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branches ::: Li Bai

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object:Li Bai
object:Li Po
object:Li Bo
subject class:Poetry
class:author

Li Bai--- WIKI
Li Bai (Chinese: ; pinyin: L Bi; Peh-e-j: L Pek, 701762), also known as Li Bo, courtesy name Taibai (Chinese: ), art name Qinglian Jushi (Chinese:
), was a Chinese poet acclaimed from his own day to the present as a genius and a romantic figure who took traditional poetic forms to new heights. He and his friend Du Fu (712770) were the two most prominent figures in the flourishing of Chinese poetry in the Tang dynasty, which is often called the "Golden Age of Chinese Poetry". The expression "Three Wonders" denote Li Bai's poetry, Pei Min's swordplay, and Zhang Xu's calligraphy.




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now begins generated list of local instances, definitions, quotes, instances in chapters, wordnet info if available and instances among weblinks


OBJECT INSTANCES [0] - TOPICS - AUTHORS - BOOKS - CHAPTERS - CLASSES - SEE ALSO - SIMILAR TITLES

TOPICS
SEE ALSO


AUTH

BOOKS
Li_Bai_-_Poems

IN CHAPTERS TITLE

IN CHAPTERS CLASSNAME
1.lb_-_A_Farewell_To_Secretary_Shuyun_At_The_Xietiao_Villa_In_Xuanzhou
1.lb_-_Alone_And_Drinking_Under_The_Moon
1.lb_-_Alone_and_Drinking_Under_the_Moon
1.lb_-_Alone_Looking_At_The_Mountain
1.lb_-_Alone_Looking_at_the_Mountain
1.lb_-_Amidst_the_Flowers_a_Jug_of_Wine
1.lb_-_A_Mountain_Revelry
1.lb_-_Amusing_Myself
1.lb_-_Ancient_Air_(39)
1.lb_-_A_Song_Of_An_Autumn_Midnight
1.lb_-_A_Song_Of_Changgan
1.lb_-_Atop_Green_Mountains_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Autumn_Air
1.lb_-_Autumn_Air_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Autumn_River_Song
1.lb_-_A_Vindication
1.lb_-_Ballads_Of_Four_Seasons:_Spring
1.lb_-_Ballads_Of_Four_Seasons:_Winter
1.lb_-_Bathed_And_Washed
1.lb_-_Bathed_and_Washed
1.lb_-_Before_The_Cask_of_Wine
1.lb_-_Bitter_Love_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Bringing_in_the_Wine
1.lb_-_Changgan_Memories
1.lb_-_Chiang_Chin_Chiu
1.lb_-_Ch'ing_P'ing_Tiao
1.lb_-_Chuang_Tzu_And_The_Butterfly
1.lb_-_Clearing_At_Dawn
1.lb_-_Clearing_at_Dawn
1.lb_-_Climbing_West_Of_Lotus_Flower_Peak
1.lb_-_Climbing_West_of_Lotus_Flower_Peak
1.lb_-_Confessional
1.lb_-_Crows_Calling_At_Night
1.lb_-_Down_From_The_Mountain
1.lb_-_Down_Zhongnan_Mountain
1.lb_-_Drinking_Alone_in_the_Moonlight
1.lb_-_Drinking_in_the_Mountains
1.lb_-_Drinking_With_Someone_In_The_Mountains
1.lb_-_Endless_Yearning_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Exile's_Letter
1.lb_-_[Facing]_Wine
1.lb_-_Facing_Wine
1.lb_-_Farewell
1.lb_-_Farewell_to_Meng_Hao-jan
1.lb_-_Farewell_to_Meng_Hao-jan_at_Yellow_Crane_Tower_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Farewell_to_Secretary_Shu-yun_at_the_Hsieh_Tiao_Villa_in_Hsuan-Chou
1.lb_-_For_Wang_Lun
1.lb_-_For_Wang_Lun_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Gazing_At_The_Cascade_On_Lu_Mountain
1.lb_-_Going_Up_Yoyang_Tower
1.lb_-_Gold_painted_jars_-_wines_worth_a_thousand
1.lb_-_Green_Mountain
1.lb_-_Hard_Is_The_Journey
1.lb_-_Hard_Journey
1.lb_-_Hearing_A_Flute_On_A_Spring_Night_In_Luoyang
1.lb_-_His_Dream_Of_Skyland
1.lb_-_Ho_Chih-chang
1.lb_-_In_Spring
1.lb_-_I_say_drinking
1.lb_-_Jade_Stairs_Grievance
1.lb_-_Lament_for_Mr_Tai
1.lb_-_Lament_of_the_Frontier_Guard
1.lb_-_Lament_On_an_Autumn_Night
1.lb_-_Leave-Taking_Near_Shoku
1.lb_-_Leaving_White_King_City
1.lb_-_Lines_For_A_Taoist_Adept
1.lb_-_Listening_to_a_Flute_in_Yellow_Crane_Pavillion
1.lb_-_Looking_For_A_Monk_And_Not_Finding_Him
1.lb_-_Lu_Mountain,_Kiangsi
1.lb_-_Marble_Stairs_Grievance
1.lb_-_Mng_Hao-jan
1.lb_-_Moon_at_the_Fortified_Pass_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Moon_Over_Mountain_Pass
1.lb_-_Mountain_Drinking_Song
1.lb_-_Nefarious_War
1.lb_-_Old_Poem
1.lb_-_On_A_Picture_Screen
1.lb_-_On_Climbing_In_Nan-King_To_The_Terrace_Of_Phoenixes
1.lb_-_On_Dragon_Hill
1.lb_-_On_Kusu_Terrace
1.lb_-_Poem_by_The_Bridge_at_Ten-Shin
1.lb_-_Question_And_Answer_On_The_Mountain
1.lb_-_Quiet_Night_Thoughts
1.lb_-_Reaching_the_Hermitage
1.lb_-_Remembering_the_Springs_at_Chih-chou
1.lb_-_Resentment_Near_the_Jade_Stairs
1.lb_-_Seeing_Off_Meng_Haoran_For_Guangling_At_Yellow_Crane_Tower
1.lb_-_Self-Abandonment
1.lb_-_She_Spins_Silk
1.lb_-_Sitting_Alone_On_Jingting_Mountain_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Song_of_an_Autumn_Midnight_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Song_of_the_Forge
1.lb_-_Song_Of_The_Jade_Cup
1.lb_-_South-Folk_in_Cold_Country
1.lb_-_Spring_Night_In_Lo-Yang_Hearing_A_Flute
1.lb_-_Staying_The_Night_At_A_Mountain_Temple
1.lb_-_Summer_Day_in_the_Mountains
1.lb_-_Summer_in_the_Mountains
1.lb_-_Taking_Leave_of_a_Friend_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Taking_Leave_of_a_Friend_by_Li_Po_Tr._by_Ezra_Pound
1.lb_-_Talk_in_the_Mountains_[Question_&_Answer_on_the_Mountain]
1.lb_-_The_Ching-Ting_Mountain
1.lb_-_The_City_of_Choan
1.lb_-_The_Cold_Clear_Spring_At_Nanyang
1.lb_-_The_Moon_At_The_Fortified_Pass
1.lb_-_The_Old_Dust
1.lb_-_The_River-Captains_Wife__A_Letter
1.lb_-_The_River-Merchant's_Wife:_A_Letter
1.lb_-_The_River_Song
1.lb_-_The_Roosting_Crows
1.lb_-_The_Solitude_Of_Night
1.lb_-_Thoughts_In_A_Tranquil_Night
1.lb_-_Thoughts_On_a_Quiet_Night_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Thoughts_On_A_Still_Night
1.lb_-_Three_Poems_on_Wine
1.lb_-_Through_The_Yangzi_Gorges
1.lb_-_To_His_Two_Children
1.lb_-_To_My_Wife_on_Lu-shan_Mountain
1.lb_-_To_Tan-Ch'iu
1.lb_-_To_Tu_Fu_from_Shantung
1.lb_-_Viewing_Heaven's_Gate_Mountains
1.lb_-_Visiting_a_Taoist_Master_on_Tai-T'ien_Mountain_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Visiting_A_Taoist_On_Tiatien_Mountain
1.lb_-_Waking_from_Drunken_Sleep_on_a_Spring_Day_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_We_Fought_for_-_South_of_the_Walls
1.lb_-_Yearning
1.lb_-_Ziyi_Song

