

Oh, at last, when you return through the three Pa districts,
Send me a message home ahead!
And I will come and meet you and will never mind the distance,
All the way to Chang-feng Sha.

Cf.

Bynner's translation of this poem with Ezra Pound's differently-titled "The River Merchant's Wife: A Letter"--also found at All Poetry.

A Vindication Read Poem

If heaven loved not the wine,
A Wine Star would not be in heaven;
If earth loved not the wine,
The Wine Spring would not be on the earth.

Since heaven and earth love the wine,
Need a tippling mortal be ashamed?

The transparent wine, I hear,
Has the soothing virtue of a sage,
While the turgid is rich, they say,
As the fertile mind of the wise.

Both the sage and the wise were drinkers,
Why seek for peers among gods and goblins?

Three cups open the grand door to bliss;
Take a jugful, the universe is yours.

Such is the rapture of the wine,
That the sober shall never inherit.

About Tu Fu Read Poem

I met Tu Fu on a mountaintop
in August when the sun was hot.

Under the shade of his big straw hat
his face was sad—
in the years since we last parted,
he'd grown wan, exhausted.

Poor old Tu Fu, I thought then,
he must be agonizing over poetry again.

Li Po
tr.

Hamil

Alone and Drinking Under the Moon Read Poem

Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.

Alone Looking at the Mountain Read Poem

All the birds have flown up and gone;
A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.

We never tire of looking at each other -
Only the mountain and I.

Amidst the Flowers a Jug of Wine Read Poem

Amidst the flowers a jug of wine,
I pour alone lacking companionship.

So raising the cup I invite the Moon,
Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us.

Because the Moon does not know how to drink,
My shadow merely follows the movement of my body.

The moon has brought the shadow to keep me company a while,
The practice of mirth should keep pace with spring.

I start a song and the moon begins to reel,
I rise and dance and the shadow moves grotesquely.

While I'm still conscious let's rejoice with one another,
After I'm drunk let each one go his way.

Let us bind ourselves for ever for passionless journeyings.

Let us swear to meet again far in the Milky Way.

Amusing Myself Read Poem

Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk,
Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes.

Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream,
Birds are far off, people too are few.

Ancient Air (39) Read Poem

I climb up high and look on the four seas,
Heaven and earth spreading out so far.

Frost blankets all the stuff of autumn,
The wind blows with the great desert's cold.

The eastward-flowing water is immense,
All the ten thousand things billow.

The white sun's passing brightness fades,
Floating clouds seem to have no end.

Swallows and sparrows nest in the wutong tree,
Yuan and luan birds perch among jujube thorns.

Now it's time to head on back again,
I flick my sword and sing
Taking the Hard Road.

Atop Green Mountains by Li Po Read Poem

Asked why I dwell in these green mountains,
I smile, my heart wordless, give no answer.

A peach blossom swirls faraway downriver;
High above earth, far below heaven, I sit nowhere.

Translated by Stanton Hager 2018

Autumn Air Read Poem

The autumn air is clear,
The autumn moon is bright.

Fallen leaves gather and scatter,
The jackdaw perches and starts anew.

We think of each other- when will we meet?

This hour, this night, my feelings are hard.

Autumn Air by Li Po Read Poem

In brisk autumn air,
the moon glows orange bright.

Falling leaves swirl and tangle,
blown by gusts pursuing gusts.

Over and over, a roosting
jackdaw flutters up in alarm.

Separated, each of us broods how
Long till eyes set eyes on the other.

Till then, every day embitters,
and every night starts tears.

Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)

Autumn River Song Read Poem

The moon shimmers in green water.

White herons fly through the moonlight.

The young man hears a girl gathering water-chestnuts:
into the night, singing, they paddle home together.

Li T'ai-po
tr.

Hamil

Ballads Of Four Seasons: Spring Read Poem

The lovely Lo Fo of the western land
Plucks mulberry leaves by the waterside.

Across the green boughs stretches out her white hand;
In golden sunshine her rosy robe is dyed.

"my silkworms are hungry, I cannot stay.

Tarry not with your five-horse cab, I pray.

"

Ballads Of Four Seasons: Summer Read Poem

On Mirror Lake outspread for miles and miles,
The lotus lilies in full blossom teem.

In fifth moon Xi Shi gathers them with smiles,
Watchers o'erwhelm the bank of Yuoye Stream.

Her boat turns back without waiting moonrise
To yoyal house amid amorous sighs.

Ballads Of Four Seasons: Winter Read Poem

The courier will depart next day, she's told.

She sews a warrior's gown all night.

Her fingers feel the needle cold.

How can she hold the scissors tight?

The work is done, she sends it far away.

When will it reach the town where warriors stay?

Bathed and Washed Read Poem

Bathed in fragrance,
do not brush your hat;
Washed in perfume,
do not shake your coat:
"Knowing the world
fears what is too pure,
The wisest man
prizes and stores light!"
By Bluewater
an old angler sat:
You and I together,
Let us go home.

Before The Cask of Wine Read Poem

The spring wind comes from the east and quickly passes,
Leaving faint ripples in the wine of the golden bowl.

The flowers fall, flake after flake, myriads together.

You, pretty girl, wine-flushed,
Your rosy face is rosier still.

How long may the peach and plum trees flower
By the green-painted house?

The fleeting light deceives man,
Brings soon the stumbling age.

Rise and dance
In the westering sun
While the urge of youthful years is yet unsubdued!
What avails to lament after one's hair has turned white
like silken threads?

Bitter Love by Li Po Read Poem

How beautiful she looks, opening the pearly casement,
And how quiet she leans, and how troubled her brow is!
You may see the tears now, bright on her cheek,
But not the man she so bitterly loves.

Bringing in the Wine Read Poem

See how the Yellow River's water move out of heaven.

Entering the ocean,never to return.

See how lovely locks in bright mirrors in high chambers,
Though silken-black at morning, have changed by night to snow.

… Oh, let a man of spirit venture where he pleases
And never tip his golden cup empty toward the moon!
Since heaven gave the talent, let it be employed!
Spin a thousand of pieces of silver, all of them come back!
Cook a sheep, kill a cow, whet the appetite,
And make me, of three hundred bowls, one long drink!
… To the old master, Tsen,
And the young scholar, Tan-chiu,
Bring in the wine!
Let your cups never rest!
Let me sing you a song!
Let your ears attend!
What are bell and drum, rare dishes and treasure?

Let me br forever drunk and never come to reason!
Sober men of olden days and sages are forgotten,
And only the great drinkers are famous for all time.

… Prince Chen paid at a banquet in the Palace of Perfection
Ten thousand coins for a cask of wine, with many a laugh and quip.

Why say, my host, that your money is gone?

Go and buy wine and we'll drink it together!
My flower-dappled horse,
My furs worth a thousand,
Hand them to the boy to exchange for good wine,
And we'll drown away the woes of ten thousand generation!

Ch'ing P'ing Tiao Read Poem

Clouds bring back to mind her dress, the flowers her face.

Winds of spring caress the rail where sparkling dew-drops cluster.

If you cannot see her by the jewelled mountain top,
Maybe on the moonlit Jasper Terrace you will meet her.

Changgan Memories Read Poem

When first my hair began to cover my forehead,
I picked and played with flowers before the gate.

You came riding on a bamboo horse,
And circled the walkway, playing with green plums.

We lived together, here in Changgan county,
Two children, without the least suspicion.

When I was fourteen, I became your wife,
So shy that still my face remained unopened.

I bowed my head towards the shadowed wall,
And called one thousand times, I turned not once.

At 15 I began to lift my brows,
And wished to be with you as dust with ashes.

You always kept your massive pillar faith,
I had no need to climb the lookout hill.

When I was sixteen, you went far away,
To Yanyudui, within the Qutang gorge.

You should not risk the dangerous floods of May,
Now from the sky, the monkeys cry in mourning.

Before the gate, my pacing's left a mark,
Little by little, the green moss has grown.

The moss is now too deep to sweep away,
And leaves fall in the autumn's early winds.

This August, all the butterflies are yellow,
A pair fly over the western garden's grass.

I feel that they are damaging my heart,
Through worrying, my rosy face grows old.

