Window on Chinese Poetry |
Poem 4: Song of the Evening River by Bai Ju Yi Remnants of sun ribbon the river half and half, black river red. Third night, ninth month, lovely hour; pearled dew, bent-bow moon. Adapted from a translation by Matthew Flannery To read my comment on this poem, and the comments of other readers,click HERE |
A few poems to begin with... |
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Poem 5: "The Hard Road" By Li Bai Pure wine costs, for the golden cup, ten thousand coppers a flagon, and a jade plate of dainty food calls for a million coins. I fling aside my chop-sticks and cup: I cannot eat or drink. I pull out my dagger, I peer four ways in vain. I would cross the Yellow River but ice chokes the ferry; I would climb the Tai-Han Mountains, but the sky is blind with snow. I would sit and poise a fishing pole, lazy by a brook. But I suddenly dream of riding a boat, sailing for the sun. Journeying is hard, journeying is hard. There are many turnings. Which am I to follow? I will mount a long wind some day and break the heavy waves and set my cloudy sail straight and bridge the deep, deep sea. Adapted from a translation by Witter Bynner To read my comment on this poem, click HERE |
| Other poems by the five writers represented on this page can be found by using the navigation bars at the top of the page. |
Poem 3: "Advent of Spring" by Du Fu The city has fallen: only the hills and rivers remain. In spring the streets were green with grass and trees. Sorrowing over the times, the flowers are weeping. The birds startled my heart in fear of departing. The beacon fires were burning for three months. A letter from home was worth ten thousand pieces of gold. I scratch the scant hairs on my white head, and vainly attempt to secure them with a hairpin. Adapted from a translation by David Lunde To read my comment on this poem, and the comments of other readers, click HERE |
Poem 2: "To a friend" by Wang Wei You have just returned from my home town, and should know what is happening there; when you came, had the winter plum tree before my latticed window blossomed yet? To read my comment on this poem and comments by other readers, click HERE |
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Poem 1: A Sigh in the Court of Perpetual Faith by Wang Changling She brings a broom at dawn to the Golden Palace doorway and dusts the hall from end to end with her round fan, and, for all her jade-whiteness, she envies a crow whose cold wings are kindled in the Court of the Bright Sun. Adapted from a translation by Witter Bynner |
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