IN CHAPTERS TEXT
1.lb_-_A_Farewell_To_Secretary_Shuyun_At_The_Xietiao_Villa_In_Xuanzhou
1.lb_-_Alone_And_Drinking_Under_The_Moon
1.lb_-_Alone_and_Drinking_Under_the_Moon
1.lb_-_Alone_Looking_At_The_Mountain
1.lb_-_Alone_Looking_at_the_Mountain
1.lb_-_Amidst_the_Flowers_a_Jug_of_Wine
1.lb_-_A_Mountain_Revelry
1.lb_-_Amusing_Myself
1.lb_-_Ancient_Air_(39)
1.lb_-_A_Song_Of_An_Autumn_Midnight
1.lb_-_A_Song_Of_Changgan
1.lb_-_Atop_Green_Mountains_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Autumn_Air
1.lb_-_Autumn_Air_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Autumn_River_Song
1.lb_-_A_Vindication
1.lb_-_Ballads_Of_Four_Seasons:_Spring
1.lb_-_Ballads_Of_Four_Seasons:_Winter
1.lb_-_Bathed_And_Washed
1.lb_-_Bathed_and_Washed
1.lb_-_Before_The_Cask_of_Wine
1.lb_-_Bitter_Love_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Bringing_in_the_Wine
1.lb_-_Changgan_Memories
1.lb_-_Chiang_Chin_Chiu
1.lb_-_Ch'ing_P'ing_Tiao
1.lb_-_Chuang_Tzu_And_The_Butterfly
1.lb_-_Clearing_At_Dawn
1.lb_-_Clearing_at_Dawn
1.lb_-_Climbing_West_Of_Lotus_Flower_Peak
1.lb_-_Climbing_West_of_Lotus_Flower_Peak
1.lb_-_Confessional
1.lb_-_Crows_Calling_At_Night
1.lb_-_Down_From_The_Mountain
1.lb_-_Down_Zhongnan_Mountain
1.lb_-_Drinking_Alone_in_the_Moonlight
1.lb_-_Drinking_in_the_Mountains
1.lb_-_Drinking_With_Someone_In_The_Mountains
1.lb_-_Endless_Yearning_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Exile's_Letter
1.lb_-_[Facing]_Wine
1.lb_-_Facing_Wine
1.lb_-_Farewell
1.lb_-_Farewell_to_Meng_Hao-jan
1.lb_-_Farewell_to_Meng_Hao-jan_at_Yellow_Crane_Tower_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Farewell_to_Secretary_Shu-yun_at_the_Hsieh_Tiao_Villa_in_Hsuan-Chou
1.lb_-_For_Wang_Lun
1.lb_-_For_Wang_Lun_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Gazing_At_The_Cascade_On_Lu_Mountain
1.lb_-_Going_Up_Yoyang_Tower
1.lb_-_Gold_painted_jars_-_wines_worth_a_thousand
1.lb_-_Green_Mountain
1.lb_-_Hard_Is_The_Journey
1.lb_-_Hard_Journey
1.lb_-_Hearing_A_Flute_On_A_Spring_Night_In_Luoyang
1.lb_-_His_Dream_Of_Skyland
1.lb_-_Ho_Chih-chang
1.lb_-_In_Spring
1.lb_-_I_say_drinking
1.lb_-_Jade_Stairs_Grievance
1.lb_-_Lament_for_Mr_Tai
1.lb_-_Lament_of_the_Frontier_Guard
1.lb_-_Lament_On_an_Autumn_Night
1.lb_-_Leave-Taking_Near_Shoku
1.lb_-_Leaving_White_King_City
1.lb_-_Lines_For_A_Taoist_Adept
1.lb_-_Listening_to_a_Flute_in_Yellow_Crane_Pavillion
1.lb_-_Looking_For_A_Monk_And_Not_Finding_Him
1.lb_-_Lu_Mountain,_Kiangsi
1.lb_-_Marble_Stairs_Grievance
1.lb_-_Mng_Hao-jan
1.lb_-_Moon_at_the_Fortified_Pass_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Moon_Over_Mountain_Pass
1.lb_-_Mountain_Drinking_Song
1.lb_-_Nefarious_War
1.lb_-_Old_Poem
1.lb_-_On_A_Picture_Screen
1.lb_-_On_Climbing_In_Nan-King_To_The_Terrace_Of_Phoenixes
1.lb_-_On_Dragon_Hill
1.lb_-_On_Kusu_Terrace
1.lb_-_Poem_by_The_Bridge_at_Ten-Shin
1.lb_-_Question_And_Answer_On_The_Mountain
1.lb_-_Quiet_Night_Thoughts
1.lb_-_Reaching_the_Hermitage
1.lb_-_Remembering_the_Springs_at_Chih-chou
1.lb_-_Resentment_Near_the_Jade_Stairs
1.lb_-_Seeing_Off_Meng_Haoran_For_Guangling_At_Yellow_Crane_Tower
1.lb_-_Self-Abandonment
1.lb_-_She_Spins_Silk
1.lb_-_Sitting_Alone_On_Jingting_Mountain_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Song_of_an_Autumn_Midnight_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Song_of_the_Forge
1.lb_-_Song_Of_The_Jade_Cup
1.lb_-_South-Folk_in_Cold_Country
1.lb_-_Spring_Night_In_Lo-Yang_Hearing_A_Flute
1.lb_-_Staying_The_Night_At_A_Mountain_Temple
1.lb_-_Summer_Day_in_the_Mountains
1.lb_-_Summer_in_the_Mountains
1.lb_-_Taking_Leave_of_a_Friend_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Taking_Leave_of_a_Friend_by_Li_Po_Tr._by_Ezra_Pound
1.lb_-_Talk_in_the_Mountains_[Question_&_Answer_on_the_Mountain]
1.lb_-_The_Ching-Ting_Mountain
1.lb_-_The_City_of_Choan
1.lb_-_The_Cold_Clear_Spring_At_Nanyang
1.lb_-_The_Moon_At_The_Fortified_Pass
1.lb_-_The_Old_Dust
1.lb_-_The_River-Captains_Wife__A_Letter
1.lb_-_The_River-Merchant's_Wife:_A_Letter
1.lb_-_The_River_Song
1.lb_-_The_Roosting_Crows
1.lb_-_The_Solitude_Of_Night
1.lb_-_Thoughts_In_A_Tranquil_Night
1.lb_-_Thoughts_On_a_Quiet_Night_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Thoughts_On_A_Still_Night
1.lb_-_Three_Poems_on_Wine
1.lb_-_Through_The_Yangzi_Gorges
1.lb_-_To_His_Two_Children
1.lb_-_To_My_Wife_on_Lu-shan_Mountain
1.lb_-_To_Tan-Ch'iu
1.lb_-_To_Tu_Fu_from_Shantung
1.lb_-_Viewing_Heaven's_Gate_Mountains
1.lb_-_Visiting_a_Taoist_Master_on_Tai-T'ien_Mountain_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_Visiting_A_Taoist_On_Tiatien_Mountain
1.lb_-_Waking_from_Drunken_Sleep_on_a_Spring_Day_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_We_Fought_for_-_South_of_the_Walls
1.lb_-_Yearning
1.lb_-_Ziyi_Song

