Poets From China

"Li Po is China's prince of vagabond poets, with his drink, his dread of officialdom, his companionship with the moon, his love of high mountain scenery, and his constant aspiration: "Oh, could I but hold a celestial sword / And stab a whale across the seas!" Li Po's romanticism ended finally in his death from reaching for the shadow of the moon in the water in a drunken fit and falling overboard. Good, infinitely good, that the staid and apparently unfeeling Chinese could sometimes reach for the shadow of the moon and die such a poetic death!"

"處世若大夢，胡爲勞其生？"

"且樂生前一杯酒，何須身後千載名。"

"Li Po's style is swift, yet never careless; lively, yet never informal. But his intellectual outlook was low and sordid. In nine poems out of ten he deals with nothing but wine or women."

"长风破浪会有时， 直挂云帆济沧海。"

"蜀道之难，难于上青天！"

"朝辞白帝彩云间，千里江陵一日还。 两岸猿声啼不住，轻舟已过万重山。"

"The world acclaims Li Po as its master poet. I grant that his works show unparalleled talent and originality, but not one in ten contains any moral reflection or deeper meaning."

"問余何意棲碧山，笑而不答心自閒。 桃花流水窅然去，別有天地非人間。"

"君不见，黄河之水天上来，奔流到海不复回。"

"From the walls of Baidi high in the colored dawn To Jiangling by night-fall is three hundred miles, Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me To my boat these ten thousand mountains away."

"對酒不覺暝，落花盈我衣。"

"床前明月光，疑是地上霜。 舉頭望明月，低頭思故鄉。"

"云想衣裳花想容，春风拂槛露华浓。 若非群玉山头见，会向瑶台月下逢。"

"All the birds have flown up and gone; A lonely cloud floats leisurely by. We never tire of looking at each other— Only the mountain and I."

"花間一壺酒，獨酌無相親。 舉杯邀明月，對影成三人。 月既不解飲，影徒隨我身。 暫伴月將影，行樂須及春。 我歌月徘徊，我舞影零亂。 醒時同交歡，醉後各分散。 永結無情遊，相期邈雲漢。"

"飛流直下三千尺，疑是銀河落九天。"

"镜湖三百里，菡萏发荷花。 五月西施采，人看隘若耶。 回舟不待月，归去越王家。"

"危楼高百尺，手可摘星辰。 不敢高声语，恐惊天上人。"

"With a bronze mirror, one can see whether he is properly attired; with history as a mirror, one can understand the rise and fall of a nation; with men as a mirror, one can see whether he is right or wrong. Now I've lost my faithful mirror by the death of Weizheng."

"「知错改错，不认错。」"

"「宁可我负天下人，休叫天下人负我。」"

"「兵不在多在精，将不在猛在某」"

"「寧我負人，毋人負我！」"

"「吾任天下之智力，以道御之，無所不可．」"

"「彼各為其主，勿追也。」"

"I brewed potions in a vain search for life everlasting, I read books, I sang songs of history, And today I've come home to Cold Mountain To pillow my head on the stream and wash my ears."

"People ask the way to Cold Mountain. Cold Mountain? There is no road that goes through. Even in summer the ice doesn't melt; Though the sun comes out, the fog is blinding. How can you hope to get there by aping me? Your heart and mine are not alike. If your heart were the same as mine, Then you could journey to the very center!"

"If you're looking for a place to rest Cold Mountain is good for a long stay The breeze blowing through the dark pines Sounds better the closer you come And under the trees a white haired man Mumbles over his Taoist texts Ten years now he hasn't gone home He's even forgotten the road he came by"

"As for me, I delight in the every day Way Among mist-wrapped vines and rocky caves Here in the wilderness I am completely free With my friends, the white clouds, idling forever There are roads, but they do not reach the world Since I am mindless, who can rouse my thoughts On a bed of stone I sit, alone in the night While a round moon climbs up Cold Mountain"

"I divined and chose a distant place to dwell T'ien T'ai: what more is there to say? Monkeys cry where valley mists are cold My grass gate blends with the color of the crags I pick leaves to thatch a hut among the pines Scoop out a pond and lead a runnel from the spring By now I am used to doing without the world Picking ferns I pass the years that are left"

"Story on Story of wonderful hills and streams Their blue-green haze locked in clouds! Mists brush my thin cap with moisture Dew wets my coat of plaited straw On my feet I wear pilgrim's sandals My hand holds a stick of old rattan Though I look down again on the dusty world What is that land of dreams to me?"

