MY STUFF

Clearing out the clutter
so I can get to
what is no longer there.

"...in this world, where something is always listening, even
murmuring has meaning, as in the next room you moan

in your sleep, turning into late morning. My love, this might be
all we know of forgiveness, this small time when you can forget

what you are. There will come a day when the meadow will think
suddenly, water, root, blossom, through no fault of its own,
and the horses will lie down in daisies and clover. Bedeviled,
human, your plight, in waking, is to choose from the words

that even now sleep on your tongue, and to know that tangled
among them and terribly new is the sentence that could change your life."

     --Marie Howe

WHAT'S YOUR ASKESIS?

A question for all: Of the many and disparate claims to ultimate truth, what is the liklihood that the one to which you adhere is THE one? A term sometimes applied to the ritualized life of orthodox Jews is "Innerweltliche Askesis" or "worldly asceticism." If we borrow this notion and regard our various religions and philosophies as different disciplines we impose on ourselves, they need not be so mutually antagonistic--like the Franciscans haven't blown up any Dominican monasteries lately. I read the Dalai Lama's talk on happiness a few years ago and he said that he didn't particularly recommend that people take up Buddhism and abandon a religion they already have. This makes no sense in our usual view of religion. But it makes good sense from the "different disciplines" point of view. This may be wrong. There may be an ultimate truth and THE ultimate truth may be YOUR ultimate truth. But there is a way of being in the world that makes it easier to live together.

CLASSICAL CHINESE POEMS--MY TRANSLATIONS TO ENGLISH

Saying Goodbye on the Plain of Ancient Ruins

Grasses growing lush on the plain

year after year wither and flourish.

No wildfire can consume them all.

In winds of spring they grow again.

Their bright green reaches the far ruined wall.

Their fragrance flows over the ancient road.

Once again we say goodbye here,

a place lush with feelings of parting.

     --Bai Juyi

A Poem of the Evening River

A ray of late sun lies across the water.
Half the emerald river is ruby red.
On this third night of the ninth month
dewdrops are pearls, the moon a bow.
     --Bai Juyi

In the Hills, a Plum Tree Flowers in a Small Garden

Blossoms all have shaken down, and alone

it casts a warm beauty over the garden,

whose slender shadows lie on shallow ponds.

A faint fragrance drifts under a dun moon.

Snowbirds, landing, look again, to see

what dusty butterflies would faint to know.

Lucky me, making friends with whispered verse—

who needs golden goblets or rhythm sticks?

--Liu Bu

Meeting is hard and parting is harder.

The east wind slackens and flowers wither.

The spring silk worm spins silk till it dies.

The wax candle sheds tears till it's ash.

Morning mirror, fretting over disordered hair.

Midnight chanting, not feeling the cold.

Penglai, the faerie mountain, is somewhere near.

Bluebird, would you spy it out for me.

     --Li Shanglin

POEMS FOR SOMEONE


I.

Your coming was an empty promise.
     Your going was without a trace.
At the fifth bell,
     moonlight slanted across the tower
as I wakened from despairing dreams,
     my cries not calling you back.
These pale words, this hasty letter,
     written before the ink could thicken.
One candle lights half the quilt
     with the kingfisher in a golden cage.
A faint scent of musk
     lingers on the embroidered lotus curtain.
Young Master Liu
     raged at the distance to the faerie hill.
But you are ten thousand mountains,
     ten thousand ranges farther.

          --Li Shangyin

    Sailing into South Lake

South Lake is the sum of three rivers.

Mount Lu is the master of all hills.

White sand cleans the river course.

Green pines color the crag heads.

When did the water begin to flow?

When did the mountain begin to be?

Human fate is ever changing.

These forms are alone enduring.

In all the near and far of the cosmos,

present becomes past; this order lasts.

    --Chang Fangsheng

    The Cicada

In the first place,

however refined you are

and able to live on wind and dew,

they will never satisfy your hunger.

So why keep up your bitter cry?

By the fifth hour

your voice is weak and hoarse

in the green, indifferent tree.

I'm just a minor functionary,

a drifting twig.

And the old fields at home

lie wasted and full of weeds.

So thank you for reminding me

that my family has a long history

of pure character.

--Li Shangyin

    Thoughts in the Cold

My guests have all gone,

the river rises to my doorstep,

cicadas cease whirring,

branches fill with dew:

a time when you fill my heart,

the time that passes while I stand

still beneath the Big Dipper,

more distant than spring.

Here beyond the edge

of your Nanjing sky

no messenger comes.

