I’m stunned by all the starry nights
Beyond the sprawling city’s lights:
Swirls made of so many colors —
The dark, the light, middling others.
What eternal infinite
Exists out there between
All those stars?
All the dust and nothingness
Of that cold, unbounded expanse
Dances in the hot shell
Of my skull.
Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Blest, who can unconcernedly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by the day,
Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
Together mixed; sweet recreation;
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.
I
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
II
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
In the narrow valley
Traversed by a cool stream,
Life is but a pleasant,
And ever shady, dream.
Feet within the waters,
But mind up in the sky,
Nothing can upend one,
Nor kill what cannot die.
On winding pool with willows dim,
At narrow strait the lovebirds swim.
Green duckweeds float,
Barring the lotus-picking boat.
Nor butterflies nor bees
Love fragrance from the withered trees.
When her red petals fall apart,
The lotus bloom 's bitter at heart.
The setting sun greets rising tide,
The floating clouds bring rain.
The swaying lotus seems to confide,
Her sorrow to the poet in vain.
Then she would not be wed to vernal breeze.
What could she do now autumn drives away wild geese?
Translation: Xu Yuanchong [translator]. 2021. Deep, Deep the Courtyard. [庭院深深.] Cite Publishing: Kuala Lumpur, p.226.
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends --
It gives a lovely light!
The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one:
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.
I never saw a moor;
I never saw the sea,
Yet know I how the heather looks
And what a billow be.
I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in heaven.
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the checks were given.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 