Deer Woods
Deer Woods
Wang Wei (692-761)Deserted woods — and no one here to see,
Yet still out there I hear the words of spite;
Returning deep within the woods, a scene:
A patch of green shade moss reflects the light.
| Chinese 鹿柴 王維 空山不見人 但聞人語響 返景入深林 復照青苔上 | Pronunciation Lù Chái Wáng Wéi |
Watching the Plum Blossoms
Watching the Plum Blossoms
Lu You (1125-1209)The plum trees bloom above the gold grass hill —
Though old, a man cannot enjoy their fluff?
Light mist, the moon, the far-off cattle still —
There’s life and death; don’t fret the common stuff.
| Chinese 看梅絕句 陸游 梅花樹下黃茆丘 古人尚能愛花不 月淡煙深聽牧笛 |
For Li Ju, Scholar
For Li Ju, Scholar
Sikong Tu (~720–790)
The winds blow high before the five long peaks
To bring the life that lifts us from our flaws;
For miles around, no clouds – a lonely crane –
It seems the same, but he’s in heaven’s jaws.
Wandering to a New Town
Wandering to a New Town
Li Shunxian (~ 910)Life’s carriage takes me quick to heaven’s light,
But here I pause to part this world of dust;
Alone, afraid, pursuing dreams of flight,
Yet here I’m old with dread, and leave I must.
| Chinese 隨駕遊青城 李舜弦 因隨八馬上仙山 頓隔塵埃物象閑 隻恐西追王母宴 卻憂難得到人間 | Pronunciation |
A Man with Crumbs
A tree top twig
Beneath the empty sky
I look among
The world’s connected strings
From a lofty view
That's twenty stories high
It’s here I see
The flutters filled with wings
This morning’s hush
As Hudson’s sparkle comes
Around it flows
With autumn’s remnant leaves
The pigeon sky
Above the man with crumbs
As they flock around
And eat his cake like thieves
His hands still move
But nothing now is heard
He made a pledge
With truth that sounds like lie
New York Harbor
Leaf and flower
Have fallen in the wind
A petal gone
The ocean never ends
The sea mist comes
An unexpected guest
As even now
The gray moon lingers west
What little air
Has blown with pure scent
My father gone
The door from which he went
As dust is dry
It finds its life frontier
But loses track
A line of song unclear
I stop to stare
The dead moon’s life reflection
But quiet now
I walk without direction
Plum Garden
For Boris and Miona
They find a garden lush with plum-air scents
As spring sun filters through the dew-dust leaves
And subtle sighs arise while fruit ferments,
For Eden enters Earth when minds conceive.
Within the garden deep an oak tree grows,
Preserving plum and fruit from sudden squalls
With roots that sink in soil where winds oppose,
To keep the flowers fresh as flurries fall.
Emerging from primordial chaos fair,
This Earth now holds the veins where plum wine flows:
Anchored at Jiande River
Meng Haoran
This anchored boat’s astir in fog and breeze,
As sunset rends my fears up once again,
But as the sky descends beneath the trees,
The river, moon, and quiet become my friends.
Venice, California
A Country Road
The moon has shadowed me, like stillborn air
Along a country road, adrift in threads,
Behind a worn out wheel, the pedals bare,
As time leaves nothing here but cast off dead.
I share these words with clouds in wind-washed treads,
Where rock-strewn shores in riddled dreams belie
And time has spun in tight a spider’s web
Of figures etched in deep the dusk-drawn sky.
With this in mind I set aside my clothes,
Now freshly pressed for travels lost, to where
The door is shut and all my business goes—
