When am I coming home? I don't know.
At Bashan, night rains swell Autumn ponds.
Recall, candles in your West Window?
Ah, through night rains, to talk and bond!
The original in Simplified Chinese:
君问归期未有期， 巴山夜雨涨秋池。
何当共剪西窗烛， 却话巴山夜雨时？
Note: This is poem #298 of the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首.]
After choosing one's scope of thought,
Turn the words and note their order.
Embrace the hot ones, feel their burn;
Knock on lines and hear their timbre.
Use the branches to shake the leaves,
And waves can be traced to their source.
Make the hidden come visible;
Make the difficult seem simple.
A tiger's transformation startles --
Birds take flight on sight of dragons.
Sometimes words nest into each other;
Sometimes, jaggedly, they won't mesh.
With a clear, contemplative mind
Hordes filter through to easy speech.
Heaven and Earth contained within:
All things flow from the brush with ease.
Starting timidly with dry mouth,
Ending with a wandering brush.
Meaning is borne by a stout trunk,
Language hangs like leaf and fruit.
Make words and intended meaning match
As moods show clearly on a face.
When happiness comes, laugh & smile,
And with sorrow let loose a sigh.
At times words flow spontaneously;
At times one bites one's brush, musing.
The Original in Simplified Chinese:
然后选义按部，考辞就班。
抱暑者咸叩， 怀响者毕弹。
或因枝以振叶，或沿波而讨源。
或本隐以之显，或求易而得难。
或虎变而兽扰，或龙见而鸟澜。
或妥帖而易施，或岨峿而不安。
罄澄心以凝思，眇众虑而为言。
笼天地于形内，挫万物于笔端。
始踯躅于燥吻，终流离失所于濡翰。
理扶质以立干，文垂条而结繁。
信情貌之不差，故每变而在颜。
思涉乐其必笑，方言哀而已叹。
或操觚以率尔，或含毫而邈然。
Yan grass shimmers like silken jade.
Qin mulberry trees' green leaves droop.
Your homecoming is now at hand
As heartbreak has me thin and stooped.
Spring Winds and I are strangers --
Why, past my curtains, the inward swoop?
Chinese Title: 春思; Original poem in Simplified Chinese:
燕草如碧丝， 秦桑低绿枝；
当君怀归日， 是妾断肠时。
春风不相识， 何事入罗帏？
Note: this is poem #7 in “300 Tang Poems” [唐诗三百首]
Slender grass waves in a light breeze;
Tall-masted boat rocks in the night.
Stars hang low, over the vast plain;
The river moon struggles for height.
I'll never gain fame by the brush --
Too old for civil service posts...
Wading, wading, what am I like?
A sandpiper on the mud coast!
The original in Chinese (Title: 旅夜書懷):
細草微風岸，
危檣獨夜舟。
星垂平野闊，
月湧大江流。
名豈文章著，
官應老病休。
飄飄何所似，
天地一沙鷗。
This is Poem 113 of “Three Hundred Tang Poems,” i.e. 唐诗三百首
Close your eyes and listen with care.
Turn all your attention inside.
Let your soul ride the Eight Borders
At a galloping stride.
Inner space brightens, becomes more
Compact, as one views the expanse.
Words pour forth to cleanse the soul,
As the Six Arts lend a fragrance.
Float, swim, and dive in the abyss,
Heedful for words as it all soaks in...
Sometimes the right word must be hooked,
And hauled up where it can be spoken.
But, other times, words are like birds,
That fly themselves out of the clouds,
To be downed by one swift arrow --
Quite willingly freed of their shrouds.
Mine for lines lost ages ago --
Rhymes unsung for ten centuries.
Thank tight buds for the sweet flowers
That they - soon enough - will be.
See past and present concurrently,
At once, touch mountain and sea.
The Original in Simplified Chinese:
其始也，皆收视反听，耽思傍讯，精骛八极，心游万仞。
其致也，情曈曨而弥鲜，物昭晣而互进。
倾群言之沥液，漱六艺之芳润。
浮天渊以安流，濯下泉而潜浸。
于是沈辞怫悦，若游鱼衔钩，而出重渊之深；
浮藻联翩，若翰鸟缨缴，而坠曾云之峻。
收百世之阙文，采千载之遗韵。
谢朝华于已披，启夕秀于未振。
观古今于须臾，抚四海于一瞬。
The poet stands in the Center
And stares into deep mysteries.
He's nourished by reading Classics
And tombs of the men in Histories.
He sighs as four seasons pass by
And thinks upon ten-thousand things.
He's saddened by Autumn's leaf drop
And gladdened by the tender Spring.
He feels Winter's frost on his heart,
Though his mind may be up in a cloud.
And when he sings of ancestors'
Heroic deeds, he belts the song aloud.
He combs through great literature
Just as he roams the forest wild,
But in search of a "natural" --
Shown in elegant phrase and style.
And it's just such thoughts and feelings
That set my brush and mind wheeling.
The Original Chinese:
佇中區以玄覽，頤情志於典墳。
遵四時以嘆逝，瞻萬物而思紛。
悲落葉於勁秋，喜柔條於芳春，
心懍懍以懷霜，志眇眇而臨雲。
詠世德之駿烈，誦先人之清芬。
游文章之林府，嘉麗藻之彬彬。
慨投篇而援筆，聊宣之乎斯文。
Asleep on a leaf beneath lotus blooms,
Their fragrance floats across the misty lake.
Sudden rain - taps upon the canopy;
Its sound snaps me from sleep to wide awake!
The lotus is beaded with rain droplets --
Like pearls, drops roll together and apart;
The clear blobs coalesce like mercury,
Dripping to the river... back to their start.
The moon sets; crows caw below frosty skies.
Boats, moored to maples -- lamps glow like cat eyes.
Cold Mountain Temple, outside Gusu's bounds:
The midnight bell cuts off soft water sounds.
The great road has no gate.
It leaps out from the heads of all of you.
The sky has no road.
It enters into my nostrils.
In this way we meet as Gautama's bandits,
or Linji's troublemakers. Ha!
Great houses tumble down and spring wind swirls.
Astonished, apricot blossoms fly and scatter -- red.
Translated by Mel Weitsman and Kazuaki Tanahashi; printed in: Essential Zen. 1994. HarperSanFrancisco, p. 136.
Note: While Rujing was Chinese he was teacher to the prominent Japanese Zen Teacher, Dōgen Zenji, the latter published this and other poems, hence the dual categorization of it as Chinese and Japanese Literature.
I remember viewing the West Lake
While leaning on a pagoda rail.
The boats all clustered in threes or twos.
The islets under deep Autumn blues.
Flute song arose from among the cattails.
And a line of white birds - overhead - sailed.
I planned to fix my old fishing pole,
but clouds on water had my mind & soul.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 