When you come down the river from Sanba,
Beforehand, send a letter to your home.

We'll go to meet each other, however far,
I'll come up to Changfengsha.

Chiang Chin Chiu Read Poem

See the waters of the Yellow River leap down from Heaven, Roll away to the deep sea and never turn again! See at the mirror
in the High Hall Aged men bewailing white locks - In the morning, threads of silk, In the evening flakes of snow.

Snatch the joys
of life as they come and use them to the full; Do not leave the silver cup idly glinting at the moon.

The things that Heaven made
Man was meant to use; A thousand guilders scattered to the wind may come back again.

Roast mutton and sliced beef will only
taste well If you drink with them at one sitting three hundred cups.

Great Master Ts'êen, Doctor Tan-ch'iu, Here is wine, do not
stop drinking But listen, please, and I will sing you a song.

Bells and drums and fine food, what are they to me Who only want
to get drunk and never again be sober?

The Saints and Sages of old times are all stock and still, Only the might drinkers of wine
have left a name behind.

When the prince of Ch'êen gave a feast in the Palace of P'ing-lo With twenty thousand gallons of wine
he loosed mirth and play.

The master of the feast must not cry that his money is all spent; Let him send to the tavern and fetch
wine to keep our tankards filled.

His five-flower horse and thousand-guilder coat - Let him call the boy to take them along and
pawn them for good wine, That drinking together we may drive away the sorrows of a thousand years.

Chuang Tzu And The Butterfly Read Poem

Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly,
And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking.

Which was the real—the butterfly or the man ?

Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things?

The water that flows into the depth of the distant sea
Returns anon to the shallows of a transparent stream.

The man, raising melons outside the green gate of the city,
Was once the Prince of the East Hill.

So must rank and riches vanish.

You know it, still you toil and toil,—what for?

Clearing at Dawn Read Poem

The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;
The colours of Spring teem on every side.

With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.

The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;
The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.

By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud
Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.

Climbing West Of Lotus Flower Peak Read Poem

Amongst the grandeur of Hua Shan
I climb to the Flower Peak,
and fancy I see fairies and immortals
carrying lotus in their
sacred white hands, robes flowing
they fly filling the sky with colour
as they rise to the palace of heaven,
inviting me to go to the cloud stage
and see Wei Shu-ching, guardian angel
of Hua Shan; so dreamily I go with them
riding to the sky on the back
of wild geese which call as they fly,
but when we look below at Loyang,
not so clear because of the mist,
everywhere could be seen looting
armies, which took Loyang, creating
chaos and madness with blood
flowing everywhere; like animals of prey
rebel army men made into officials
with caps and robes to match.

Confessional Read Poem

There was wine in a cup of gold
and a girl of fifteen from Wu,
her eyebrows painted dark
and with slippers of red brocade.

If her conversation was poor,
how beautifully she could sing!
Together we dined and drank
until she settled in my arms.

Behind her curtains
embroidered with lotuses,
how could I refuse
the temptation of her advances?

Crows Calling At Night Read Poem

Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows near the tower.

Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs.

In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl.

Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words.

She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man.

She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.

Down from the Mountain Read Poem

As down Mount Emerald at eve I came,
The mountain moon went all the way with me.

Backward I looked, to see the heights aflame
With a pale light that glimmered eerily.

A little lad undid the rustic latch
As hand in hand your cottage we did gain,
Where green limp tendrils at our cloaks did catch,
And dim bamboos o'erhung a shadowy lane.

Gaily I cried, "Here may we rest our fill!"
Then choicest wines we quaffed; and cheerily
"The Wind among the Pines" we sang, until
A few faint stars hung in the Galaxy.

Merry were you, my friend: and drunk was I,
Blissfully letting all the world go by.

Down Zhongnan Mountain Read Poem

Down the blue mountain in the evening,
Moonlight was my homeward escort.

Looking back, I saw my path
Lie in levels of deep shadow.

.

.

.

I was passing the farm-house of a friend,
When his children called from a gate of thorn
And led me twining through jade bamboos
Where green vines caught and held my clothes.

And I was glad of a chance to rest
And glad of a chance to drink with my friend.

.

.

.

We sang to the tune of the wind in the pines;
And we finished our songs as the stars went down,
When, I being drunk and my friend more than happy,
Between us we forgot the world.

Drinking Alone Read Poem

I take my wine jug out among the flowers
to drink alone, without friends.

I raise my cup to entice the moon.

That, and my shadow, makes us three.

But the moon doesn't drink,
and my shadow silently follows.

I will travel with moon and shadow,
happy to the end of spring.

When I sing, the moon dances.

When I dance, my shadow dances, too.

We share life's joys when sober.

Drunk, each goes a separate way.

Constant friends, although we wander,
we'll meet again in the Milky Way.

Li T'ai-po
tr.

Hamil

Drinking Alone in the Moonlight Read Poem

Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.

Version 2
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,
No friends at hand, so I poured alone;
I raised my cup to invite the moon,
Turned to my shadow, and we became three.

Now the moon had never learned about drinking,
And my shadow had merely followed my form,
But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.

Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.

Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.

But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.

Li Po was famous for his romantic poems of escape from reality through either his imagination or drinking wine.

Drinking in the Mountains Read Poem

Mountain flowers open in our faces.

You and I are triply lost in wine.

I’m drunk, my friend, sleepy.

Rise and go.

With your dawn lute, return, if you wish, and stay.

Drinking With Someone In The Mountains Read Poem

As the two of us drink
together, while mountain
flowers blossom beside, we
down one cup after the other
until I am drunk and sleepy
so that you better go!
Tomorrow if you feel like it
do come and bring your lute
along with you!

Endless Yearning by Li Po Read Poem

Endless my yearning
To be with you in Ch’ang-an.

Faraway, where chirring crickets
thread autumn songs
around the well’s gold rail,
coldly I sit, cramped
on a bamboo mat
crusted with blue frost.

Dim is the light from my only lamp,
darkly ablaze my longing for you.

Lifting the curtain, I stare
hard at the moon.

Helplessly, I sigh and sigh, longing
to smell the flower-scent of a woman
who dwells far from me
as the remotest cloud at sky's end.

Above, the night climbs
into boundless black.

Below, the river tosses up
billows of darkest green.

Must heaven be so high?

Earth so vast?

Between them, my unfed soul
flies over a road that even in my dreams
is blocked at every mountain pass.

This endless yearning
Breaks my heart!
Translated 2018 by Stanton Hager

Exile's Letter Read Poem

To So-Kin of Rakuyo, ancient friend, Chancellor of
Gen.

Now I remember that you built me a special tavern
By the south side of the bridge at Ten-Shin.

With yellow gold and white jewels, we paid for songs
and laughter
And we were drunk for month on month, forget-
ting the kings and princes.

Intelligent men came drifting in from the sea and
from the west border,
And with them, and with you especially
There was nothing at cross purpose,
And they made nothing of sea-crossing or of
mountain-crossing,
If only they could be of that fellowship,
And we all spoke out our hearts and minds, and
without regret.

And then I was sent off to South Wei,
smothered in laurel groves,
And you to the north of Raku-hoku,
Till we had nothing but thoughts and memories in
common.

And then, when separation had come to its worst,
We met, and travelled into Sen-Go,
Through all the thirty-six folds of the turning and
twisting waters,
Into a valley of the thousand bright flowers,
That was the first valley;
And into ten thousand valleys full of voices and
pine-winds.

And with silver harness and reins of gold,
Out come the East of Kan foreman and his
company.

And there came also the ‘True man’ of Shi-yo to
meet me,
Playing on a jewelled mouth-organ.

In the storied houses of San-Ko they gave us more
Sennin music,
Many instruments, like the sound of young phoenix
broods.

The foreman of Kan Chu, drunk, danced
because his long sleeves wouldn't keep still
With that music playing,
And I, wrapped in brocade, went to sleep with my
head on his lap,
And my spirit so high it was all over the heavens,
And before the end of the day we were scattered
like stars, or rain.

I had to be off to So, far away over the waters,
You back to your river-bridge.

And your father, who was brave as a leopard,
Was governor in Hei Shu, and put down the bar-
barian rabble.

