“Impromptu Lines Written on a Spring Day” [春日偶成] by Cheng Hao [程颢]

Towards noon fleecy clouds waft in the gentle breeze;
I cross the stream amid flowers and willow trees.
What do the worldlings know about my hearty pleasure?
They'd only take me for a truant fond of leisure.

Note: This is the joint translation of Xu Yuanchong and Xu Ming found in the edition of Golden Treasury of Quatrains and Octaves on which they collaborated (i.e. China Publishing Group: Beijing (2008.))

“We should not mind so small a flower” by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

We should not mind so small a flower 
Except it quiet bring
Our little garden that we lost
Back to the Lawn again -

So spicy her Carnations nod -
So drunken, reel her Bees -
So silver, steal a hundred flutes
From out a hundred trees -

That whoso sees this little flower
By faith, may clear behold
The Bobolinks around the throne
And Dandelions gold.

“Sundown” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [w/ Audio]

The summer sun is sinking low;
Only the tree-tops redden and glow:
Only the weathercock on the spire
Of the neighboring church is a flame of fire;
All is in shadow below.

O beautiful, awful summer day,
What hast thou given, what taken away?
Life and death, and love and hate,
Homes made happy or desolate,
Hearts made sad or gay!

On the road of life one mile-stone more!
In the book of life one leaf turned o'er!
Like a red seal is the setting sun
On the good and the evil men have done,--
Naught can to-day restore!

Song – “My silks and fine array” by William Blake [w/ Audio]

My silks and fine array,
My smiles and languish'd air,
By love are driv'n away;
And mournful lean Despair
Brings me yew to deck my grave:
Such end true lovers have.

His face is fair as heav'n,
When springing buds unfold;
O why to him was't giv'n,
Whose heart is wintry cold?
His breast is love's all worship'd tomb,
Where all love's pilgrims come.

Bring me an axe and spade,
Bring me a winding sheet;
When I my grave have made,
Let winds and tempests beat:
Then down I'll lie, as cold as clay.
True love doth pass away!

“The Taoist Temple Revisited” [再游玄都观] by Liu Yuxi [刘禹锡]

In half of the wide courtyard only mosses grow;
Peach blossoms all fallen, only rape flowers blow.
Where is the Taoist planting peach trees in this place?
Only I come again after my new disgrace.

Note: This is the joint translation of Xu Yuanchong and Xu Ming found in the edition of <em>Golden Treasury of Quatrains and Octaves</em> on which they collaborated (i.e. China Publishing Group: Beijing (2008.))

The “new disgrace” referenced was Liu Yuxi’s second exile.

Mount Zhongnan [终南山] by Wang Wei [王维] [w/ Audio]

Taiyi stretches toward heaven;
Linked mountains reach into the sea.
Looking back, white clouds coalesce;
In the mist, the mist can't be seen.
A ridge is a boundary of worlds:
Cloudy or clear; with - or sans - tree.
In need of lodging for the night,
I ask the woodsman cross river from me.

This is poem #118 of the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首.] The original in Simplified Chinese is:

太乙近天都, 连山接海隅。
白云回望合, 青霭入看无。
分野中峰变, 阴晴众壑殊。
欲投人处宿, 隔水问樵夫。

“Not All There” by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]

I turned to speak to God
About the world’s despair;
But to make bad matters worse
I found God wasn’t there.

God turned to speak to me
(Don’t anybody laugh)
God found I wasn’t there—
At least not over half.

“I fear’d the fury of my wind” by William Blake [w/ Audio]

I fear’d the fury of my wind
Would blight all blossoms fair & true,
And my sun it shin’d & shin’d,
And my wind it never blew.

But a blossom fair or true
Was not found on any tree;
For all blossoms grew & grew
Fruitless, false, tho’ fair to see.

“I Asked a Thief To Steal Me a Peach” by William Blake [w/ Audio]

I asked a thief to steal me a peach:
He turn'd up his eyes.
I ask'd a lithe lady to lie her down:
Holy and meek she cries.

As soon as I went an angel came:
He wink'd at the thief
And smil'd at the dame,
And without one word spoke
Had a peach from the tree,
And 'twixt earnest and joke
Enjoy'd the Lady.

“The Props assist the House” (729) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

The Props assist the House
Until the House is built
And then the Props withdraw
And adequate, erect,
The House support itself
And cease to recollect
The Augur and the Carpenter –
Just such a retrospect
Hath the perfected Life –
A Past of Plank and Nail
And slowness – then the scaffolds drop
Affirming it a Soul –