I am left with only

my dreams to divine

if you've found a new friend.

--Li Shangyin

	疑 誤 有 新 知	天 涯 占 夢 數	南 陵 寓 使 遲	北 斗 兼 春 遠	倚 立 自 移 時	永 懷 當 此 節	蟬 休 露 滿 枝	客 去 波 平 檻	涼 思

    The Spring Song of Lady Night

The spring woods

hold flowers of great beauty.

The spring birds

cause thoughts of great grief.

The spring breeze has also great feeling,

blowing open

my gauzy silk skirt.

--Anon., 300-600 C.E.

Lost, a whole army,

        before the gates of a city,

the year before last

        fighting the Yuezhi.

Lost, the torn, scattered tents,

        with no one to collect them.

There were only the tattered banners

        on horses straggling back.

Lost, any news of you,

        along the way from Tibet.

What offerings can I make

        if your fate is unknown?  

Lost, you and I to each other,

        whether or not you still live.

I offer these tears

        from far, far away.

          --Zhang Ji

This road here runs

     up to white clouds.

Spring is as long

     as the clear stream.

At times fallen petals

     float by,

flowing off

     on scented water.

My door idles

     on the mountain path.

My study's deep

     in willow shade;

my sleeves, sunlit

     on sunny days.

       --Liu Shenxu

    Autumn Song of Lady Night

Opening the window

to the autumn moon,

she puts out the candle,

slipping off her silk skirt.

And suppressing a smile

within the curtained bed,

she arches her body,

spreading orchid fragrance

    --Anon.

    Playing the Zheng for General Zhou

While playing the zheng

with millet-gold posts,

her fair hands moving

over the jade frame,

hoping that Zhou Yu

will turn and look,

every so often

she plucks the wrong note.

--Li Duan

She, who was in her rooms without sorrow,

turned out for spring, ascends the jade tower,

and, struck by a willow green in the field,

sighs for sending him off to seek titles.

--Wang Chiang-ling




Climbing Stork Tower

White sun sets against the mountains.
Yellow River flows to the sea.
Go up one more story
and see out a thousand li.
     --Wang Zhihuan

Grasses grow rank around Red Bird Bridge.

Sun sets in the street of mansions.

Swallows from peeling painted eaves

swoop across the doorways of common folk.

--Liu Yuxi

DRINKING ALONE

Wind blows snow straight across the window.

Curl around the stove, open the wine,

and, as a fishing boat in the rain,

Sail asleep down the autumn river. 

      --Du Mu

On the Qinhuai River

With moonlight on sand and mist on cold water,

I tie up by a tavern on the river.

I hear a girl sing, with nothing of his grief,

the captive king's "Blossom of the Inner Court."

--Du Mu

終南望餘雪

祖詠

終(Zhong/End)南(Nan/South)陰(Shade/Lunar)嶺(Peak)秀(fine/beautiful)，

積(Store up/Accumulate)雪(Snow)浮(float)雲(Cloud)端(end/top)。

林(Forest)表(show/reveal)明(Bright)霽(sky blue/clearing)色(Color)，

城(City)中(Inside)增(increase)暮(Sunset)寒(Cold)。

陰嶺: Combination of character means North of a Hill

林表 Combination of character means tips of tree

      --word-for-word tr. Laijan Liu

On Seeing the Snow-Peak of Zhongnan Mountain

Beautiful, the north face of Zhongnan's peak,

piled-up snow above the floating clouds,

bright blue sky shining through the tree tops.

The city below colder with sunset.

     --Zu Young 

Number 14 of the 19 Music Bureau Poems

Gone and daily receding,

coming and daily more near.

Looking straight out the city gate:

mounds and hills, mounds and hills.

Ancient graves are plowed into fields.

Pine and cypress destroyed for kindling.

Winds of sorrow out of white poplars,

the swishing sound of the axe men.

Dwelling on returning home--

no track, no trace of a road.

No way there from this longing.

TO A JAPANESE MONK RETURNING HOME

Destined to come seeking the source in China.

Your voyage here was like a dream of distance,

floating between heaven and the vast green sea.

Now, the vessel goes lightly that carries the Way.

Water and moon are solitary as your Zen.

Fish and dragons absorb the sound of your chanting.

The single lamp of your compassion, its light

returns to watchers at the heart of the world.

     --Qian Qi


送僧歸日本
上國隨緣住， 來途若夢行。
浮天滄海遠， 去世法舟輕。
水月通禪寂， 魚龍聽梵聲。
惟憐一燈影， 萬里眼中明。