And one May he had you send for me,
despite the long distance.

And what with broken wheels and so on, I won't
say it wasn't hard going,
Over roads twisted like sheep's guts.

And I was still going, late in the year,
in the cutting wind from the North,
And thinking how little you cared for the cost,
and you caring enough to pay it.

And what a reception:
Red jade cups, food well set on a blue jewelled table,
And I was drunk, and had no thought of returning.

And you would walk out with me to the western
corner of the castle,
To the dynastic temple, with water about it clear
as blue jade,
With boats floating, and the sound of mouth-
organs and drums,
With ripples like dragon-scales, going grass green
on the water,
Pleasure lasting, with courtezans, going and coming
without hindrance,
With the willow-flakes falling like snow,
And the vermilioned girls getting drunk
about sunset,
And the water, a hundred feet deep, reflecting green
eyebrows
--Eyebrows painted green are a fine sight in young
moonlight,
Gracefully painted--
And the girls singing back at each other,
Dancing in transparent brocade,
And the wind lifting the song, and interrupting it,
Tossing it up under the clouds.

And all this comes to an end.

And is not again to be met with.

I went up to the court for examination,
Tried Layu's luck, offered the Choyo song,
And got no promotion,
and went back to the East Mountains
white-headed.

And once again, later, we met at the South bridge-
head.

And then the crowd broke up, you went north to
San palace,
And if you ask how I regret that parting:
It is like the flowers falling at Spring's end
Confused, whirled in a tangle.

What is the use of talking, and there is no end of
talking,
There is no end of things in the heart.

I call in the boy,
Have him sit on his knees here
To seal this,
And send it a thousand miles, thinking.

This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems translated by Ezra Pound from the manuscripts of Ernest Fenollosa.

The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.

S.

Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time.

"
CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.

CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.

Facing Wine Read Poem

Stared into my wine cup
unaware of the growing dark
until falling blossoms
filled the folds of my robe.

Drunk, I stumbled to the moon
floating in the stream
where the birds had long flown away
and a few men loitered.

Another Version
(Please let me know which you prefer):
Stared into my
wine cup
oblivious
to the growing dark
until falling
blossoms
filled the folds
of my robe.

Drunk
I stumbled
to the moon floating
in the stream
where the birds
had long flown away
and a few men
loitered.

--Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan: Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)
Li Po (AD 701-762) is famous for his poems that unabashedly celebrate drunkenness: an induced state of heightened feelings which he believed inspired his poetry.

Yet, in this self-reprimanding poem he reveals the shadow side of drunkenness: the oblivious lost long hours spent hunched over wine, unaware of everything but the cup of wine in front of him.

The poet doesn't notice the sunset: doesn't notice the dark till blossoms falling from an overhead tree have filled the folds of his robe.

Too, he is oblivious to the chirping and flying about of birds.

And, though he is a sociable, conversational man, he talks to no one.

Farewell to Meng Hao-jan Read Poem

I took leave of you, old friend, at the
Yellow Crane Pavilion;
In the mist and bloom of March, you went
down to Yang-chou:
A lonely sail, distant shades, extinguished by blue—
There, at the horizon, where river meets sky.

Farewell to Meng Hao-jan at Yellow Crane Tower by Li Po Read Poem

In April
the air thick
with the smoky fragrance
of wet blossoms
my friend and I exchange goodbyes
at Yellow Crane Tower
as he departs
downriver
east to Yang-chou.

His lone sail
fades from sight
until a shadowy flicker
it sinks into the sky's
limitless blue.

Then I see only
the great Yangtze
pouring
through Heaven's gates.

--Translated by Stanton Hager,
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2009)
This is one of several great Li Po poems on the T'ang subject of parting friends, whose vivid imagery and grand scale of space (resembling Chinese landscape painting) and whose depth of feeling have made it among the most famous and popular of T'ang Dynasty poems.

Meng Hao-jan was the elder poet of the two men, the first great master of T'ang poetry.

The poem recounts one leg in a long journey by Hao-jan for which Li Po traveled over a hundred miles to reach Yellow Crane Tower so that he could bid his friend farewell.

Such were the bonds of friendship in Medieval China.

Farewell to Secretary Shu-yun at the Hsieh Tiao Villa in Hsuan-Chou Read Poem

Since yesterday had throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.

The autumn wildgeese have a long wing for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.

The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the school of heaven,
And I am Lesser Hsieh growing up by your side.

We both are exalted to distant thought,
Aspiring to the sky and the bright moon.

But since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords,
And sorrow return,though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishing-boat.

For Meng Hao-Jan Read Poem

I love Master Meng.

Free as a flowing breeze,
He is famous
Throughout the world.

In rosy youth, he cast away
Official cap and carriage.

Now, a white-haired elder, he reclines
Amid pines and cloud.

Drunk beneath the moon,
He often attains sagehood.

Lost among the flowers,
He serves no lord.

How can I aspire
to such a high mountain?

Here below, to his clear fragrance,
I bow.

Translated by Greg Whincup

For Wang Lun Read Poem

Li Bai is already on the boat, preparing to depart,
I suddenly hear the sound of stamping and singing on the shore.

The water of Taohua pond reaches a thousand feet in depth,
But still it's not as deep as Wang Lun's feelings seeing me off.

For Wang Lun by Li Po Read Poem

Aboard his boat about to set sail
Li Po is startled to hear from shore
an uproar of stomping and singing!
Not even Peach Blossom Pool famed
for its thousand fathoms is as deep
as Wang Lun's heart bidding me goodbye.

--Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)

Gazing At The Cascade On Lu Mountain Read Poem

Where crowns a purple haze
Ashimmer in sunlight rays
The hill called Incense-Burner Peak, from far
To see, hung o'er the torrent's wall,
That waterfall
Vault sheer three thousand feet, you'd say
The Milky Way
Was tumbling from the high heavens, star on star

Going Up Yoyang Tower Read Poem

We climbed Yoyang Tower with
all the scene around coming
into vision; looking up the
Great River seeing boats turn
and enter the Tungting Lake; geese
crying farewell to the river
as they flew south; evening falling
as if mountain tops upt up the moon
with their lips; and we in the Yoyang
Tower as if with heads amongst
the cloud, drinking wine as if the cups
came from heaven itself; then
having drunk our fill there blew
a cold wind filling out our
sleeves, it seeming as though
we were dancing in time with it.

Gold painted jars - wines worth a thousand Read Poem

Jade carved dishes - food costing more.

I throw the chopsticks down,
Food and wine are tasteless.

Draw my magic sword,
Mind confused stare round me.

See the ice floes block the Yellow River.

Feel the snowfall shroud the T’ai-hang Mountains.

Quiet again I cast in dark waters,
Find the fragile boat that might drift sunwards.

Hard Journey.

So many side-tracks.

Turn after turn, and where am I?

New breezes flatten down the waves ahead.

I’ll set cloud sails, cross the Blue Horizon.

Good Old Moon Read Poem

When I was a boy I called the moon a
white plate of jade, sometimes it looked
like a great mirror hanging in the sky,
first came the two legs of the fairy
and the cassia tree, but for whom the rabbit
kept on pounding medical herbs, I
just could not guess.

Now the moon is being
swallowed by the toad and the light
flickers out leaving darkness all around;
I hear that when nine of the burning suns out
of the ten were ordered to be shot down by
the Emperor Yao, all has since been quiet
and peaceful both for heaven and man,
but this eating up of the moon is for me
a truly ugly scene filling me with forebodings
wondering what will come out of it.

Green Mountain Read Poem

You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain;
I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care.

As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown,
I have a world apart that is not among men.

Hard Is The Journey Read Poem

Gold vessels of fine wines,
thousands a gallon,
Jade dishes of rare meats,
costing more thousands,
I lay my chopsticks down,
no more can banquet,
I draw my sword and stare
wildly about me:
Ice bars my way to cross
the Yellow River,
Snows from dark skies to climb
the T'ai-hang mountains!
At peace I drop a hook
into a brooklet,
At once I'm in a boat
but sailing sunward…
(Hard is the journey,
Hard is the journey,
So many turnings,
And now where am I?

