Tag Archives: Lament

Lament 3 [感遇三] by Zhang Jiuling [张九龄] [w/ Audio]

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Alone, the hermit returns home to sleep.
 He's cleansed of cares by way of solitude.
 He gives thanks and praise to the geese on high
 For lifting feelings to grand altitude.
 Day or night, his mind holds no intentions,
 Who can sense his energy, so subdued?
 His flight and submergence self-limited,
 Where can he find calm, and still be renewed?

This is the third poem in 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首] as well as the third of a quartet of poems entitled Gǎn Yù [感遇] that open the collection. The original in Simplified Chinese is:

幽人归独卧， 滞虑洗孤清。
持此谢高鸟， 因之传远情。
日夕怀空意， 人谁感至精？
飞沉理自隔， 何所慰吾诚？

“Lament 2” [感遇二] by Zhang Jiuling [张九龄]

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Verdant orchid leaves of Spring;
   Cassia blooms bright in Autumn;
 Thriving plants, top to bottom.
   Festivals planned by their timings.
 Who knows the forest recluse --
   Pleased with winds and winds with he.
 Plants have stems, branches, and roots
   Why beg a belle to pluck their fruits.

This is poem #2 of the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首,] and is the second in a quartet of poems called 感遇 [Gan Yu.] The original poem in Simplified Chinese goes:

兰叶春葳蕤， 桂华秋皎洁； 
欣欣此生意， 自尔为佳节。 
谁知林栖者， 闻风坐相悦。 
草木有本心， 何求美人折？

“Lament I” [感遇一] by Zhang Jiuling [张九龄]

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A lone goose flies in from the sea,
 Not daring to land in water.
 Glimpsing a pair of Kingfisher --
 Nested Three Pearl Tree squatters --
 It asks, "High up in that rare tree
 Of gold spheres, are you not afraid?
 Fancy clothes incur points and jeers
 And those high up are harshly weighed.
 As I roam dark rivers and hills,
 Envious hunters give me chills."

This is the first of the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首] and it is also the first of a quartet of poems. The original poem in Simplified Chinese:

孤鸿海上来， 池潢不敢顾； 
侧见双翠鸟， 巢在三珠树。 
矫矫珍木巅， 得无金丸惧？ 
美服患人指， 高明逼神恶。 
今我游冥冥， 弋者何所慕？

A Madman’s Lament [Common Meter]

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Sitting naked beside the road,
stripped of all I'd once owned.
I see a flower stare at me,
and recall being stoned.

The painful thumps upon my flesh,
the cracks internal heard,
the racing breath, the anxious feel
as my sight slowly blurred.

What crime is madness, I wonder?
What is it to be free?
A slap to faces of all those
tied to the old birch tree?