Written to the Rhyme of Yellow Stork Tower
by Cui Hao of Tang Dynasty
The poet also gone with the yellow stork,
Leaving behind his poem of Yellow Stork Tower.
He’d gone and never returned like the yellow stork,
The clouds floating freely for another thousand years.
People came and went, but the tower is still there
Flowers bloom and fall, yet they fill the shoal
Don’t fail to live up to Spring, and get drunk.
How much sorrow there’d have been from olden time till now?
I take a spaceship on a voyage, bringing wine
Invite you to the Celestial River, chanting poems
Without gravity, we are able to jump at will
The unmoored ship can float freely everywhere
Watching the universe from afar----stars sparkling in deep darkness
Glancing back to the Earth----it’s soft bright blue
Don’t sigh, Cowboy, for the broken Magpie Bridge
I’ll take you in my ship to cross the river
On an old tree in the village returned crows cawing;
The swallows are back to respective homes in the evening.
The old green is interlocked with the new green on the boughs;
The red flowers mingling with the purple ones by the fence.
The first poem:
The seagulls above the water are free of care
Following the sailing ships with spreading wings
They are not fearful of billows
Nor afraid of heavy storms
They fly up and down in the vast sky
And travel far and near over the boundless sea
Whenever it is a fine day
They will hover freely and leisurely.
The second poem:
The gale brings heavy rains with it
The billows surge like a chain of hills
The dark clouds dim the sea and sky
Fishes and ships all hidden somewhere
Please look at the seagull
Among winds and waves, now visible and now invisible
It can dart far and wide at will across myriad miles
And soar into the vast sky in self pride.
Written to the rhyme of a poem by an old gentleman
Seeking for Spring in vain, I keep wandering,
Despite the crows urging me in twilight.
Where the falling blossoms go?
And the water flows only to the sea.
I wish spring could be here all the year round;
Even if living to a hundred, no bones can avoid turning to ashes
What knitting the eyebrows all day for?
Please, enjoy poetry with a cup of wine.
The green shade begets gusts of coolness,
And gives out gentle rustling melody in moonlit night.
If there always planted a thousand bamboos in the garden,
I can pillow my head, sleeping close by the “gentleman”.
*Ancient Chinese people compared bamboo to gentleman.
At the arbor where willow twigs are snapped*,
The parting tears fill the golden cup.
As you go back a thousand miles away,
I send my love by the white cloud as far.
*In the ancient China arbors as resting places were
built every five miles along the thoroughfares
where people snapped willow twigs to give
to the person leaving as a token of love.
Got the Poem When Resting at the Flying Knoll
Before Fairy-Hidden Temple
Across the creek, a footpath zigzags round the single knoll;
Greener the leaves look as deeper into the forest.
The visitors are less and less at the arbor toward the dusk,
When cool breezes bring resounding bell after bell
A Poem Written at Watching-Fish-by-Flower-Bay in Hangzhou
The lovely sun falls in the center of the lake, being enervated,
Splashing with golden specks in the clear waves.
I love the distant hills, now bright, now dim, as sitting there,
Coveting alone the cool shade under the pine tree.
The wind whips myriad unbridled horses of clouds;
The heaven shoots the silver pellets of raindrops.
When the shower’s gone, the fine sky looks as clear as washed;
The golden disk emerges from the depth of thousand acres of blue.
Raining hard and heavy, looking misty and foggy,
It’s pouring like waterfall with deep muddy poodles below.
Buds after buds fall on the emerald moss,
Green ripples woven on the water surface.
The gutters overflowed and muddy ground slippery,
A time fit to have guests for a feast at home.
Getting drunk with wine when toasting each other,
All are of a generous character, with contented feelings.
The world-renowned panda,
Its home in China, among steep hills.
When hungry, vying for bamboo shoots with phoenix,
At leisure, looking as carefree as a hermit.
It’s so gentle as calm water, but haughty as well,
Its lovely gait looking like a rolling fluffy ball.
Having such small population, but great demand,
That makes it so popular and famous.
The shattered white cloud floats all over the sky;
No pity for it that’s roaming in the wind.
May it sink into the soil as soon as possible,
So as to grow new twigs with green mists around.
Returning from a suburb of Zaohejing alone
The bright moon loves me so as to accompany me home
The fields around so quiet look eerily wide
The sky clear of clouds seems empty and brighter
I doubt it’s true or not what the blind man said
How can I depend on the foretelling of the good fate?
On which day can the complacent spring wind
Carry me over myriad miles to the divine capital?
One:
When a dragon’s lurking in the depth of water,
No one knows it for thousands of years.
Once where the clouds fly up with it,
Frightening thunder rumbles in the jade pond.
Two:
The jealous wind blows strongly,
The swan goose in the sky pulls in its wings.
On which day can it spread its wings in the clouds
To fly to and perch on the peak of Mount Tai?
Four:
It’s astonishing that time gone like water flowing away
So lamenting that years spent without accomplishments
Must seize every chance coming forth at dawn or dusk
So that no grief and sigh for life passed in vain when old
Wealth or poverty is not definitely fated for one
Life or death is unpredictable and undependable
Don’t you see the martyrs from olden time till now
Chanting poems on the guillotine?
I hate sham etiquette by nature in my unusual character
I want to ride on the waves of the blue sea to slay whales
None of my kinsfolk and friends understand me so well
That I have to pour out my feelings to the Providence
But there’s no celestial ladder far onto the heavenly road
And I grieve in vain without means to reach Him
What’s the intention of Heaven to give me life?
Since olden time men of talent died unknown.