After dark —-
A city park —-
There runs the thing
That comes to life
By night.
Caged in stillness
Through sunlit hours.
Its night persona
Is blurred movement
Seen only from the
Corner of an eye.
It stays near deep shadow,
Beyond the lamp lit arcs.
Where is it?
No one knows,
But if one were to
Check the cathedral
Spire, you’d find
Only an impenetrable
Void…
until sunup.
Low, warm light lands on the village.
Cattle and sheep trapsing farmward.
Farmer mulls a missing shepherd,
Leaning on his staff, still on guard.
Pheasants cluck, wheat heads are heavy,
Silkworms dormant, mulberry leaves few.
Farmers stand, hoes on their shoulders,
Telling old tales, as if they were new.
How I envy the idle time --
To chat about mankind's decline.
This is poem #16 of the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首.] The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
斜光照墟落， 穷巷牛羊归。
野老念牧童， 倚杖候荆扉。
雉雊麦苗秀， 蚕眠桑叶稀。
田夫荷锄立， 相见语依依。
即此羡闲逸， 怅然吟式微。
mid-summer:
a stream trickles through boulders
once dragged by floods.
In the cloud-grey mornings
I heard the herons flying;
And when I came into my garden,
My silken outer-garment
Trailed over withered leaves.
A dried leaf crumbles at a touch,
But I have seen many Autumns
With herons blowing like smoke
Across the sky.
A clear stream passes by the
mountain clad in green;
The clear sky and clear water
melt in autumn hue.
Far far away from the tumultuous
world unclean,
Long long will white clouds and
red leaves be friend to you.
Note: This is the joint translation of Xu Yuanchong and Xu Ming found in the edition of Golden Treasury of Quatrains and Octaves on which they collaborated (i.e. China Publishing Group: Beijing (2008) p. 64.)
Adieu, adieu! my native shore
Fades o'ver the waters blue;
The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,
And shrieks the wild sea-mew.
Yon sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and thee,
My native Land-Good Night!
A few short hours, and he will rise
To give the morrow birth;
And I shall hail the main and skies,
But not my mother earth.
Deserted is my own good hall,
Its hearth is desolate;
Wild weeds are gathering on the wall;
My dog howls at the gate.
bright flowers
dance in a breeze,
beside the castle wall.
I read the space
Around the poem.
It has no meaning,
But says so much.
It betrays a little secret
That no reader ever learned
Who was too concerned
With what was written,
While wholly inattentive
To
What
Was
Not.
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!
How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!
There once was a wise Daoist Immortal,
Asked the secret to long life, he'd chortle:
"If you can stand masses
Who behave like asses
You're enlightened --
but better off mortal."
Tiger Riding for Beginners 