Afar, colorful mountains. Near, silent waters. Spring 's gone but flowers remain. People come but birds aren't startled.
Original: 遠看山有色 近聽水無聲 春去花還在 人來鳥不驚

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
Dao De Jing: A Minimalist Translation by Lao Zi
Cold Mountain Poems by Gary Snyder
Poetry and prose of the Tang and Song by Yang Xianyi
Cold Mountain: One Hundred Poems by the t’Ang Poet Han-Shan by Hanshan
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
This brief collection gathers one hundred poems from the T’ang Dynasty poet Han-Shan. Most of the poems included consist of a single eight-line stanza of unrhymed verse of varied meter. [With a few exceptions that had more or fewer lines (often four or twelve.)] I do like that they didn’t pad out edition that I read with a lot of inane babble [as publishers are want to do when a volume is on the thin side.] Part of the reason that they may not have done so is that there is virtually nothing known about the author. It’s not even known whether there was a Han-Shan (i.e. as opposed to a group of people whose poems were anthologized under one name.)
The poems reflect Taoism’s disdain for pretension, authority, or scholarship for scholarship’s sake. Many of the poems reflect Zen sensibilities (which became entwined with Taoist sensibilities.) That is to say, like Zen koan, they seek to interrupt the tendency to overintellectualize matters. That said, in places the poems take a bit of a mocking attitude toward Buddhism. Nature plays prominently among the poems. And some of the poems are humorous or irreverent.
There are footnotes that are helpful in explaining verse that references teachings and events that would have been known to Han-Shan’s readership back in his day, but which most individuals who aren’t experts on Chinese folklore, literature, or religious teachings wouldn’t be likely to get, otherwise.
I enjoyed these poems tremendously. While I can’t say how they related to the original text, the translations were — on their own – works that conveyed wit and wisdom. I’d highly recommend this collection for poetry readers.