Short Poems

How seldom, friend! a good great man inherits
Honour or wealth with all his worth and pains!
It sounds, like stories from the land of spirits,
If any man obtain that, which he merits,
Or any merits that, which he obtains.

And in my heart
A root long-buried
Puts forth a delicate frond.

I would have borne long torture of the flesh for you
— Would have given my body like grass.
But unending torment of the spirit I cannot give.
My pain passed
With the blossoming of the first blue morning-glories.

In front of the hut, she scavenges for dates: let her be.
Hungry, childless, the lone woman,
Only the deepest poverty could bring her to this
Her fear, her shame, call the more for kindness
True, she has no reason to distrust her new neighbor.
Yet even a sparse hedge would seem a wall to her
To think of the taxes: poor to the bone
And the horses of war: tears wet my sleeve.

Clear stream, meanders by the village, flowing.
Long summer days, at River Village, everything at ease.
Coming, going, as they please; a pair of soaring swallows
There, paired and close, out on the water, gulls
My old wife draws a board for chess.
My son bends pins for fishhooks.
I'm often sick, but I can find good herbs
What, beyond this, could a simple man ask?

FROM THE GREEK

ON A BEAUTIFUL BATH AT SMYRNA .

The Graces bathing on a day,
Love stole their robes and ran away;
So naked here they since have been
Ashamed in day-light to be seen.

IMITATED FROM THE FRENCH

ON THE DEATH OF A SPENDTHRIFT.

His last great Debt is paid — poor Tom's no more
Last Debt! Tom never paid a Debt before.

Toward Toba Palace
five or six armed horsemen hurry —
an autumn storm.

Hope, heaven-born Cherub still appears,
Howe'er misfortune seems to lower:
Her smile the threat'ning tempest clears,
And is the Rainbow of the Shower!

Flash of lightning —
girdled by waves
the islands of Japan.