PRIMARY CLASS

author
SIMILAR TITLES
Li Bai
Li Bai - Poems

DEFINITIONS


TERMS STARTING WITH


TERMS ANYWHERE



QUOTES [3 / 3 - 187 / 187]


KEYS (10k)

   3 Li Bai

NEW FULL DB (2.4M)

  182 Li Bai
   3 Du Fu

1:Tomorrow morning, if you think of it, grab your zither and come again." ~ Li Bai, (aka Li Po, 701-762), Chinese poet, Wikipedia.,
2:in all this nothing is without refuge. I alone have nowhere in life to turn. Forever drunk, I face rock-born moon, sing for wildflowers sights and smells." ~ Li Bai, (aka Li Po, 701-762), Chinese poet,
3:Facing wine, I missed night coming on and falling blossoms filling my robe. Drunk, I rise and wade the midstream moon, birds soon gone, and people scarcer still." ~ Li Bai, (aka Li Po, 701-762), Chinese poet, acclaimed from his own day to the present as a genius, Wikipedia.,

*** WISDOM TROVE ***

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:The autumn air is clear, ~ Li Bai,
2:Forever and forever and forever ~ Li Bai,
3:Gently I stir a white feather fan, ~ Li Bai,
4:I bow in reverence to the white cloud. ~ Li Bai,
5:Shade and light are different in every valley. ~ Li Bai,
6:Since Life is but a Dream, Why toil to no avail? ~ Li Bai,
7:In the battlefield men grapple each other and die; ~ Li Bai,
8:You ask why I make my home n the mountain forest, ~ Li Bai,
9:From some home a jade flute sends dark notes drifting, ~ Li Bai,
10:To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring. ~ Li Bai,
11:The living is a passing traveler; The dead, a man come home. ~ Li Bai,
12:Heaven is high, Earth Wide. Bitter between them flies my sorrow. ~ Li Bai,
13:There is another world, other than/ this one we choose to live in. ~ Li Bai,
14:We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains. ~ Li Bai,
15:The world is like a great empty dream. Why should one toil away one's life? ~ Li Bai,
16:When the hunter sets traps only for rabbits, tigers and dragons are left uncaught. ~ Li Bai,
17:No one understands now. Those who could
hear a song this deeply vanished long ago. ~ Li Bai,
18:He who neglects to drink of the spring of experience is likely to die of thirst in the desert of ignorance. ~ Li Bai,
19:The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older. ~ Li Bai,
20:All this is gone forever - events, men. everything slips away, like the ceaseless waves of the Yangtze that vanish into the sea. ~ Li Bai,
21:Das Firmament blaut ewig und die Erde
Wird lange fest stehen und aufblühn im Lenz.
Du aber, Mensch, wie lange lebst denn du? ~ Li Bai,
22:All the birds have flown up and gone; A lonely cloud floats leisurely by. We never tire of looking at each other - Only the mountain and I. ~ Li Bai,
23:The birds have vanished into the sky and now the last cloud drains away. We sit together the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains. ~ Li Bai,
24:The birds have vanished into the sky, and now the last cloud drains away. We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains. ~ Li Bai,
25:If I could rescue one of Li Bai's great poems but 10000000 spiritual slaves had to die in front of me with great violence, I wouldn't even blink. ~ Anonymous,
26:The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.

We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains. ~ Li Bai,
27:Growing older, I love only quietness: who need be concerned with the things of this world? Looking back, what better plan than this: returning to the grove. ~ Li Bai,
28:Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine, No friends at hand, so I poured alone; I raised my cup to invite the moon, Turned to my shadow, and we became three. ~ Li Bai,
29:And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishingboat. ~ Li Bai,
30:It's long since I've gone to the East Mountains.
How many seasons have the tiny roses bloomed?
White clouds - unblown - fall apart.
In whose court has the bright moon dropped? ~ Li Bai,
31:All the birds have flown up and gone;
A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other
Only the mountain and I.