"Do you have the poems of Han-shan in your house? They're better for you than sutra reading! Write them out and paste them on a screen Where you can glance over them from time to time"

"Old and sick, more than one hundred years Face haggard, hair white, I'm happy to still live in the mountains A cloth covered phantom watching the years flow by Why envy people with clever ways of living?"

"I sit cross-legged on the rock The valleys and streams are cold and damp Sitting quietly is beautiful The cliffs are lost in mist and fog I rest happily in this place At dusk the tree shadows are low I look into my mind A white lotus emerges from the dark mud"

"Do I have a body? Or have I none? Am I who I am? Or am I not? Pondering these questions, I sit Leaning against the cliff while the years go by And the green grass grows up between my feet And the red dust settles on my head Then men of the world come and thinking me dead Bring offerings of wine and fruit"

"If you want a peaceful place to dwell Cold Mountain is guaranteed forever A light wind blows softly in the pines The sound is good when you are close One old man sits beneath the trees Reading Lao Tzu and Huang Ti, mumbling I could not find the world if I searched ten years I've forgotten the road by which I came"

"Someone sits in a mountain vale A robe of clouds, rainbows for tassels The fragrant forest is the place to live The road has been long and difficult With a heart full of doubt and regret A life has passed and nothing has been accomplished Others call it failure I stand alone devoted to this Cold Mountain life"

"The higher the trail the steeper it grows Ten thousand tiers of dangerous cliffs The stone bridge is slippery with green moss Cloud after cloud keeps flying by Waterfalls hang like ribbons of silk The moon shines down on the bright pool I climb the highest peak once more To wait where the lone crane flies"

"If your house has Cold Mountain poems They are better for you than sutras Hang them up where you can see them Read them and read them again"

"Worry for others— it does no good in the end. The great Dao, all amid joy, is reborn. In a joyous state, ruler and subject accord, In a joyous home, father and son get along. If brothers increase their joy, the world will flourish. If husband and wife have joy, it's worthy of song. What guest and host can bear a lack of joy? Both high and low, in joy, lose their woe before long. Ha ha ha."

"Cold Mountain cold Ice freezes rock Mountains are green Snow is white Sun shines bright Every thing melt Every thing warm Warms old man"

"Tiers of mountains Cold wind feet Not need fan Ice cold through Moon shines bright Mist covers everything Sit all alone One old man"

"Cold Mountain Son Forever not change I live alone Beyond life death"

"People ask the way to Cold Mountain Roads do not go through Summer arrives yet the ice has not melted Though the sun is out it's foggy and dim How did I arrive here? My mind and yours are not the same When our minds are one You will be here too"

"Since I retired to Cold Mountain I've lived by eating mountain fruits What is there to worry about? Life passes according to karma The months pass like a flowing stream Days and nights like sparks from flint Heaven and earth endlessly change While I sit happily among these cliffs"

"When people look for the road in the clouds The cloud road disappears The mountains are tall and steep The streams are wide and still Green mountains ahead and behind White clouds to east and west If you want to find the cloud road Seek it within"

"Often sit alone happy happy Thoughts somewhat far gone gone Clouds circle mountain soft soft Wind through valley swish swish Ape in tree bounce bounce Bird in forest chirp chirp Time turns hair gray gray Winter is here sad sad"

"Tier on tier of beautiful mountains and streams Blue green vistas locked in white clouds The mist makes my bandana wet Dew coats my grass cape My feet climb in straw sandals My hand holds an old wooden stick When I gaze down again on the dusty world It has become a land of phantoms and dreams to me"

"I love the joy of mountains Wandering free with no concerns Every day I find food for this old body There's leisure for thinking, nothing to do Often I carry an ancient book Sometimes I climb a rock pavilion To look down a thousand foot precipice Overhead are swirling clouds A cold moon chilly cold My body feels like a flying crane"