Li Po (Li Bai - 701-762)

Ancient Air


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.

Li Po

Han Shan (9th Cent.)

In the mountains it's cold.

Always been cold, not just this year.

Jagged scarps forever snowed in

Woods in the dark ravines spitting mist.

Grass is still sprouting at the end of June,

Leaves begin to fall in early August.

And here I am, high on mountains,

Peering and peering, but I can't even see the sky.

Po Chu-i (772-846)

Written While on Night Duty at the Palace, to Send to Yuan Ninth


Ten thousand threads of thought, two sheets written:
before sealing them, I read them over, wonder if they’ll do.
The palace water clock has just sounded the fifth watch,
the lamp in the window, my one light, about to go out.

Fan Zhongyan (989-1052)

To the Tune of Su mu zhe


Blue cloudy sky

Yellow leave ground

Autumnal waves

Under cold blue mist.

Hills cathch the setting sun, sky and water emerge.

Unfeeling, fragrant grasses grow

On and on past the setting sun.



Unhappy homesick soul

Obsessed with travel cares—

Night brings no relief

Except when pleasant dreams prolong the sleep.

Don’t look out alone when the moon shines—

The wine in your melancholy heart

Will turn to tears of longing.

Taigu Ryokan (1758-1831)

Reply to a Friend
by Ryokan

English version by Mei Hui Huang and Larry Smith
Original Language Japanese


In stubborn stupidity, I live on alone
befriended by trees and herbs.
Too lazy to learn right from wrong,
I laugh at myself, ignoring others.
Lifting my bony shanks, I cross the stream,
a sack in my hand, blessed by spring weather.
Living thus, I want for nothing,
at peace with all the world.

Your finger points to the moon,
but the finger is blind until the moon appears.
What connection has moon and finger?
Are they separate objects or bound?
This is a question for beginners
wrapped in seas of ignorance.
Yet one who looks beyond metaphor
knows there is no finger; there is no moon.

Shih Ching (10-7 cent. BC)

'Fair, fair,' cry the ospreys

On the island in the river.

Lovely is this noble lady,

Fit bride for our lord.



In patches grows the water mallow:

To left and right one must seek it.

Shy was this noble lady;

Day and night he sought her.



Sought her and could not get her;

Day and night he grieved.

Long thoughts, oh, long unhappy thoughts,

Now on his back, now tossing on to his side.



In patches grow the water mallow;

To left and right one must gather it.

Shy is this noble lady;

With great zithern and little we hearten her.

Jang Seok-Nam

Hanging Plum-Blossom

After examining the stump of the plum-tree outside the gate buried years ago,
there being as yet no sign,
back in my room after adjusting my icy shadow,
I unrolled and hung up on the eastward wall a painting of pink plum-blossom
by Master Ko-San.
Plum-blossom painting was a favorite pastime of people long ago, so suppose I
wash my face, at least, sit down and greet the old days?
On branches extending hesitantly to the left, five fully blooming flowers,
three buds;
after bending it again, on the branches appearing on that part four buds now spread,
uh uh, five,
so on which of them do I wish I was now?
The love in retrospect
and the void in anticipation are crystal clear.

After full consideration, going out with icy shoulders
I once again squat before the plum-tree stump.
As the sound of evening bells comes close at dusk,
darkness comes, rocks come,
and someone’s eyes come too,
come . . .

Li Po (Li Bai- 701-762)

Ballads Of Four Seasons: Winter


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?

Luo Binwang (640-684)

I am not a member of any organized political party. I am a Democrat.