I dwell in Possibility -- A fairer House than Prose -- More numerous of Windows -- Superior -- for doors -- Of Chambers as the Cedars -- Impregnable of eye -- And for an everlasting Roof The Gambrels of the Sky -- Of Visitors -- the fairest -- For Occupation -- This -- The spreading wide of my narrow Hands To gather Paradise --
bee-eater sits still -- not searching, not flitting: worried of bee's plight?
A 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.
grasses sway, the egret stalks, & even tree roots seem to crawl.
a young monkey king kongs through a forest of aerial roots.
I've known rivers: I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers. I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young. I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep. I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it. I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset. I've known rivers: Ancient, dusky rivers. My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
One foot in the river. One foot on the shore. Both feet sunk in the mud. The fisherman casts his net with perfect flick and spin, muck extruding between toes. The sling is the one quick part of the movement: quick, but unrushed. The net is hauled back, slowly and methodically, pressing out excess water while offering no escape route. How many casts per day? As many as are necessary. There are other fishers, out on languidly rocking boats, casting out in the river. And in rivers everywhere: in the Mekong, the Amazon, the Euphrates, and the Mississippi Delta. Everywhere, they are casting.
drifting downstream,
the prow points our way
to open sea.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 