~ Li Bai, Alone Looking At The Mountain
,
32:From the walls of Baidi high in the coloured dawn To Jiangling by night-fall is three hundred miles, Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me To my boat these ten thousand mountains away. ~ Li Bai,
33:In a universe animated by the interaction of yin (female) and yang (male) energies, the moon was literally yin visible. Indeed, it was the very germ or source of yin, and the sun was its yang counterpart. ~ Li Bai,
34:Tangled grasses lie matted with death,
but generals keep at it. And for what?
Isn't it clear that weapons are the tools of misery?
The great sages never waited until the need
for such things arose. ~ Li Bai,
35:You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain; I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care. As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown, I have a world apart that is not among men. ~ Li Bai,
36:You ask why I make my home in the mountain forest,
and I smile, and am silent,
and even my soul remains quiet:
it lives in the other world
which no one owns.
The peach trees blossom,
The water flows. ~ Li Bai,
37:I am asked why I live in the green mountains; I smile but reply not, for my heart is at rest. The flowing waters carry the image of the peach blossoms far, far away; there is an earth, there is a heaven, unknown to men. ~ Li Bai,
38:I lift my goblet to melt away sorrow,
but sorrow continues in sorrow.
Man's life in this world may never find
what satisfies the mind -
Tomorrow at dawn let your hair flow down,
For delight sail off in your tiny boat. ~ Li Bai,
39:My little boat is made of ebony;
My flute stops are pure gold.
Water loosens stains from silk;
Wine loosens sadness from the heart.
With good wine, a graceful boat,
And a sweet girl's love,
Why be jealous of mere gods? ~ Li Bai,
40:Bears, dragons, tempestuous on mountain and river, Startle the forest and make the heights tremble. Clouds darken beneath the darkness of rain, streams pale with a pallor of mist. The gods of Thunder and Lightning Shatter the whole range. ~ Li Bai,
41:You ask me why I dwell
amidst these jade-green hills?
I smile. No words can tell
the stillness in my heart.
Peach blossoms drift streamwater
away deep in mystery.
I live in the other world
one that lies beyond the human. ~ Li Bai,
42:Bears, dragons, tempestuous on mountain and river,
Startle the forest and make the heights tremble.
Clouds darken beneath the darkness of rain,
streams pale with a pallor of mist.
The gods of Thunder and Lightning
Shatter the whole range ~ Li Bai,
43:I sat drinking and did not notice the dusk,
Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress.
Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream;
The birds were gone, and men also few.

Li Po, Translated by: Arthur Waley

~ Li Bai, I say drinking
,
44:FOR WANG LUN

Li Bai is already on the boat, preparing to depart,
I suddenly hear the sound of stamping and singing on the shore.
The water of Taohua pond reaches a thousand feet in depth,
But still it's not as deep as Wang Lun's feelings seeing me off. ~ Li Bai,
45:Before my bed, the moon is shining bright,
I think that it is frost upon the ground.
I raise my head and look at the bright moon,
I lower my head and think of home.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Thoughts On A Still Night
,
46:Now let you and me buy wine today! Why say we have not the price? My horse spotted with five flowers, My fur-coat worth a thousand pieces of gold, These I will take out, and call my boy To barter them for sweet wine. And with you twain, let me forget The sorrow of ten thousand ages! ~ Li Bai,
47:Before my bed
there is bright moonlight
So that it seems
Like frost on the ground:

Lifting my head
I watch the bright moon,
Lowering my head
I dream that I'm home.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Quiet Night Thoughts
,
48:On Marble Stairs
still grows the white dew
That has all night
soaked her silk slippers,

But she lets down
her crystal blind now
And sees through glaze
the moon of autumn.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Marble Stairs Grievance
,
49:Asked why I dwell in these green mountains,
I smile, my heart wordless, give no answer.

A peach blossom swirls faraway downriver;
High above earth, far below heaven, I sit nowhere.

by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Atop Green Mountains by Li Po
,
50:Bathed in fragrance,
do not brush your hat;
Washed in perfume,
do not shake your coat:

Knowing the world
fears what is too pure,
The wisest man
prizes and stores light!

By Bluewater
an old angler sat:
You and I together,
Let us go home.
~ Li Bai, Bathed And Washed
,
51:Drunk on Dragon Hill tonight,
the banished immortal, Great White,

turns among yellow flowers,
his smile wide,

as his hat sails away on the wind
and he dances away in the moonlight.      
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, On Dragon Hill
,
52:To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows,We drained a hundred jugs of wine.A splendid night it was . . . .In the clear moonlight we were loath to go to bed,But at last drunkenness overtook us;And we laid ourselves down on the empty mountain,The earth for pillow, and the great heaven for coverlet ~ Li Bai,
53:The autumn air is clear,
The autumn moon is bright.
Fallen leaves gather and scatter,
The jackdaw perches and starts anew.
We think of each other- when will we meet?
This hour, this night, my feelings are hard.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Autumn Air
,
54:I sat drinking and did not notice the dusk,
Till falling petals filled the folds of my dress.
Drunken I rose and walked to the moonlit stream;
The birds were gone, and men also few.

            
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Self-Abandonment
,
55:A pity it is evening, yet
I do love the water of this spring
seeing how clear it is, how clean;
rays of sunset gleam on it,
lighting up its ripples, making it
one with those who travel
the roads; I turn and face
the moon; sing it a song, then
listen to the sound of the wind
amongst the pines. ~ Li Bai,
56:Green mountains rise to the north;
white water rolls past the eastern city.

Once it has been uprooted,
the tumbleweed travels forever.

Drifting clouds like a wanderer's mind;
sunset, like the heart of your old friend.

We turn, pause, look back and wave,
Even our ponies look back and whine. ~ Li Bai,
57:To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows,
We drained a hundred jugs of wine.
A splendid night it was . . . .
In the clear moonlight we were loath to go to bed,
But at last drunkenness overtook us;
And we laid ourselves down on the empty mountain,
The earth for pillow, and the great heaven for coverlet ~ Li Bai,
58:Chang-an -- one slip of moon;
in ten thousand houses, the sound of fulling mallets.
Autumn winds keep on blowing,
all things make me think of Jade Pass!
When will they put down the barbarians
and my good man come home from his far campaign?
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~ Li Bai, Ziyi Song
,
59: I took leave of you, old friend, at the
Yellow Crane Pavilion;
In the mist and bloom of March, you went
down to Yang-chou:
A lonely sail, distant shades, extinguished by blue
There, at the horizon, where river meets sky.

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~ Li Bai, Farewell to Meng Hao-jan
,
60:The moon shimmers in green water.
White herons fly through the moonlight.

The young man hears a girl gathering water-chestnuts:
into the night, singing, they paddle home together.

        Li T'ai-po
        tr. Hamil
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~ Li Bai, Autumn River Song
,
61:Visiting the nun Rise-In-Air,
You must be near her place in those blue hills.
The rivers force helps pound the mica,
The wind washes rose bay tree flowers.
If you find you cant leave that refuge,
Invite me there to see the sunsets fire.
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~ Li Bai, To My Wife on Lu-shan Mountain
,
62:A dog's bark amid the water's sound,
Peach blossom that's made thicker by the rain.
Deep in the trees, I sometimes see a deer,
And at the stream I hear no noonday bell.

Wild bamboo divides the green mist,
A flying spring hangs from the jasper peak.
No-one knows the place to which he's gone,
Sadly, I lean on two or three pines ~ Li Bai,
63:The forge-fire sets a glow in the heavens,
the hammer thunders, showering the smoke with sparks.

A ruddy smithy, the white face of the moon,
and the hammer, ringing down cold dark canyons.