)
So when a breeze breaks waves,
bringing fair weather,
I set a cloud for sails,
cross the blue oceans!

Hearing a Flute in Lo-yang City On a Spring Night by Li Po Read Poem

From which window does a jade flute weave
Such sad music into the spring winds that swell Lo-yang?

Should it play the willow-breaking song tonight,
I would find it even harder to bear my longing for home.

--Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)
Note: Lines 3-4 allude to a Chinese song that was commonly sung at parting, when a willow sprig was snapped from a branch and presented as a memento to the departing one.

Hearing A Flute On A Spring Night In Luoyang Read Poem

From whose home secretly flies the sound of a jade flute?

It's lost amid the spring wind which fills Luoyang city.

In the middle of this nocturne I remember the snapped willow,
What person would not start to think of home!

Ho Chih-chang Read Poem

When we met the first time at Ch’ang-an
He called me the ‘Lost Immortal’.

Then he loved the Way of Forgetting.

Now under the pine-trees he is dust.

His golden keepsake bought us wine.

Remembering, the tears run down my cheeks.

In Spring Read Poem

Your grasses up north are as blue as jade,
Our mulberries here curve green-threaded branches;
And at last you think of returning home,
Now when my heart is almost broken.

.

.

.

O breeze of the spring, since I dare not know you,
Why part the silk curtains by my bed?

Jade Stairs Grievance Read Poem

On jade stairs she waits.

Nightlong she waits.

Dew icing to frost
Soaks her silk stockings.

Inside, she lets fall
Crystal-jeweled blinds,
And stares out
At the white autumn moon.

--Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)

Lament for Mr Tai Read Poem

Wine-maker there by Yellow Fountains,
‘Eternal Spring’  that’s still your vintage.

Without Li Po on Night’s Terrace
Who can there be to bring you custom?

Lament of the Frontier Guard Read Poem

By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand,
Lonely from the beginning of time until now!
Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn.

I climb the towers and towers
to watch out the barbarous land:
Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert.

There is no wall left to this village.

Bones white with a thousand frosts,
High heaps, covered with trees and grass;
Who brought this to pass?

Who has brought the flaming imperial anger?

Who has brought the army with drums and with
kettle-drums?

Barbarous kings.

A gracious spring, turned to blood-ravenous autumn,
A turmoil of wars-men, spread over the middle
kingdom,
Three hundred and sixty thousand,
And sorrow, sorrow like rain.

Sorrow to go, and sorrow, sorrow returning.

Desolate, desolate fields,
And no children of warfare upon them,
No longer the men for offence and defence.

Ah, how shall you know the dreary sorrow at the
North Gate,
With Riboku's name forgotten,
And we guardsmen fed to the tigers.

--Written by Li Po, translated into English by Ezra Pound
This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems translated by Ezra Pound from the manuscripts of Ernest Fenollosa.

The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.

Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time.

"
CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.

CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.

Lament On an Autumn Night Read Poem

Over Ch’ang-an hangs a slash of moon; by its faint light,
women are pounding ten thousand washing mallets
While ceaselessly autumn winds hurl
my sodden heart to Jade Mountain Pass.

Oh, when will the bearded barbarians be beaten back
And our husbands returned home to us from far-off battles?

--Translated by Stanton Hager 2018
Line 2 Note
by Frank Watson: In ancient China, “usually women wash the clothes by pounding them with mallets.

They were washing the clothes for their husbands, who were gone at the battle fields.

Usually, women pound clothes in the daytime so they can see better.

During war time, when the males were all gone, women had more farm work to do in the daytime.

So they could only wash clothes under the moon.

This scene portrays housewives also had a tough time during the wars.

"
Line 4 Note
: Jade Mountain Pass, where the fighting was taking place.

Laolao Ting Pavilion Read Poem

What place under heaven most hurts the heart?

Laolao Ting, for seeing visitors off.

The spring wind knows how bitter it is to part,
The willow twig will never again be green.

Leave-Taking Near Shoku Read Poem

They say the roads of Sanso are steep,
Sheer as the mountains.

The walls rise in a man's face,
Clouds grow out of the hill
at his horse's bridle.

Sweet trees are on the paved way of the Shin,
Their trunks burst through the paving,
And freshets are bursting their ice
in the midst of Shoku, a proud city.

Men's fates are already set,
There is no need of asking diviners.

--Translated by Ezra Pound in CATHAY 1915
This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems translated by Ezra Pound from the manuscripts of Ernest Fenollosa.

The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.

S.

Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time.

"
CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.

CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.

Leaving White King City Read Poem

White King City I left at dawn
in the morning-glow of the clouds;
The thousand miles to Chiang-ling
we sailed in a single day.

On either shore the gibbons' chatter
sounded without pause
While my light boat skimmed past
ten thousand sombre crags.

Lines For A Taoist Adept Read Poem

My friend lives high on East Mountain.

His nature is to love the hills and gorges.

In green spring he sleeps in empty woodland,
Still there when the noon sun brightens.

Pine-tree winds to dust his hair.

Rock-filled streams to cleanse his senses.

Free of all sound and stress,
Resting on a wedge of cloud and mist.

Listening to a Flute in Yellow Crane Pavillion Read Poem

I came here a wanderer
thinking of home,
remembering my far away Ch'ang-an.

And then, from deep in Yellow Crane Pavillion,
I heard a beautiful bamboo flute
play "Falling Plum Blossoms.

"
It was late spring in a city by the river.

Li T'ai-po
tr.

Hamill

Long Yearning Read Poem

Long yearning,
To be in Chang'an.

The grasshoppers weave their autumn song by the golden railing of the well;
Frost coalesces on my bamboo mat, changing its colour with cold.

My lonely lamp is not bright, I’d like to end these thoughts;
I roll back the hanging, gaze at the moon, and long sigh in vain.

The beautiful person's like a flower beyond the edge of the clouds.

Above is the black night of heaven's height;
Below is the green water billowing on.

The sky is long, the road is far, bitter flies my spirit;
The spirit I dream can't get through, the mountain pass is hard.

Long yearning,
Breaks my heart.

Long Yearning (Sent Far) Read Poem

When the beautiful woman was here, the hall was filled with flowers,
Now the beautiful woman's gone, the bed is lying empty.

On the bed, the embroidered quilt is rolled up: no-one sleeps,
Though three years have now gone by, I think I smell that scent.

The scent is finished but not destroyed,
The woman's gone and does not come.

Yearning yellows the falling leaf,
White dew beads the green moss.

Looking For A Monk And Not Finding Him Read Poem

I took a small path leading
up a hill valley, finding there
a temple, its gate covered
with moss, and in front of
the door but tracks of birds;
in the room of the old monk
no one was living, and I
staring through the window
saw but a hair duster hanging
on the wall, itself covered
with dust; emptily I sighed
thinking to go, but then
turning back several times,
seeing how the mist on
the hills was flying, and then
a light rain fell as if it
were flowers falling from
the sky, making a music of
its own; away in the distance
came the cry of a monkey, and
for me the cares of the world
slipped away, and I was filled
with the beauty around me.

Lu Mountain, Kiangsi Read Poem

I climbed west on Incense Cloud Peak.

South I saw the spray-filled falls
Dropping for ten thousand feet
Sounding in a hundred gorges,
Suddenly as if lightning shone,
Strange as if light-wet rainbows lifted.

I thought the Milky Way had shattered,
Scattering stars through the clouds, downwards.

Looking up an even greater force.

Nature’s powers are so intense.

The Cosmic Wind blows there without stop.

The river’s moon echoes back the light
Into vortices where waters rush.

On both sides the clear walls were washed,
By streams of pearl broken into mist,
By clouds of foam whitening over rock.

Let me reach those Sublime Hills
Where peace comes to the quiet heart.

No more need to find the magic cup.

I’ll wash the dust, there, from my face,
And live in those regions that I love,
Separated from the Human World.

Marble Stairs Grievance Read Poem

On Marble Stairs
still grows the white dew
That has all night
soaked her silk slippers,
But she lets down
her crystal blind now
And sees through glaze
the moon of autumn.

Mêng Hao-jan Read Poem

True-Taoist, good friend Mêng,
Your madness known to one and all,
Young you laughed at rank and power.

