the country lay broken, but nature still persists
a city in springtime where grass and trees may flourish
the sight of springflowers leaves me in tears;
disheartened by isolation, passing birds startle me
while a beacon continues burning for months of three.
A letter from home is worth ten thousand taels
and, as I scratch my head I realise now;
my hair is fewer and white; it simply
cannot hold my hairpin any more.
- this is my own translation from the thousands of literal translation found on the Internet.
The bloom is not a bloom,
The mist not mist.
At midnight she comes,
And goes again at dawn.
She comes like a spring dream - how long will she stay?
She goes like morning cloud, without a trace.
The mist not mist.
At midnight she comes,
And goes again at dawn.
She comes like a spring dream - how long will she stay?
She goes like morning cloud, without a trace.
Under Heaven no place hurts the heart the most
than Lao Lao Pavilion, for bidding visitors adieu.
The spring wind tastes the bitterness of parting
and the willow twig shall never be green again*.
- *again, this is my own translation. Part of formal leave-taking was
to snap a willow twig in two, which explains the next poem.
From whose house does the secret jade flute sound
that become lost in the spring air which fills Luoyang?
Amidst the nocturne I recall the snapped willow* -
What man may not feel homesick!
Well, that's it for now. These Chinese poets are amazing and refreshing, really. Use those links to get to the actual poems.