Drunk, me and my boat float freely downriver.
Unfortunately, I can't stay amid the flowers.
Hazy waters sprawl; sun, countless mountains high.
Red blossoms shower downward.
I don't know how I got here.
“Rouged Lips” by Qin Guan [w/ Audio]
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The Banished Immortal: A Life of Li Bai by Ha JinLush grass covers the plains.
One year it withers; the next, it thrives.
Wildfires burn, but not to eradication.
With Spring winds, it's rejuvenated.
Its aroma floats in to subdue derelict paths.
Vivid green overtakes the ghost town.
I say farewell to departing friends
as intense feeling swells within.
In Chinese [Simplified]:
离离原上草 一岁一枯荣
野火烧不尽 春风吹又生
远芳侵古道 晴翠接荒城
又送王孙去 萋萋满别情

Hundreds of cold sparrows dive into the empty courtyard, cluster on plum branches and speak of sun after rain at dusk. They choose to gather en masse and kill me with noise. Suddenly startled, they disperse. Then, soundlessness.
NOTE: This translation from: Barnstone, Tony & Chou Ping. 2005. The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry. New York: Random House. p.422.
The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry: From Ancient to Contemporary, The Full 3000-Year Tradition by Tony BarnstoneA pot of wine, under blossoms. I drink alone, no friends in sight. I raise a cup to lustrous Moon: Me, Moon, and Shadow will make three. But Moon is a teetotaler. And Shadow just skulks at my feet. Still, Moon & Shadow are my chums. We need a bash before Spring's end. But my singing makes Moon recoil. And Shadow flops hard when I dance. At first, we have a grand old time, But we part ways when I drift off. We should keep this epic friendship rolling, and meet again in the River of Stars.
NOTE: I produced this “translation” / arrangement, using translations by Arthur Waley, Ezra Pound, and that of “The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry” [ed. by Tony Barnstone and Chou Ping] to get varied takes on the source poem.
The Poet Li Po A.D. 701-762 by Arthur Waley