There is a finished feeling
Experienced at Graves—
A leisure of the Future—
A Wilderness of Size.
By Death’s bold Exhibition
Preciser what we are
And the Eternal function
Enabled to infer.
I'll tell you a plan for gaining wealth,
Better than banking, trade or leases —
Take a bank note and fold it up,
And then you will find your money in creases!
This wonderful plan, without danger or loss,
Keeps your cash in your hands, where nothing can trouble it;
And every time that you fold it across,
'Tis as plain as the light of the day that you double it!
Trees are wagging,
Whipping, and waving
That were still but
A moment ago.
Dark clouds snuck in
With pattering rain,
But, oh, how those
Foul winds do blow!
The earth has many keys,
Where melody is not
Is the unknown peninsula.
Beauty is nature's fact.
But witness for her land,
And witness for her sea,
The cricket is her utmost
Of elegy to me.
When I compare
What I have lost with what I have gained,
What I have missed with what attained,
Little room do I find for pride.
I am aware
How many days have been idly spent;
How like an arrow the good intent
Has fallen short or been turned aside.
But who shall dare
To measure loss and gain in this wise?
Defeat may be victory in disguise;
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.
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 voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.
A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn --
A flask of Dew -- A Bee or two --
A Breeze -- a caper in the trees --
And I'm a Rose!
Now close the windows and hush all the fields;
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.
It will be long ere the marshes resume,
It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.
On this wondrous sea
Sailing silently,
Ho! Pilot, ho!
Knowest thou the shore
Where no breakers roar --
Where the storm is o'er?
In the peaceful west
Many the sails at rest --
The anchors fast --
Thither I pilot thee --
Land Ho! Eternity!
Ashore at last!
Tiger Riding for Beginners 