Hiking to the hilltop
To get a better view,
I found myself in clouds
That edged the sky of blue.
Standing upon a cliff,
(How high? I cannot know,)
I doubt cloud would catch me,
If I'd let myself go.
But it looked so fluffy,
Like it could bear my weight,
But then the sky 'd looked clear
From down the valley strait.
I guess the moral is:
One just can't trust the sky;
If you leap into the clouds,
It's certain that you'll die,
& when you think the sky clear
You may be denied.
Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.
But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?
Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grew duller
From contact with the earth,
Next to nothing for color.
Next to nothing for use,
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?
Crumbling is not an instant's Act
A fundamental pause
Dilapidation's processes
Are organized Decays --
'Tis first a Cobweb on the Soul
A Cuticle of Dust
A Borer in the Axis
An Elemental Rust --
Ruin is formal -- Devil's work
Consecutive and slow--
Fail in an instant, no man did
Slipping -- is Crashe's law --
Strong winds ripple water;
Forest trees are laid low...
A bitter urge to die --
One can't come; one can't go.
Ten decades flow, stream-like;
Riches are cold, gray ash.
Life 's a death procession --
Unless you're adept and brash,
And can take up the sword
To hasten the anguish...
No rustling dry leaves, or
Leaky roof as you languish.
NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a crude translation of the nineteenth of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 悲慨, and it has been translated as: “Despondent,” and “Sorrowful.”
Fish mill about the koi pond --
No hooks or fishnets;
Just falling leaves to break up
Hours into minutes.
Surgeons must be very careful
When they take the knife!
Underneath their fine incisions
Stirs the Culprit -- Life!
"Faith" is a fine invention
For Gentlemen who see!
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency!
The stone Bodhidharma,
Meant as more than likeness.
It tries to copy Damo's
Stillness & uprightness.
Turtles sun on pier foundations
at the very edge.
So that upon the merest glance
They can slip the ledge,
And sink down into the pond's depths
To hide amid the murk.
Those who aren't shy can never know
Just how hard is its work.
Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protruded, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 