Now you sleep in pine-tree clouds.

On moonlit nights floored by the Dragon.

In magic blossom deaf to the World.

You rise above - a hill so high.

I drink the fragrance from afar.

Midnight Song of Wu Read Poem

In Chang'an city is the disk of the moon,
The sound of pounding clothes in ten thousand households.

The autumn wind is blowing without cease,
All the time I think of Yuguan pass.

When will we pacify the pillaging Hu,
So my husband can end his long journey?

Moon at the Fortified Pass by Li Po Read Poem

The bright moon lifts from the Mountain of Heaven
In an infinite haze of cloud and sea,
And the wind that has come a thousand miles
Beats at the Jade Pass battlements.

China marches its men down Baideng Road
While Tartar troops peer across blue waters of the bay.

And since not one battle famous in history
Sent all its fighters back again,
The soldiers turn round, looking toward the border,
And think of home, with wistful eyes,
And of those tonight in the upper chambers
Who toss and sigh and cannot rest.

Moon Over Mountain Pass Read Poem

A bright moon rising above Tian Shan Mountain,
Lost in a vast ocean of clouds.

The long wind, across thousands upon thousands of miles,
Blows past the Jade-gate Pass.

The army of Han has gone down the Baiteng Road,
As the barbarian hordes probe at Qinghai Bay.

It is known that from the battlefield
Few ever live to return.

Men at Garrison look on the border scene,
Home thoughts deepen sorrow on their faces.

In the towered chambers tonight,
Ceaseless are the women's sighs.

Mountain Drinking Song Read Poem

To drown the ancient sorrows,
we drank a hundred jugs of wine
there in the beautiful night.

We couldn't go to bed with the moon so bright.

The finally the wine overcame us
and we lay down on the empty mountain—
the earth for a pillow,
and a blanket made of heaven.

Li T'ai-po
tr.

Hamill

Nefarious War Read Poem

Last year we fought by the head-stream of the So-Kan,
This year we are fighting on the Tsung-ho road.

We have washed our armor in the waves of the Chiao-chi lake,
We have pastured our horses on Tien-shan's snowy slopes.

The long, long war goes on ten thousand miles from home.

Our three armies are worn and grown old.

The barbarian does man-slaughter for plowing;
On his yellow sand-plains nothing has been seen but blanched skulls and bones.

Where the Chin emperor built the walls against the Tartars,
There the defenders of Han are burning beacon fires.

The beacon fires burn and never go out.

There is no end to war!--
In the battlefield men grapple each other and die;
The horses of the vanquished utter lamentable cries to heaven,
While ravens and kites peck at human entrails,
Carry them up in their flight, and hang them on the branches of dead trees.

So, men are scattered and smeared over the desert grass,
And the generals have accomplished nothing.

Oh, nefarious war! I see why arms
Were so seldom used by the benign sovereigns

Old Poem Read Poem

Did Chuang Chou dream he was the butterfly?

Or the butterfly dream he was Chuang Chou?

In the single body’s transformations
See the vortex of the Myriad Creatures.

No mystery then that the Magic Seas
Shrank again to crystal streams,
Or down by Ch’ang-an’s Green Gate
The gardener was Marquis of Tung-Ling.

If this is the fate of fame and power,
What is it for-  this endless striving?

On A Picture Screen Read Poem

Whence these twelve peaks of Wu-shan!
Have they flown into the gorgeous screen
From heaven's one corner?

Ah, those lonely pines murmuring in the wind!
Those palaces of Yang-tai, hovering yonder—
Oh, the melancholy of it!—
Where the jeweled couch of the king
With brocade covers is desolate,—
His elfin maid voluptuously fair
Still haunting them in vain!
Here a few feet
Seem a thousand miles.

The craggy walls glisten blue and red,
A piece of dazzling embroidery.

How green those distant trees are
Round the river strait of Ching-men!
And those ships——they go on,
Floating on the waters of Pa.

The water sings over the rocks
Between countless hills
Of shining mist and lustrous grass.

How many years since these valley flowers bloomed
To smile in the sun ?

And that man traveling on the river,
Hears he not for ages the monkeys screaming?

Whoever looks on this,
Loses himself in eternity;
And entering the sacred mountains of Sung,
He will dream among the resplendent clouds.

On Climbing In Nan-King To The Terrace Of Phoenixes Read Poem

Phoenixes that play here once, so that the place was named for them,
Have abandoned it now to this desolated river;
The paths of Wu Palace are crooked with weeds;
The garments of Chin are ancient dust.

.

.

.

Like this green horizon halving the Three Peaks,
Like this Island of White Egrets dividing the river,
A cloud has risen between the Light of Heaven and me,
To hide his city from my melancholy heart.

On Dragon Hill Read Poem

Drunk on Dragon Hill tonight,
the banished immortal, Great White,
turns among yellow flowers,
his smile wide,
as his hat sails away on the wind
and he dances away in the moonlight.

On Gazing Into A Mirror Read Poem

Follow Tao, and nothing is old or new.

Lose it, and the ruins of age return.

Someone smiling back in the mirror,
hair white as the frost-stained glass,
you admit lament is empty, ask how
reflections get so worn and withered.

How speak of peach and plum: timeless
South Mountain blazes in the end?

On Kusu Terrace Read Poem

The old gardens of Kusu Terrace
are a wilderness, yet the willows
that remain still put out new branches;
lasses gathering water chestnuts
sing so loudly and with such
clarity, that the feeling of spring
returns to us; but where once stood
the palace of the King of Wu, now
only the moon over the
west river once shone on
the lovely ladies there.

Parting At A Wine-Shop In Nan-King Read Poem

A wind, bringing willow-cotton, sweetens the shop,
And a girl from Wu, pouring wine, urges me to share it.

With my comrades of the city who are here to see me off;
And as each of them drains his cup, I say to him in parting,
Oh, go and ask this river running to the east
If it can travel farther than a friend's love!

Poem by The Bridge at Ten-Shin Read Poem

March has come to the bridge head,
Peach boughs and apricot boughs hang over a
thousand gates,
At morning there are flowers to cut the heart,
And evening drives them on the eastward-flowing
waters.

Petals are on the gone waters and on the going,
And on the back-swirling eddies,
But to-day's men are not the men of the old days,
Though they hang in the same way over the bridge-
rail.

The sea's colour moves at the dawn
And the princes still stand in rows, about the throne,
And the moon falls over the portals of Sei-go-yo,
And clings to the walls and the gate-top.

With head gear glittering against the cloud and
sun,
The lords go forth from the court, and into far
borders.

They ride upon dragon-like horses,
Upon horses with head-trappings of yellow metal,
And the streets make way for their passage.

Haughty their passing,
Haughty their steps as they go in to great banquets,
To high halls and curious food,
To the perfumed air and girls dancing,
To clear flutes and clear singing;
To the dance of the seventy couples;
To the mad chase through the gardens.

Night and day are given over to pleasure
And they think it will last a thousand autumns,
Unwearying autumns.

For them the yellow dogs howl portents in vain,
And what are they compared to the Lady Riokushu,
That was cause of hate!
Who among them is a man like Han-rei
Who departed alone with his mistress,
With her hair unbound, and he his own skiffsman!
This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems translated by Ezra Pound from the manuscripts of Ernest Fenollosa.

The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.

Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time.

CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.

Question And Answer On The Mountain Read Poem

You ask for what reason I stay on the green mountain,
I smile, but do not answer, my heart is at leisure.

Peach blossom is carried far off by flowing water,
Apart, I have heaven and earth in the human world.

Quiet Night Thoughts Read Poem

Before my bed
there is bright moonlight
So that it seems
Like frost on the ground:
Lifting my head
I watch the bright moon,
Lowering my head
I dream that I'm home.

Reaching the Hermitage Read Poem

At evening I make it down the mountain.

Keeping company with the moon.

Looking back I see the paths I’ve taken
Blue now, blue beneath the skyline.

You greet me, show the hidden track,
Where children pull back hawthorn curtains,
Reveal green bamboo, the secret path,
Vines that touch the traveller’s clothes.

I love finding space to rest,
Clear wine to enjoy with you.