        Li T'ai-po
        tr. Hamill
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~ Li Bai, Song of the Forge
,
64:When we met the first time at Chang-an
   He called me the Lost Immortal.
   Then he loved the Way of Forgetting.
   Now under the pine-trees he is dust.
   His golden keepsake bought us wine.
   Remembering, the tears run down my cheeks.
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~ Li Bai, Ho Chih-chang
,
65:Your grasses up north are as blue as jade,
Our mulberries here curve green-threaded branches;
And at last you think of returning home,
Now when my heart is almost broken....
O breeze of the spring, since I dare not know you,
Why part the silk curtains by my bed?
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~ Li Bai, In Spring
,
66:As the two of us drink
together, while mountain
flowers blossom beside, we
down one cup after the other
until I am drunk and sleepy
so that you better go!
Tomorrow if you feel like it
do come and bring your lute
along with you!
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~ Li Bai, Drinking With Someone In The Mountains
,
67:The courier will depart next day, she's told.
She sews a warrior's gown all night.
Her fingers feel the needle cold.
How can she hold the scissors tight?
The work is done, she sends it far away.
When will it reach the town where warriors stay?
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~ Li Bai, Ballads Of Four Seasons: Winter
,
68:White King City I left at dawn
in the morning-glow of the clouds;
The thousand miles to Chiang-ling
we sailed in a single day.
On either shore the gibbons' chatter
sounded without pause
While my light boat skimmed past
ten thousand sombre crags.
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~ Li Bai, Leaving White King City
,
69:No Sight
Li Bai, no sight of you for a long time,
It's tragic that you pretend to be insane.
The whole world wants to kill you.
I alone treasure your talent.
Quick-minded, improvising thousands of poems,
you roam like a falling leaf for a cup of wine.
You studied here at Kuang Mountain
and it's time to return, now that your hair is white.
~ Du Fu,
70:It was at a wine party
I lay in a drowse, knowing it not.
The blown flowers fell and filled my lap.
When I arose, still drunken,
The birds had all gone to their nests,
And there remained but few of my comrades.
I went along the riveralone in the moonlight.

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~ Li Bai, The Solitude Of Night
,
71:Bathed in fragrance,
do not brush your hat;
Washed in perfume,
do not shake your coat:

"Knowing the world
fears what is too pure,
The wisest man
prizes and stores light!"

By Bluewater
an old angler sat:
You and I together,
Let us go home.

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~ Li Bai, Bathed and Washed
,
72:The lovely Lo Fo of the western land
Plucks mulberry leaves by the waterside.
Across the green boughs stretches out her white hand;
In golden sunshine her rosy robe is dyed.
"my silkworms are hungry, I cannot stay.
Tarry not with your five-horse cab, I pray."
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~ Li Bai, Ballads Of Four Seasons: Spring
,
73:A slip of the moon hangs over the capital;
Ten thousand washing-mallets are pounding;
And the autumn wind is blowing my heart
For ever and ever toward the Jade Pass....
Oh, when will the Tartar troops be conquered,
And my husband come back from the long campaign!
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~ Li Bai, A Song Of An Autumn Midnight
,
74:Passing One Night in an Old Woman's Hut at the Foot of Mount Five Pines


I lodge under the five pine trees,
Lonely, I feel not quite at ease.
Peasants work hard in autumn old;
Husking rice at night, the maid's cold.
Wilce rice is offered on her knees;
The plate in moonlight seems to freeze.
I'm overwhelmed with gratitude.
Do I deserve the hard-earned food? ~ Li Bai,
75:A slip of the moon hangs over the capital;
Ten thousand washing-mallets are pounding;
And the autumn wind is blowing my heart
For ever and ever toward the Jade Pass....
Oh, when will the Tartar troops be conquered,
And my husband come back from the long campaign!
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Song of an Autumn Midnight by Li Po
,
76:Where crowns a purple haze
Ashimmer in sunlight rays
The hill called Incense-Burner Peak, from far
To see, hung o'er the torrent's wall,
That waterfall
Vault sheer three thousand feet, you'd say
The Milky Way
Was tumbling from the high heavens, star on star
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~ Li Bai, Gazing At The Cascade On Lu Mountain
,
77:        Drinking, I sit,
         Lost to Night,
         Keep falling petals
         From the ground:
         Get up to follow
         The streams white moon,
         No sign of birds,
         The humans gone.
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~ Li Bai, [Facing] Wine
,
78:In a copse of green pines,
I fling my hat on a rockspur,
Hurling after it
The rest of my clothes.

Stretched at ease on soft grass,
Lazily I flick a white-feather fan
As a pine breeze plays
In my loose, unknotted hair.

in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty

by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Summer Day in the Mountains
,
79:Athwart the bed
I watch the moonbeams cast a trail
So bright, so cold, so frail,
That for a space it gleams
Like hoar-frost on the margin of my dreams.
I raise my head, --
The splendid moon I see:
Then droop my head,
And sink to dreams of thee --
My Fatherland, of thee!
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~ Li Bai, Thoughts In A Tranquil Night
,
80: On jade stairs she waits.
Nightlong she waits.

Dew icing to frost

Soaks her silk stockings.

Inside, she lets fall

Crystal-jeweled blinds,
And stares out

At the white autumn moon.

-
in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Jade Stairs Grievance
,
81: Moon-glitter

at the foot of my bedroll
seems on waking

to be feathers of frost.

I raise my head to gaze

at the glittering moon itself

then sink back

longing for home.


-
in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Thoughts On a Quiet Night by Li Po
,
82: Aboard his boat about to set sail
Li Po is startled to hear from shore
an uproar of stomping and singing!

Not even Peach Blossom Pool famed
for its thousand fathoms is as deep
as Wang Lun's heart bidding me goodbye.


-
in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, For Wang Lun by Li Po
,
83:A pity it is evening, yet
I do love the water of this spring
seeing how clear it is, how clean;
rays of sunset gleam on it,
lighting up its ripples, making it
one with those who travel
the roads; I turn and face
the moon; sing it a song, then
listen to the sound of the wind
amongst the pines.
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~ Li Bai, The Cold Clear Spring At Nanyang
,
84:You ask how I spend my time
I nestle against a treetrunk
and listen to autumn winds
in the pines all night and day.

Shantung wine can't get me drunk.
The local poets bore me.
My thoughts remain with you,
like the Wen River, endlessly flowing.

        Li T'ai-po
        tr. Hamill
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~ Li Bai, To Tu Fu from Shantung
,
85:To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows,
We drained a hundred jugs of wine.
A splendid night it was . . . .
In the clear moonlight we were loath to go to bed,
But at last drunkenness overtook us;
And we laid ourselves down on the empty mountain,
The earth for pillow, and the great heaven for coverlet.

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~ Li Bai, A Mountain Revelry
,
86:I came here a wanderer
thinking of home,
remembering my far away Ch'ang-an.
And then, from deep in Yellow Crane Pavillion,
I heard a beautiful bamboo flute
play "Falling Plum Blossoms."
It was late spring in a city by the river.

