Li Bai (701-762)

1. Thoughts in the Silent Night — Li Bai

李白《静夜思》
床前明月光，
疑是地上霜。
举头望明月，
低头思故乡。

Thoughts in the Silent Night
By Li Bai
Translated by Yang Xianyi & Dai Naidie

Beside my bed a pool of light—
Is it hoarfrost on the ground?
I lift my eyes and see the moon,
I bend my head and think of home.

Thoughts in the Silent Night is one of the most well-known Chinese poems written by Li Bai. This short poem uses only a few words and is quite concise in wordage, but it is endowed with the passion that stimulates the bottom of one’s heart and arouses an intense feeling of nostalgia very naturally.

Tao Chien (365-427)

Drinking Alone In Continuous Rain

Destiny and life both have an ending;
From of old it has been so.
In this world there was a stately pine,
And where is it now?
An old friend gave me wine;
He said it would make me feel spritely.
I tried to drink it, and all my emotions soared.
I drank again to my heart's content,
Forgetting suddenly that there is a heaven.
Is heaven not also here?
Relying on my inner self, I stand before the universe.
Only the cloud crane has strange wings,
Returning in a wink of time.
I, alone, embracing this self,
Have muddled through for more than forty years.
The body has undergone much change,
But the heart lives on. What more can I say?

 

Tao Chien :

Mei Yaochen (1002-1060)

Mourning Loss
Mei Yaochen

When we two first became husband and wife
Was seventeen years ago today.
We couldn't look at each other enough,
What loss could compare to this?
Already, my temples are mostly white,
I'd rather my body had finished its time.
In the end, we'll share a tomb;
Still not dead, I weep and weep.

Luo Bin Wang (640-684)

In Prison the Cicadas Still Sing

Along the road running west
The cicadas sing
And from the south too
So loudly it sounds like
A visitor approaching

How long the song lasts
From their fragile black wings
Yet my white shaggy head
Detects a note of gloom

As autumn’s heavy mists
Make flight unthinkable
And the wind grows stronger
Their song will be submerged

So too by my fellow man
I have been left here forgotten
No one shows the least regard
For the songs that yet
Would fill my heart


在獄詠蟬并序

西路蟬聲唱
南冠客思侵
那堪玄鬢影
來對白頭吟
露重飛難進
風多響易沉
無人信高潔
誰為表予心
Not long after he wrote the poem, Luo was executed, although the Empress Wu, having been previously impressed by his poetic talents, did arrange for a posthumous publication of a collection of his work. Even so, this great poem provides me with a strange consolation, in the realization that there are indeed much worse fates than the obscurity in which we American poets usually toil.

Tao Qian (132-194)

Drinking Wine
Tao Qian

I made my home amidst this human bustle,
Yet I hear no clamour from the carts and horses.
My friend, you ask me how this can be so?
A distant heart will tend towards like places.
From the eastern hedge, I pluck chrysanthemum flowers,
And idly look towards the southern hills.
The mountain air is beautiful day and night,
The birds fly back to roost with one another.
I know that this must have some deeper meaning,
I try to explain, but cannot find the words.

Han Shan (fl.9th cent)

Poem 106

The layered bloom of hills and streams
Kingfisher shades beneath rose-colored clouds
mountain mists soak my cotton bandanna,
dew penetrates my palm-bark coat.
On my feet are traveling shoes,
my hand holds an old vine staff.
Again I gaze beyond the dusty world-
what more could I want in that land of dreams

Loy Ching-Yuen (1873-1960)

Flow

We can hold back
neither the coming of the flowers
nor the downward rush of the stream;
sooner or later,
everything comes to its fruition.

Xiao Kang (?)

Funeral Of Century(1)

XiaoKang Ma
Section 1

Sadness falls as a meteor
Dry the last drop of tear
Desperation, the iron chains
To tie everyone's throat deadly
Brief tortures brief
There is no place for salvation
On the land abandoned by God
In the East, in the East -
Before A hundred years ago
The wind blows the horn
The crow encourages us to commit suicide
Tortoise tries to wake the land up
He is too slow, too slow-
To find the ear of land
Flood water is coming!
Coming from east of the east
Judgment-Day, isn’t it?
To foretell the future
To wait for angry of God
To trouble in huge seas
Now, everyone on this land
Pick up the shovel
Get ready to bury, bury this century
Digging out the truth and false
Never stop! Until we bury ourselves
when the blood is flying in the night
Twinkled is nothing but eye of Satan
Drizzle, Drizzle-
Moisten the thirsty throat selflessly
And expand them inside the chains
Flower breaks off blooming
Grass are ready to be trampled
The sea carries floor water-
In silent tribute with anger and killing
Fly in the sky
Float down the wave
Fell into the ground
A red night, A red night

Xiao Kang :

Li He (790-816)

Li Ping At The Vertical Harp

Silk from Wu, paulownia from Shu,
Strummed in high autumn,
In the white sky the frozen clouds
Falling, not floating.
Ladies of the River weeping among bamboos,
The White Girl mournful
As Li Ping plays his harp
In the centre of the Kingdom.

Jade from Mount Kun is shattered,
Phoenixes shriek,
Lotuses are weeping dew,
Fragrant orchids smile.

Before the twelve gates of the city
The cold light melts,
The twenty-three strings can move
The Purple Emperor

Where Nü Gua smelted stones
To weld the sky,
Stones split asunder, sky startles,
Autumn rains gush forth.
He goes in dreams to the Spirit Mountain
To teach the Weird Crone,
Old fishes leap above the waves,
Gaunt dragons dance.

Wu Ch'i, unsleeping still,
Leans on his cassia tree,
As wing-foot dew aslant
Drenches the shivering hare.

 

Li He :