Wind in the pines till voices stop,
Songs till the Ocean of Heaven pales.

I get drunk and you are happy,
Both of us pleased to forget the world.

Remembering the Springs at Ch’ih-chou Read Poem

Peach-tree flowers over rising waters.

White drowned stones, then free again.

Wistaria-blossom on quivering branches.

Clear blue sky.

The waxing moon.

How many tight-coiled scrolls of bracken,
On green tracks where I once walked?

When I’m back from exile in Yeh-lang,
There I’ll transmute my bones to gold.

Resentment Near the Jade Stairs Read Poem

Dew whitens the jade stairs.

This late, it soaks her gauze stockings.

She lowers her crystal blind to watch
the breaking, glass-clear moon of autumn.

Seeing Off A Friend Read Poem

Green hills above the northern wall,
White water winding east of the city.

On this spot our single act of parting,
The lonely tumbleweed journeys ten thousand li.

Drifting clouds echo the traveller's thoughts,
The setting sun reflects my old friend's feelings.

You wave your hand and set off from this place,
Your horse whinnies as it leaves.

Seeing Off Meng Haoran For Guangling At Yellow Crane Tower Read Poem

My old friend's said goodbye to the west, here at Yellow Crane Tower,
In the third month's cloud of willow blossoms, he's going down to Yangzhou.

The lonely sail is a distant shadow, on the edge of a blue emptiness,
All I see is the Yangtze River flow to the far horizon.

Self-Abandonment Read Poem

I sat drinking and did not notice the dusk,
Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress.

Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream;
The birds were gone, and men also few.

Sent To Du Fu Below Shaqiu City Read Poem

What is it that I've come to now?

High before me: Shaqiu city.

Beside the city, ancient trees;
The sunset joins the autumn sounds.

The Lu wine cannot make me drunk,
Despite Qi's songs, my feelings return.

My thoughts of you are like the Wen's waters,
Mightily sent on their southern journey.

She Spins Silk Read Poem

Far up river in Szechuan,
waters rise as spring winds roar.

How can I dare to meet her now,
to brave the dangerous gorge?

The grass grows green in the valley below
where silk worms silently spin.

Her hands work threads that never end,
dawn to dusk when the cuckoo sings.

Li T'ai-po
tr.

Hamill

Sitting Alone On Jingting Mountain by Li Po Read Poem

A flock of birds
skims the upper sky
One white cloud
mopes lazily by.

We mark each other
mountain and I
Till only the mountain
fills my eye.

Li Po (701-762) is China's great Taoist and Buddhist poet.

Sitting Alone On Jingting Shan Hill Read Poem

A flock of birds is flying high in the distance,
A lonely cloud drifts idly on its own.

We gaze at each other, neither growing tired,
There is only Jingting Shan.

Song of an Autumn Midnight by Li Po Read Poem

A slip of the moon hangs over the capital;
Ten thousand washing-mallets are pounding;
And the autumn wind is blowing my heart
For ever and ever toward the Jade Pass.

.

.

.

Oh, when will the Tartar troops be conquered,
And my husband come back from the long campaign!

Song of the Forge Read Poem

The forge-fire sets a glow in the heavens,
the hammer thunders, showering the smoke with sparks.

A ruddy smithy, the white face of the moon,
and the hammer, ringing down cold dark canyons.

Li T'ai-po
tr.

Hamill

Song Of The Jade Cup Read Poem

A jade cup was broken because old age came
too soon to give fulfilment to hopes; after drinking
three cups of wine I wiped my sword and
started to dance under an autumn moon first
singing in a high voice then unable to halt
tears coming; I remember the day when first
I was summoned to court and I was feasted splendidly
writing poems in praise of the Emperor, making
jokes with officials around several times changing
my horse, taking the best from the
imperial stables; with my whip studded with
jade and coral presented to me by the Emperor,
my life was free and easy, people calling me
the "Banished Immortal.

" Hsi Shih was good
at smiling as well as frowning, useless
for ordinary girls to try and imitate her.

Surely it was only her loveliness the king adored,
but unfortunately jealousy within the palace
led to her death.

South-Folk in Cold Country Read Poem

The Dai horse neighs against the bleak wind of
Etsu,
The birds of Etsu have no love for En, in the north,
Emotion is born out of habit.

Yesterday we went out of the Wild-Goose gate,
To-day from the Dragon-Pen.

*
Surprised.

Desert turmoil.

Sea sun.

Flying snow bewilders the barbarian heaven.

Lice swarm like ants over our accoutrements.

Mind and spirit drive on the feathery banners.

Hard fight gets no reward.

Loyalty is hard to explain.

Who will be sorry for General Rishogu,
the swift moving,
Whose white head is lost for this province?

*NOTE by Pound: "i.

e.

, we have been warring from one end of the empire to the other, now east, now west, on each border.

"
This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems translated by Ezra Pound from the manuscripts of Ernest Fenollosa.

The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.

S.

Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time.

"
CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.

CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.

Spring Night In Lo-Yang Hearing A Flute Read Poem

In what house, the jade flute that sends these dark notes drifting,
scattering on the spring wind that fills Lo-yang?

Tonight if we should hear the willow-breaking song,
who could help but long for the gardens of home?

Staying The Night At A Mountain Temple Read Poem

The high tower is a hundred feet tall,
From here one's hand could pluck the stars.

I do not dare to speak in a loud voice,
I fear to disturb the people in heaven.

Summer Day in the Mountains Read Poem

In a copse of green pines,
I fling my hat on a rockspur,
hurling after it
the rest of my clothes.

Stretched at ease on soft grass,
lazily, I flick a white-feather fan,
as a pine breeze plays
in my loose, unknotted hair.

Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)

Summer in the Mountains Read Poem

Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt sitting in a green wood.

I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
A wind from the pine-tree trickles on my bare head.

Another translation:
Too lazy to shift my white feather fan
I lie naked in the green woods.

Hanging my hat on a rock,
I bare my head to the breeze in the pines.

Taking Leave of a Friend Read Poem

Blue mountains lie beyond the north wall;
Round the city’s eastern side flows the white water.

Here we part, friend, once forever.

You go ten thousand miles, drifting away
Like an unrooted water-grass.

Oh, the floating clouds and the thoughts of a wanderer!
Oh, the sunset and the longing of an old friend!
We ride away from each other, waving our hands,
While our horses neigh softly, softly .

.

.

.

Taking Leave of a Friend by Li Po Read Poem

Green mountains
steeple across the North Wall.

White riverwater
rushes round the city's east end.

From this place
once we part, a lone
tumbleweed, my friend
will be tossed ten thousand miles.

Like drifting clouds
his wanderer's dreams.

Like the sinking sun
his old friend's heart.

We wave hands
as he starts away, our horses
neighing to each other
as we shout our last goodbyes.

--Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2009)

Taking Leave of a Friend by Li Po Tr. by Ezra Pound Read Poem

Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.

Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.

Our horses neigh to each other
as we are departing.

This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems translated by Ezra Pound from the manuscripts of Ernest Fenollosa.

The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.

S.

Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time.

"
CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.

CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.

Talk in the Mountains [Question & Answer on the Mountain] Read Poem

You ask me, `Why dwell among green mountains?

'
I laugh in silence; my soul is quiet.

Peach blossom follows the moving water;
Here is a heaven and earth, beyond the world of men.

The Ching-Ting Mountain Read Poem

Flocks of birds have flown high and away;
A solitary drift of cloud, too, has gone, wandering on.

And I sit alone with the Ching-ting Peak, towering beyond.

We never grow tired of each other, the mountain and I.

The City of Choan Read Poem

The phoenix are at play on their terrace.

The phoenix are gone, the river flows on alone.

Flowers and grass
Cover over the dark path
where lay the dynastic house of the Go.

The bright cloths and bright caps of Shin
Are now the base of old hills.

The Three Mountains fall through the far heaven,
The isle of White Heron
splits the two streams apart.

Now the high clouds cover the sun
And I can not see Choan afar
And I am sad.

This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems translated by Ezra Pound from the manuscripts of Ernest Fenollosa.

The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.

S.

Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time.

"
CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.

CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.