        Li T'ai-po
        tr. Hamill
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~ Li Bai, Listening to a Flute in Yellow Crane Pavillion
,
87:Peach-tree flowers over rising waters.
White drowned stones, then free again.
Wistaria-blossom on quivering branches.
Clear blue sky. The waxing moon.
How many tight-coiled scrolls of bracken,
On green tracks where I once walked?
When Im back from exile in Yeh-lang,
There Ill transmute my bones to gold.
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~ Li Bai, Remembering the Springs at Chih-chou
,
88:   True-Taoist, good friend Mng,
    Your madness known to one and all,
    Young you laughed at rank and power.
    Now you sleep in pine-tree clouds.
    On moonlit nights floored by the Dragon.
    In magic blossom deaf to the World.
    You rise above - a hill so high.
    I drink the fragrance from afar.
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~ Li Bai, Mng Hao-jan
,
89:To drown the ancient sorrows,
we drank a hundred jugs of wine
there in the beautiful night.
We couldn't go to bed with the moon so bright.

The finally the wine overcame us
and we lay down on the empty mountain
the earth for a pillow,
and a blanket made of heaven.

        Li T'ai-po
        tr. Hamill
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~ Li Bai, Mountain Drinking Song
,
90:Far up river in Szechuan,
waters rise as spring winds roar.

How can I dare to meet her now,
to brave the dangerous gorge?

The grass grows green in the valley below
where silk worms silently spin.

Her hands work threads that never end,
dawn to dusk when the cuckoo sings.

        Li T'ai-po
        tr. Hamill
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~ Li Bai, She Spins Silk
,
91:Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows near the tower.
Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs.
In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl.
Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words.
She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man.
She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.
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~ Li Bai, Crows Calling At Night
,
92:





A flock of birds

skims the upper sky

One white cloud

mopes lazily by.



We mark each other

mountain and I

Till only the mountain

fills my eye.














Li Po (701-762) is China's great Taoist and Buddhist poet. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Sitting Alone On Jingting Mountain by Li Po
,
93:Misted the flowers weep as light dies
Moon of white silk sleeplessly cries.
Stilled - Phoenix wings.
Touched - Mandarin strings.

This song tells secrets that no one knows
To far Yenjan on Spring breeze it goes.
To you it flies
Through the night skies.

Sidelong - Eyes. How
White tears fill now!
Hearts pain? Come see -
In this mirror with me.
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~ Li Bai, Yearning
,
94:The old gardens of Kusu Terrace
are a wilderness, yet the willows
that remain still put out new branches;
lasses gathering water chestnuts
sing so loudly and with such
clarity, that the feeling of spring
returns to us; but where once stood
the palace of the King of Wu, now
only the moon over the
west river once shone on
the lovely ladies there.
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~ Li Bai, On Kusu Terrace
,
95:There was wine in a cup of gold
and a girl of fifteen from Wu,
her eyebrows painted dark
and with slippers of red brocade.

If her conversation was poor,
how beautifully she could sing!
Together we dined and drank
until she settled in my arms.

Behind her curtains
embroidered with lotuses,
how could I refuse
the temptation of her advances?
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~ Li Bai, Confessional
,
96:The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;
The colours of Spring teem on every side.
With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.
The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;
The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.
By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud
Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.



Li Po. Translated by: Arthur Waley

~ Li Bai, Clearing At Dawn
,
97:Amongst bubbling streams
a dog barks; peach blossom
is heavy with dew; here
and there a deer can
be seen in forest glades!
No sound of the mid-day
bell enters this fastness
where blue mist rises
from bamboo groves;
down from a high peak
hangs a waterfall;
non knows where he has gone, so sadly I rest,
with my back leaning
against a pine.
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~ Li Bai, Visiting A Taoist On Tiatien Mountain
,
98:The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;
The colours of Spring teem on every side.
With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing thrushes the green boughs droop.
The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks;
The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist.
By the bamboo stream the last fragment of cloud
Blown by the wind slowly scatters away.
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~ Li Bai, Clearing at Dawn
,
99:Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt sitting in a green wood.
I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
A wind from the pine-tree trickles on my bare head.

      

Another translation:

Too lazy to shift my white feather fan
I lie naked in the green woods.
Hanging my hat on a rock,
I bare my head to the breeze in the pines.
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~ Li Bai, Summer in the Mountains
,
100:   My friend lives high on East Mountain.
    His nature is to love the hills and gorges.
    In green spring he sleeps in empty woodland,
    Still there when the noon sun brightens.
    Pine-tree winds to dust his hair.
    Rock-filled streams to cleanse his senses.
    Free of all sound and stress,
    Resting on a wedge of cloud and mist.
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~ Li Bai, Lines For A Taoist Adept
,
101:Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly,
And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking.
Which was the real - the butterfly or the man ?
Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things?
The water that flows into the depth of the distant sea
Returns in time to the shallows of a transparent stream.
The man, raising melons outside the green gate of the city,
Was once the Prince of the East Hill.
So must rank and riches vanish.
You know it, still you toil and toil - what for? ~ Li Bai,
102:The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a person come home.
One short journey between heaven and earth,
Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.
The rabbit in the moon pounds out the elixir in vain;
Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood.
Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
While the green pines feel the coming of spring.
Looking back, I sigh; looking in front of me, I sigh again.
What is there to value in this life's vaporous glory? ~ Li Bai,
103: Life is a dream. No need to stir.
Remembering this Im drunk all day.
Lying helpless beside the porch,
Waking to see the deep garden.
One bird calls among the flowers.
Ask myself whats the season?
Song of the oriole in Spring breezes,
Voice of beauty sadly moves me.
Is there wine? Ah, fill the cup.
Sing and watch the white moon rise,
until songs end and sense is gone.
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~ Li Bai, Waking from Drunken Sleep on a Spring Day by Li Po
,
104:My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range,
Dearly loving the beauty of valleys and hills.
At green Spring he lies in the empty woods,
And is still asleep when the sun shines on igh.
A pine-tree wind dusts his sleeves and coat;
A peebly stream cleans his heart and ears.
I envy you, who far from strife and talk
Are high-propped on a pillow of blue cloud.

        Li Po
        tr. Waley
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~ Li Bai, To Tan-Ch'iu
,
105:
In brisk autumn air,

the moon glows orange bright.

Falling leaves swirl and tangle,
blown by gusts pursuing gusts.

Over and over, a roosting
jackdaw flutters up in alarm.

Separated, each of us broods how
Long till eyes set eyes on the other.

Till then, every day embitters,
and every night starts tears.

in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)
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~ Li Bai, Autumn Air by Li Po
,
106:Phoenixes that play here once, so that the place was named for them,
Have abandoned it now to this desolated river;
The paths of Wu Palace are crooked with weeds;
The garments of Chin are ancient dust.
...Like this green horizon halving the Three Peaks,
Like this Island of White Egrets dividing the river,
A cloud has risen between the Light of Heaven and me,
To hide his city from my melancholy heart.
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~ Li Bai, On Climbing In Nan-King To The Terrace Of Phoenixes
,
107:ANCIENT AIR (39)

I climb up high and look on the four seas,
Heaven and earth spreading out so far.
Frost blankets all the stuff of autumn,
The wind blows with the great desert's cold.
The eastward-flowing water is immense,
All the ten thousand things billow.
The white sun's passing brightness fades,
Floating clouds seem to have no end.
Swallows and sparrows nest in the wutong tree,
Yuan and luan birds perch among jujube thorns.
Now it's time to head on back again,
I flick my sword and sing 'Taking the Hard Road'. ~ Li Bai,
108:   On Soochows terrace the crows find their nests.
    The King of Wu in his palace drinks with Hsi Shih.
    Songs of Wu, Dances of Chu quicken their pleasure
    One half of the sun is caught in the valleys throat.

