 | The works of Li Po, the Chinese poet |  |
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[OMITTED]
89. TO HIS FRIEND AT CHIANG-HSIA
When the brazen Tartars came with their frightened
horses kicking up dust and sand,
While the Tartar horde watered their horses in the Tien-chin River,
You, governor of Chang-yeh, then, resided near Wine Spring;
I, banished nine thousand li, was in the land of Pa.
While the Tartar horde watered their horses in the Tien-chin River,
You, governor of Chang-yeh, then, resided near Wine Spring;
I, banished nine thousand li, was in the land of Pa.
When the world was put to order, and the laws made
lenient,
I, an Yeh-lang exile, stricken with the chilly frost,
How I longed for my friend in the west whom I could not see.
Only the east wind bore my dream back to Chang-an.
I, an Yeh-lang exile, stricken with the chilly frost,
How I longed for my friend in the west whom I could not see.
Only the east wind bore my dream back to Chang-an.
What a chance that I met you in this place!
In joy and bewilderment I felt like one fallen from the cloud.
And amid the noise of pipes and flutes at the joyous feast
I endeavored in vain to utter long sentences.
In joy and bewilderment I felt like one fallen from the cloud.
And amid the noise of pipes and flutes at the joyous feast
I endeavored in vain to utter long sentences.
Yesterday, clad in a brocade robe, I poured the costly
wine.
To-day, sore-afflicted, I am dumb like the speechless trees.
Once I rode on horseback in the great imperial park;
Now I jog about slowly from house to house of mandarins.
At Nan-ping I met the governor and opened my heart;
Now with you I may hold sweet conversation.
Even as the leagues of cloud melt above the mountain,
Opening the view of the blue sky around, so melts my grief.
To-day, sore-afflicted, I am dumb like the speechless trees.
Once I rode on horseback in the great imperial park;
Now I jog about slowly from house to house of mandarins.
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Now with you I may hold sweet conversation.
Even as the leagues of cloud melt above the mountain,
Opening the view of the blue sky around, so melts my grief.
Oh, grief! Oh, bitter pain, and pain evermore!
Sorrowing, I drink two thousand jugs of wine—
The cold ashes are warm again, and the spring is born.
And you, jolly wise host without compare,
Drunken, you go about, riding on the back of a mule.
Sorrowing, I drink two thousand jugs of wine—
The cold ashes are warm again, and the spring is born.
And you, jolly wise host without compare,
Drunken, you go about, riding on the back of a mule.
In the cloister yonder under clouds and the moon there
are monks galore.
But the mountains and waters—did they ever cater to man's desires?
Ah, no! Better blow your reed pipes, beat your drums, and wanton on the river water.
Call forth the young girls of the south and bid them sing the boat songs!
But the mountains and waters—did they ever cater to man's desires?
Ah, no! Better blow your reed pipes, beat your drums, and wanton on the river water.
Call forth the young girls of the south and bid them sing the boat songs!
I will knock down the Yellow Crane House for you with
a hammer,
You may upset the Parrot Island, too, for my sake.
The heroic battle of the Red Walls was fought as in a dream—
Let me sing and dance and lighten the sorrow of separation!
You may upset the Parrot Island, too, for my sake.
The heroic battle of the Red Walls was fought as in a dream—
Let me sing and dance and lighten the sorrow of separation!
| The works of Li Po, the Chinese poet | |