The Cold Clear Spring At Nanyang Read Poem

A pity it is evening, yet
I do love the water of this spring
seeing how clear it is, how clean;
rays of sunset gleam on it,
lighting up its ripples, making it
one with those who travel
the roads; I turn and face
the moon; sing it a song, then
listen to the sound of the wind
amongst the pines.

The Moon At The Fortified Pass Read Poem

The bright moon lifts from the Mountain of Heaven
In an infinite haze of cloud and sea,
And the wind, that has come a thousand miles,
Beats at the Jade Pass battlements.

.

.

.

China marches its men down Baideng Road
While Tartar troops peer across blue waters of the bay.

.

.

.

And since not one battle famous in history
Sent all its fighters back again,
The soldiers turn round, looking toward the border,
And think of home, with wistful eyes,
And of those tonight in the upper chambers
Who toss and sigh and cannot rest.

The Old Dust Read Poem

The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a man come home.

One brief journey betwixt heaven and earth,
Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.

The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain;
Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood.

Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
When the green pines feel the coming of the spring.

Looking back, I sigh; looking before, I sigh again.

What is there to prize in the life's vaporous glory?

The River Song Read Poem

This boat is of shato-wood, and its gunwales are
cut magnolia,
Musicians with jewelled flutes and with pipes of gold
Fill full the sides in rows, and our wine
Is rich for a thousand cups.

We carry singing girls, drift with the drifting water,
Yet Sennin needs
A yellow stork for a charger, and all our seamen
Would follow the white gulls or ride them.

Kutsu's prose song
Hangs with the sun and moon.

King So's terraced palace
is now but barren hill,
But I draw pen on this barge
Causing the five peaks to tremble,
And I have joy in these words
like the joy of blue islands.

(If glory could last forever
Then the waters of Han would flow northward.

)
And I have moped in the Emperor's garden, await-
ing an order-to-write !
I looked at the dragon-pond, with its willow-
coloured water
Just reflecting the sky's tinge,
And heard the five-score nightingales aimlessly singing.

The eastern wind brings the green colour into the
island grasses at Yei-shu,
The purple house and the crimson are full of Spring
softness.

South of the pond the willow-tips are half-blue and
bluer,
Their cords tangle in mist, against the brocade-like
palace.

Vine-strings a hundred feet long hang down from
carved railings,
And high over the willows, the fine birds sing to
each other, and listen,
Crying—‘Kwan, Kuan,' for the early wind, and the
feel of it.

The wind bundles itself into a bluish cloud and
wanders off.

Over a thousand gates, over a thousand doors are
the sounds of spring singing,
And the Emperor is at Ko.

Five clouds hang aloft, bright on the purple sky,
The imperial guards come forth from the golden
house with their armour a-gleaming.

The Emperor in his jewelled car goes out to inspect
his flowers,
He goes out to Hori, to look at the wing-flapping
storks,
He returns by way of Sei rock, to hear the new
nightingales,
For the gardens at Jo-run are full of new nighting-
gales,
Their sound is mixed in this flute,
Their voice is in the twelve pipes here.

This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems translated by Ezra Pound from the manuscripts of Ernest Fenollosa.

The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.

Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time.

CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.

The River-Captain’s Wife – A Letter Read Poem

I with my hair in its first fringe
Romped outside breaking flower-heads.

You galloped by on bamboo horses.

We juggled green plums round the well.

Living in Chang-kan village,
Two small people without guile.

At fourteen I married you sir,
So bashful I could only hide,
My frowning face turned to the wall.

Called after -  never looking back.

Fifteen before I learnt to smile.

Yearned to be one with you forever.

You to be the Ever-Faithful.

I to not sit lonely, waiting.

At sixteen you sir went away,
Through White King’s Gorge, by Yen Rock’s rapids,
When the Yangtze’s at its highest,
Where the gibbons cried above you.

Here by the door your last footprints,
Slowly growing green mosses,
So deep I cannot sweep them,
Leaves so thick from winds of autumn.

September’s yellow butterflies
Twine together in our west garden.

What I feel – it hurts the heart.

Sadness makes my beauty vanish.

When you come down from far places,
Please will you write me a letter?

As far as the farthest reaches,
I’ll come out to welcome you.

The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter Read Poem

While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.

You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.

And we went on living in the village of Chokan:
Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.

At fourteen I married My Lord you.

I never laughed, being bashful.

Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.

Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.

At fifteen I stopped scowling,
I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
Forever and forever and forever.

Why should I climb the look out?

At sixteen you departed,
You went into far Ku-to-en, by the river of swirling eddies,
And you have been gone five months.

The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.

You dragged your feet when you went out.

By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,
Too deep to clear them away!
The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.

The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden;
They hurt me.

I grow older.

If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you
As far as Cho-fu-Sa.

Note: This is Pound's translation of a poem by the 8th century poet Li T'ai-Po -- such a free translation as to be a very different poem.

]

The Roosting Crows Read Poem

On Soochow’s terrace the crows find their nests.

The King of Wu in his palace drinks with Hsi Shih.

Songs of Wu, Dances of Chu quicken their pleasure
One half of the sun is caught in the valley’s throat.

The clock’s silver arrow marks the passing hours.

They rise early to see the autumn moon,
Watch it sink down into deep river.

Daylight glows in the East.

Dawn renews their joy.

The Solitude Of Night Read Poem

It was at a wine party—
I lay in a drowse, knowing it not.

The blown flowers fell and filled my lap.

When I arose, still drunken,
The birds had all gone to their nests,
And there remained but few of my comrades.

I went along the river—alone in the moonlight.

TRANSLATED BY SHIGEYOSHI OBATA

Thoughts In A Tranquil Night Read Poem

Athwart the bed
I watch the moonbeams cast a trail
So bright, so cold, so frail,
That for a space it gleams
Like hoar-frost on the margin of my dreams.

I raise my head, --
The splendid moon I see:
Then droop my head,
And sink to dreams of thee --
My Fatherland, of thee!

Thoughts On a Quiet Night by Li Po Read Poem

Moon-glitter
at the foot of my bedroll
seems on waking
to be feathers of frost.

I raise my head to gaze
at the glittering moon itself
then sink back
longing for home.

--Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)

Thoughts On A Still Night Read Poem

Before my bed, the moon is shining bright,
I think that it is frost upon the ground.

I raise my head and look at the bright moon,
I lower my head and think of home.

Three Poems on Wine Read Poem

I.

Among the flowers a drink of wine.

I sit alone without a friend.

So I invite the moon,
Then see my shadow, make us three.

The moon can’t know how to drink,
Since just my shadow drinks with me.

The moon brought shadow along
To keep me silent company.

Joy should reflect the season.

I sing.

That makes the Moon reel.

Get up.

Make my shadow sway.

While I’m here let’s celebrate.

When I’m drunk each seek the Way,
Tie ourselves to Eternal Journeys,
Swear to meet again in the Milky Way.

II
If the heavens were not in love with wine,
There’d be no Wine Star in the sky.

And if earth wasn’t always drinking,
There’d be nowhere called Wine Spring.

I’ve heard that pure wine makes the Sage.

Even the cloudy makes us wise.

If even the wise get there through drink,
What’s the point of True Religions?

Three times and I understand the Way,
Six and I’m one again with Nature.

Only the things we know when we’re drunk
Can never be expressed when we’re sober.

III
Third month in Ch’ang-an city,
Knee-deep in a thousand fallen flowers.

Alone in Spring who can stand this sadness?

Or sober see transient things like these?

Long life or short, rich or poor,
Our destiny’s determined by the world.

But drinking makes us one with life and death,
The Myriad Things we can barely fathom.

Drunk, Heaven and Earth are gone.

Stilled, I clutch my lonely pillow.

Forgetting that the Self exists,
That is the mind’s greatest joy.

Through The Yangzi Gorges Read Poem

From the walls of Baidi high in the coloured dawn
To Jiangling by night-fall is three hundred miles,
Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me
To my boat these ten thousand mountains away.

To His Two Children Read Poem

In the land of Wu the mulberry leaves are green,
And thrice the silkworms have gone to sleep.

In East Luh where my family stay,
I wonder who is sowing those fields of ours.