    The clocks silver arrow marks the passing hours.
    They rise early to see the autumn moon,
    Watch it sink down into deep river.
    Daylight glows in the East. Dawn renews their joy.
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~ Li Bai, The Roosting Crows
,
109:   Did Chuang Chou dream he was the butterfly?
    Or the butterfly dream he was Chuang Chou?
    In the single bodys transformations
    See the vortex of the Myriad Creatures.
    No mystery then that the Magic Seas
    Shrank again to crystal streams,
    Or down by Chang-ans Green Gate
    The gardener was Marquis of Tung-Ling.
    If this is the fate of fame and power,
    What is it for- this endless striving?
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~ Li Bai, Old Poem
,
110:Dew whitens the jade stairs.
This late, it soaks her gauze stockings.

She lowers her crystal blind to watch
the breaking, glass-clear moon of autumn.
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Waterfall at Lu-shan

Sunlight streams on the river stones.
From high above, the river steadily plunges

three thousand feet of sparkling water
the Milky Way pouring down from heaven.

Li T'ai-po
tr. Hamill
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~ Li Bai, Resentment Near the Jade Stairs
,
111:From the east a spring breeze is touching us,
passing by,
And so in the goblet in the green wine
tiny ripples are formed.
The blossoms stolen by the whirl
are falling to the earth.
My fair girl will be drunken soon
with her blushed cheeks.
Beside the blue pavilion the peach tree -
Do you know, how long it will bloom?
It’s a trembling shine, a dream:
it cheats us and steals away.
Rise and dance!
The sun is fading!
Who never was full of demanding live
and crazy in his young days
will vainly - when the hair
is white - sigh and wail. ~ Li Bai,
112:The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a man come home.
One brief journey betwixt heaven and earth,
Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.
The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain;
Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood.
Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
When the green pines feel the coming of the spring.
Looking back, I sigh; looking before, I sigh again.
What is there to prize in the life's vaporous glory?
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~ Li Bai, The Old Dust
,
113:A bright moon rising above Tian Shan Mountain,
Lost in a vast ocean of clouds.
The long wind, across thousands upon thousands of miles,
Blows past the Jade-gate Pass.
The army of Han has gone down the Baiteng Road,
As the barbarian hordes probe at Qinghai Bay.
It is known that from the battlefield
Few ever live to return.
Men at Garrison look on the border scene,
Home thoughts deepen sorrow on their faces.
In the towered chambers tonight,
Ceaseless are the women's sighs.
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~ Li Bai, Moon Over Mountain Pass
,
114:Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly,
And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking.
Which was the realthe butterfly or the man ?
Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things?
The water that flows into the depth of the distant sea
Returns anon to the shallows of a transparent stream.
The man, raising melons outside the green gate of the city,
Was once the Prince of the East Hill.
So must rank and riches vanish.
You know it, still you toil and toil,what for?

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~ Li Bai, Chuang Tzu And The Butterfly
,
115:
A dog's bark mingles with splashing water;
Nearby, peach blossoms fatten on spring rain.

Now and then in deep woods I spot deer;
Ahead, a rushing stream drowns out noon's bell;

Blades of wild bamboo slice blue mist;
From a jade peak erupts a torrent of snow-melt.

No one knows where the master has gone;
Leaning dejected on this and that pine, I linger.


-
in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Visiting a Taoist Master on Tai-T'ien Mountain by Li Po
,
116:by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
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For Meng Hao-Jan
I love Master Meng.
Free as a flowing breeze,
He is famous
Throughout the world.

In rosy youth, he cast away
Official cap and carriage.
Now, a white-haired elder, he reclines
Amid pines and cloud.

Drunk beneath the moon,
He often attains sagehood.
Lost among the flowers,
He serves no lord.

How can I aspire
to such a high mountain?
Here below, to his clear fragrance,
I bow.

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~ Li Bai, Hard Journey
,
117: I climb up high and look on the four seas,
Heaven and earth spreading out so far.
Frost blankets all the stuff of autumn,
The wind blows with the great desert's cold.
The eastward-flowing water is immense,
All the ten thousand things billow.
The white sun's passing brightness fades,
Floating clouds seem to have no end.
Swallows and sparrows nest in the wutong tree,
Yuan and luan birds perch among jujube thorns.
Now it's time to head on back again,
I flick my sword and sing Taking the Hard Road.
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~ Li Bai, Ancient Air (39)
,
118:
Green mountains
steeple across the North Wall.
White riverwater
rushes round the city's east end.

From this place
once we part, a lone
tumbleweed, my friend
will be tossed ten thousand miles.

Like drifting clouds
his wanderer's dreams.
Like the sinking sun
his old friend's heart.

We wave hands
as he starts away, our horses
neighing to each other
as we shout our last goodbyes.

