Chinese poet (701-762)
No one understands now. Those who could
hear a song this deeply vanished long ago.
LI BAI
"Listening to Lu Tzu-Hsun Play the Ch'in on a Moonlit Night"
Yonder the mountain flowers are out.
We drink together, you and I.
One more cup--one more cup--still one more cup!
Now I am drunk and drowsy, you had better go.
But come tomorrow morning, if you will, with the harp!
LI BAI
"With a Man of Leisure"
A lovely woman rolls up
The delicate bamboo blind.
She sits deep within,
Twitching her moth eyebrows.
Who may it be
That grieves her heart?
On her face one sees
Only the wet traces of tears.
LI BAI
"The Night of Sorrow"
She is the flowering branch of the peony,
Richly-laden with honey-dew.
Hers is the charm of the vanished fairy,
That broke the heart of the dreamer king
In the old legend of the Cloud and Rain.
Pray, who in the palace of Han
Could be likened unto her,
Save the lady, Flying Swallow, newly-dressed
In all her loveliness?
LI BAI
"Lady Yang Kuei-Fei at the Imperial Feast of the Peony"
I can't tell anymore. Which is long and which short,
the river flowing east or thoughts farewell brings on?
LI BAI
"Avoiding Farewell in a Chin-Ling Wineshop"
What of me after parting? I know not--
I'll go back, perhaps, to my old fishing rock on the beach.
LI BAI
"At a River Town"
Blue is the water and clear the moon.
He is out on the South Lake,
Gathering white lilies.
The lotus flowers seem to whisper love,
And fill the boatman's heart with sadness.
LI BAI
"The Blue Water"
Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
When the green pines feel the coming of spring.
Looking back, I sigh; looking before, I sigh again.
What is there to prize in the life's vaporous glory?
LI BAI
"The Old Dust"
Whoever looks on this,
Loses himself in eternity;
And entering the sacrid mountains of Sung,
He will dream among the resplendent clouds.
LI BAI
"On a Picture Screen"
O wind of spring, you are a stranger,
Why do you enter through the silken curtains of my bower?
LI BAI
"The Intruder"
The autumn moon is half round above the Yo-mei Mountain;
Its pale light falls in and flows with the water of the Ping-chiang River.
Tonight I leave Ching-chi of the limpid stream for the Three Canyons,
And I glide past Yu-chow, thinking of you whom I cannot see.
LI BAI
"The Yo-Mei Mountain Moon"
My ship is built of spice-wood and has a rudder of mulan;
Musicians sit at the two ends with jeweled bamboo flutes
and pipes of gold. What a pleasure it is, with a cask of sweet wine
And singing girls beside me,
To drift on the water hither and thither with the waves!
I am happier than the fairy of the air, who rode on his yellow crane.
And free as the merman who followed the sea-gulls aimlessly.
Now with the strokes of my inspired pen I shake the
Five Mountains. My poem is done, I laugh and my delight is vaster than the sea.
Oh, deathless poetry! The songs of Chu-ping are ever glorious as the sun and moon,
While the palaces and towers of the Chu kings have vanished from the hills.
Yea, if worldly fame and riches were things to last forever,
The waters of the River Han would flow north-westward, too.
LI BAI
"On the Ship of Spice-Wood"