This wind will weave The cry of howling thievesAs calming rain Unfolds on golden grain A thousand sheaves A million fallen leavesAnd still these plains Will fill with bamboo canes Copyright (c) 2016 by Frank Watson. Loosely translated from Lu Shiheng’s “花落.”
Read MoreAnchored at Jiande River
Meng Haoran This anchored boat’s astir in fog and breeze,As sunset rends my fears up once again,But as the sky descends beneath the trees,The river, moon, and quiet become my friends. Chinese Pronunciation 宿建德江 Sù jiàn dé jiāng 移舟泊煙渚， Yí zhōu …
Read MoreA Country Road
The moon has shadowed me, like stillborn air Along a country road, adrift in threads, Behind a worn out wheel, the pedals bare, As time leaves nothing here but cast off dead. I share these words with clouds in wind-washed treads, Where rock-strewn shores in …
Read MoreLullaby
Meandering above the asphalt streets, The autumn moon lights vendor stalls; From dawn to dusk the city beats A song beyond Manhattan’s walls. Across this land the Rocky Mountains Conceal the trees and western sand, But here another day begins, Anxieties and troubles at hand. …
Read MoreFarmer
A poor man on a tiny plot Imagines beyond the forest green; No words of the wise can mend his lot, He bears the burden as if a dream. He plants his field and tends for autumn, Singing a song of the land he sows, …
Read MoreGazing at the Snow Peak of Zhongnan
Above the mountain dark and deepThe snow clouds form a floating quill;But though these woods are clear and bright,Inside the town I feel it chill. Chinese Pronunciation 終南望餘雪 Zhōng Nán Wàng Yú Xuě 終南陰嶺秀， Zhōng nán yīn lǐng xiù ， 積雪浮雲端。 …
Read MoreBamboo Retreat
Alone, I sit serene within a bamboo grove,At ease, I strum the lute and hum a song.Unknown into the forest deep I’ll roveUntil the shining moon has sung along. Chinese 竹里館 獨坐幽篁裡，彈琴復長嘯。深林人不知，明月來相照。 Pronunciation Zhú Lǐ Guǎn Dú zuò yōu huáng lǐ，Dàn qín fù cháng xiào。Shēn lín rén bù zhī，Míng yuè lái …
Read MoreIdle Spring
Today no toll in work or soulAs spring is green with ease;In Central Park I make my markTo see the cherry trees. A bird lets out its welcome shoutBeneath the building glass;The wind lets bare a woman’s hairIn lovely, flowing mass. I know the moon will come …
Read MoreSpringtime in Central Park
In Central Park the cherries start to bloom This sun-drenched day when birds have left their notes For us, intruders in their sanctuary moats, Unseen but heard where shaded branches loom. I walk a path that’s filled with cut-wood chips, Fine grass and leaves enveloping …
Read MoreMorning Meditation
This morning the sky imparted its willOn spring, on summer, when all aroundIs rain and mist, and darkness still,Distilled for a moment in the river’s sound. These years I’ve buried my head in booksHave come and gone with the green dawn air;Last night I walked by …
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