Old trees with tangled hanging tassels
by a deserted temple open to the river.
Rain, rain threw down the clay statues
and wind blew down this ancient building.
Wild birds nest in dusty shrines,
fishermen hold a bamboo lottery cup.
About to play the tune "Mountain Ghost," I stop:
the Verses of Chu make me too sad.
Translation: Barnstone, Tony and Ping, Chou. 2005. The Anchor Book of Chinese Poetry: From Ancient to Contemporary. New York: Anchor Books.
the sound of rain
and thundering waterfalls:
a cat sleeps soundly.
a tiny frog
on a rain-soaked leaf,
washed away, leaf-n-all.
Sound of water cascading over rock.
A silent mountain in the night.
Bright moonlight washes over the pines.
One thousand peaks, all in one color.
water lilies stand
confidently, while herons
step warily.
"Thou art a fool," said my head to my heart,
"Indeed, the greatest of fools thou art,
To be led astray by the trick of a tress,
By a smiling face or a ribbon smart;"
And my heart was in sore distress.
Then Phyllis came by, and her face was fair,
The light gleamed soft on her raven hair;
And her lips were blooming a rosy red.
Then my heart spoke out with a right bold air:
"Thou art worse than a fool, O head!"
perching hornbill:
a plodding half-ton bovine
doesn't merit attention.
Standing on the bank,
Looking at the other shore --
A hundred meters or a mile?
Does it matter,
In such a fast flow?
If I were to swim for it,
Launching myself into
Those cold, choppy waves,
Which would I reach first:
The other shore, or
The Falls, downstream?
In the face of heavy morning cloud again
And drizzling evening rain,
Leaning on each other, rugged the hills remain.
The Gorge of Witch and lofty peaks
Lock in the Southern Palace rosy cheeks.
In spring the halberds move in force,
Maids in fair dress welcome heroes on horse,
To the riverside town they go only.
I come to the wasteland a thousand miles away,
With my shadow so lonely.
How can I become cheerful and gay?
It is said the Southern land is so high,
It nearly scrapes the sky.
To the capital I stretch my eye,
I see but misty water far and nigh.
When I drank in the hall,
My friends were talents all.
Songstresses sang with rosy face
And dancers danced with grace,
Drunk, they intoxicated the place.
Hearing the cuckoo's home-going song
All the night long,
Could I resist my yearning strong?
Translation: Xu Yuanchong [translator]. 2021. Deep, Deep the Courtyard. [庭院深深.] Cite Publishing: Kuala Lumpur, pp. 191-192.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 