I cannot be back in time for the spring doings,
Yet I can help nothing, traveling on the river.

The south wind blowing wafts my homesick spirit
And carries it up to the front of our familiar tavern.

There I see a peach tree on the east side of the house
With thick leaves and branches waving in the blue mist.

It is the tree I planted before my parting three years ago.

The peach tree has grown now as tall as the tavern roof,
While I have wandered about without returning.

Ping-yang, my pretty daughter, I see you stand
By the peach tree and pluck a flowering branch.

You pluck the flowers, but I am not there
How your tears flow like a stream of water!
My little son, Po-chin, grown up to your sister's shoulders,
You come out with her under the peach tree,
But who is there to pat you on the back?

When I think of these things, my senses fail,
And a sharp pain cuts my heart every day.

Now I tear off a piece of white silk to write this letter,
And send it to you with my love a long way up the river.

To My Wife on Lu-shan Mountain Read Poem

Visiting the nun Rise-In-Air,
You must be near her place in those blue hills.

The river’s force helps pound the mica,
The wind washes rose bay tree flowers.

If you find you can’t leave that refuge,
Invite me there to see the sunset’s fire.

To Tan-Ch'iu Read Poem

My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range,
Dearly loving the beauty of valleys and hills.

At green Spring he lies in the empty woods,
And is still asleep when the sun shines on igh.

A pine-tree wind dusts his sleeves and coat;
A peebly stream cleans his heart and ears.

I envy you, who far from strife and talk
Are high-propped on a pillow of blue cloud.

Li Po
tr.

Waley

To Tu Fu from Shantung Read Poem

You ask how I spend my time—
I nestle against a treetrunk
and listen to autumn winds
in the pines all night and day.

Shantung wine can't get me drunk.

The local poets bore me.

My thoughts remain with you,
like the Wen River, endlessly flowing.

Li T'ai-po
tr.

Hamill

To Wang Lun Read Poem

I was about to sail away in a junk,
When suddenly I heard
The sound of stamping and singing on the bank—
It was you and your friends come to bid me farewell.

The Peach Flower Lake is a thousand fathoms deep,
But it cannot compare, O Wang Lun,
With the depth of your love for me.

Under The Moon Read Poem

Under the crescent moon's faint glow
The washerman's bat resounds afar,
And the autumn breeze sighs tenderly.

But my heart has gone to the Tartar war,
To bleak Kansuh and the steppes of snow,
Calling my husband back to me.

Viewing Heaven's Gate Mountains Read Poem

The River Chu cuts through the middle of heaven's gate,
The green water flowing east reaches here then swirls.

On either bank the blue hills face towards each other,
The flatness of a lonely sail comes from by of the sun.

Visiting a Taoist Master on Tai-T'ien Mountain by Li Po Read Poem

A dog's bark mingles with splashing water;
Nearby, peach blossoms fatten on spring rain.

Now and then in deep woods I spot deer;
Ahead, a rushing stream drowns out noon's bell;
Blades of wild bamboo slice blue mist;
From a jade peak erupts a torrent of snow-melt.

No one knows where the master has gone;
Leaning dejected on this and that pine, I linger.

--Translated by Stanton Hager
in
Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010

Visiting A Taoist On Tiatien Mountain Read Poem

Amongst bubbling streams
a dog barks; peach blossom
is heavy with dew; here
and there a deer can
be seen in forest glades!
No sound of the mid-day
bell enters this fastness
where blue mist rises
from bamboo groves;
down from a high peak
hangs a waterfall;
non knows where he has gone, so sadly I rest,
with my back leaning
against a pine.

Visiting The Taoist Priest Dai Tianshan But Not Finding Him Read Poem

A dog's bark amid the water's sound,
Peach blossom that's made thicker by the rain.

Deep in the trees, I sometimes see a deer,
And at the stream I hear no noonday bell.

Wild bamboo divides the green mist,
A flying spring hangs from the jasper peak.

No-one knows the place to which he's gone,
Sadly, I lean on two or three pines.

Waking from Drunken Sleep on a Spring Day by Li Po Read Poem

Life is a dream.

No need to stir.

Remembering this I’m drunk all day.

Lying helpless beside the porch,
Waking to see the deep garden.

One bird calls among the flowers.

Ask myself what’s the season?

Song of the oriole in Spring breezes,
Voice of beauty sadly moves me.

Is there wine?

Ah, fill the cup.

Sing and watch the white moon rise,
until song’s end and sense is gone.

Waterfall at Lu-shan Read Poem

Sunlight streams on the river stones.

From high above, the river steadily plunges—
three thousand feet of sparkling water—
the Milky Way pouring down from heaven.

Li T'ai-po
tr.

Hamill

We Fought for - South of the Walls Read Poem

(To an old tune)
We fought for Mulberry Springs
Die now for Garlic River.

Wash our swords in Parthian Seas,
Feed our mounts on T’ien Shan snows.

Thousands of miles to and fro.

The Three Armies tired and old.

These Huns kill instead of ploughing,
Sow white bones in desert sand.

Ch’in built the Great Wall.

Han keeps the bright beacons.

These fires never die.

These wars never end.

Hand to hand we fight and fail,
Horses screaming to the skies.

Kites and crows pick at our flesh
Perch on dead trees with our dead.

We paint the grasses red,
Because our General had a plan.

The sword I say’s an evil thing.

A wise man keeps it from his hand.

Yearning Read Poem

Misted the flowers weep as light dies
Moon of white silk sleeplessly cries.

Stilled - Phoenix wings.

Touched - Mandarin strings.

This song tells secrets that no one knows
To far Yenjan on Spring breeze it goes.

To you it flies
Through the night skies.

Sidelong - Eyes.

How
White tears fill now!
Heart’s pain?

Come see -
In this mirror with me.

Ziyi Song Read Poem

Chang-an -- one slip of moon;
in ten thousand houses, the sound of fulling mallets.

Autumn winds keep on blowing,
all things make me think of Jade Pass!
When will they put down the barbarians
and my good man come home from his far campaign?

[Facing] Wine Read Poem

Drinking, I sit,
Lost to Night,
Keep falling petals
From the ground:
Get up to follow
The stream’s white moon,
No sign of birds,
The humans gone.

The Jewel Stairs’ Grievance Read Poem

The jewelled steps are already quite white with dew,
It is so late that the dew soaks my gauze stockings,
And I let down the crystal curtain
And watch the moon through the clear autumn.

A Poem of Changgan Read Poem

My hair had hardly covered my forehead.

I was picking flowers, playing by my door,
When you, my lover, on a bamboo horse,
Came trotting in circles and throwing green plums.

We lived near together on a lane in Ch’ang-kan,
Both of us young and happy-hearted.

.

.

.

At fourteen I became your wife,
So bashful that I dared not smile,
And I lowered my head toward a dark corner
And would not turn to your thousand calls;
But at fifteen I straightened my brows and laughed,
Learning that no dust could ever seal our love,
That even unto death I would await you by my post
And would never lose heart in the tower of silent watching.

.

.

.

Then when I was sixteen, you left on a long journey
Through the Gorges of Ch’u-t’ang, of rock and whirling water.

And then came the Fifth-month, more than I could bear,
And I tried to hear the monkeys in your lofty far-off sky.

Your footprints by our door, where I had watched you go,
Were hidden, every one of them, under green moss,
Hidden under moss too deep to sweep away.

And the first autumn wind added fallen leaves.

And now, in the Eighth-month, yellowing butterflies
Hover, two by two, in our west-garden grasses
And, because of all this, my heart is breaking
And I fear for my bright cheeks, lest they fade.

.

.

.

Oh, at last, when you return through the three Pa districts,
Send me a message home ahead!
And I will come and meet you and will never mind the distance,
All the way to Chang-feng Sha.

The Solitude of Night Read Poem

It was at a wine party—
I lay in a drowse, knowing it not.

The blown flowers fell and filled my lap.

When I arose, still drunken,
The birds had all gone to their nests,
And there remained but few of my comrades.

I went along the river—alone in the moonlight.

Zazen on Ching-t’ing Mountain Read Poem

The birds have vanished down the sky.

Now the last cloud drains away.

We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.

Poems by Li Po

Harry

Poems