-
in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2009)
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~ Li Bai, Taking Leave of a Friend by Li Po
,
119:From the walls of Baidi high in the coloured dawn
To Jiangling by night-fall is three hundred miles,
Yet monkeys are still calling on both banks behind me
To my boat these ten thousand mountains away.
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Under The Moon
Under the crescent moon's faint glow
The washerman's bat resounds afar,
And the autumn breeze sighs tenderly.
But my heart has gone to the Tartar war,
To bleak Kansuh and the steppes of snow,
Calling my husband back to me.
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~ Li Bai, Through The Yangzi Gorges
,
120:The bright moon lifts from the Mountain of Heaven
In an infinite haze of cloud and sea,
And the wind that has come a thousand miles
Beats at the Jade Pass battlements.
China marches its men down Baideng Road
While Tartar troops peer across blue waters of the bay.
And since not one battle famous in history
Sent all its fighters back again,
The soldiers turn round, looking toward the border,
And think of home, with wistful eyes,
And of those tonight in the upper chambers
Who toss and sigh and cannot rest.
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~ Li Bai, Moon at the Fortified Pass by Li Po
,
121:The bright moon lifts from the Mountain of Heaven
In an infinite haze of cloud and sea,
And the wind, that has come a thousand miles,
Beats at the Jade Pass battlements....
China marches its men down Baideng Road
While Tartar troops peer across blue waters of the bay....
And since not one battle famous in history
Sent all its fighters back again,
The soldiers turn round, looking toward the border,
And think of home, with wistful eyes,
And of those tonight in the upper chambers
Who toss and sigh and cannot rest.
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~ Li Bai, The Moon At The Fortified Pass
,
122:We climbed Yoyang Tower with
all the scene around coming
into vision; looking up the
Great River seeing boats turn
and enter the Tungting Lake; geese
crying farewell to the river
as they flew south; evening falling
as if mountain tops upt up the moon
with their lips; and we in the Yoyang
Tower as if with heads amongst
the cloud, drinking wine as if the cups
came from heaven itself; then
having drunk our fill there blew
a cold wind filling out our
sleeves, it seeming as though
we were dancing in time with it.
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~ Li Bai, Going Up Yoyang Tower
,
123:The high tower is a hundred feet tall,
From here one's hand could pluck the stars.
I do not dare to speak in a loud voice,
I fear to disturb the people in heaven.
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Midnight Song of Wu
In Chang'an city is the disk of the moon,
The sound of pounding clothes in ten thousand households.
The autumn wind is blowing without cease,
All the time I think of Yuguan pass.
When will we pacify the pillaging Hu,
So my husband can end his long journey?
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~ Li Bai, Staying The Night At A Mountain Temple
,
124:Dreaming Of Li Bai (1)
Separation by death must finally be choked down,
but separation in life is a long anguish,
Chiang-nan is a pestilential land;
no word from you there in exile.
You have been in my dreams, old friend,
as if knowing how much I miss you.
Caught in a net,
how is it you still have wings?
I fear you are no longer mortal;
the distance to here is enormous.
When your spirit came, the maples were green;
when it went, the passes were black.
The setting moon spills light on the rafters;
for a moment I think it's your face.
The waters are deep, the waves wide;
don't let the river gods take you.
~ Du Fu,
125:   Mountain flowers open in our faces.
    You and I are triply lost in wine.
    Im drunk, my friend, sleepy. Rise and go.
    With your dawn lute, return, if you wish, and stay.
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Ballads Of Four Seasons: Summer
On Mirror Lake outspread for miles and miles,
The lotus lilies in full blossom teem.
In fifth moon Xi Shi gathers them with smiles,
Watchers o'erwhelm the bank of Yuoye Stream.
Her boat turns back without waiting moonrise
To yoyal house amid amorous sighs.
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~ Li Bai, Drinking in the Mountains
,
126:The spring wind comes from the east and quickly passes,
Leaving faint ripples in the wine of the golden bowl.
The flowers fall, flake after flake, myriads together.

You, pretty girl, wine-flushed,
Your rosy face is rosier still.
How long may the peach and plum trees flower
By the green-painted house?
The fleeting light deceives man,
Brings soon the stumbling age.

Rise and dance
In the westering sun
While the urge of youthful years is yet unsubdued!
What avails to lament after one's hair has turned white
like silken threads?

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~ Li Bai, Before The Cask of Wine
,
127:Down the blue mountain in the evening,
Moonlight was my homeward escort.
Looking back, I saw my path
Lie in levels of deep shadow....
I was passing the farm-house of a friend,
When his children called from a gate of thorn
And led me twining through jade bamboos
Where green vines caught and held my clothes.
And I was glad of a chance to rest
And glad of a chance to drink with my friend....
We sang to the tune of the wind in the pines;
And we finished our songs as the stars went down,
When, I being drunk and my friend more than happy,
Between us we forgot the world.
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~ Li Bai, Down Zhongnan Mountain
,
128:Flocks of birds have flown high and away;
A solitary drift of cloud, too, has gone, wandering on.
And I sit alone with the Ching-ting Peak, towering beyond.
We never grow tired of each other, the mountain and I.
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To Wang Lun
I was about to sail away in a junk,
When suddenly I heard
The sound of stamping and singing on the bank
It was you and your friends come to bid me farewell.
The Peach Flower Lake is a thousand fathoms deep,
But it cannot compare, O Wang Lun,
With the depth of your love for me.
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~ Li Bai, The Ching-Ting Mountain
,
129:If heaven loved not the wine,
A Wine Star would not be in heaven;
If earth loved not the wine,
The Wine Spring would not be on the earth.
Since heaven and earth love the wine,
Need a tippling mortal be ashamed?
The transparent wine, I hear,
Has the soothing virtue of a sage,
While the turgid is rich, they say,
As the fertile mind of the wise.
Both the sage and the wise were drinkers,
Why seek for peers among gods and goblins?
Three cups open the grand door to bliss;
Take a jugful, the universe is yours.
Such is the rapture of the wine,
That the sober shall never inherit.

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~ Li Bai, A Vindication
,
130:Jade carved dishes - food costing more.
   I throw the chopsticks down,
   Food and wine are tasteless.
   Draw my magic sword,
   Mind confused stare round me.
   See the ice floes block the Yellow River.
   Feel the snowfall shroud the Tai-hang Mountains.
   Quiet again I cast in dark waters,
   Find the fragile boat that might drift sunwards.
   Hard Journey. So many side-tracks.
   Turn after turn, and where am I?
   New breezes flatten down the waves ahead.
   Ill set cloud sails, cross the Blue Horizon.
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~ Li Bai, Gold painted jars - wines worth a thousand
,
131:A FAREWELL TO SECRETARY SHUYUN AT THE XIETIAO VILLA IN XUANZHOU

Since yesterday had to throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.
The autumn wild geese have a long wind for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.
The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the School of Heaven,
And I am a Lesser Xie growing up by your side.
We both are exalted to distant thought,
Aspiring to the sky and the bright moon.
But since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords,
And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishing boat.
~ Li Bai, Farewell
,
132:Dreaming Of Li Bai (2)
Clouds drifting the whole day;
a traveler traveling who never arrives.
Three nights you have been in my dreams;
as your friend, I knew your mind.
You say your return is always harrowing;
your coming, a hard coming;
Rivers, lakes, so many waves;
in your boat you fear overturning.
Going out the door, you scratch your white head
as if the purpose of your whole life was ruined,
The rich and high positioned fill the Capital,
while you, alone, are careworn and dejected.
Who says the net of heaven is cast wide?
Growing older, you only grow more preyed upon.
One thousand autumns, ten thousand years of fame,
are nothing after death.
~ Du Fu,
133:Gold vessels of fine wines,
thousands a gallon,
Jade dishes of rare meats,
costing more thousands,
I lay my chopsticks down,
no more can banquet,
I draw my sword and stare
wildly about me:
Ice bars my way to cross
the Yellow River,
Snows from dark skies to climb
the T'ai-hang mountains!
At peace I drop a hook
into a brooklet,
At once I'm in a boat
but sailing sunward
(Hard is the journey,
Hard is the journey,
So many turnings,
And now where am I?)

So when a breeze breaks waves,
bringing fair weather,
I set a cloud for sails,
cross the blue oceans!
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~ Li Bai, Hard Is The Journey
,
134:How beautiful she looks, opening the pearly casement,
And how quiet she leans, and how troubled her brow is!
You may see the tears now, bright on her cheek,
But not the man she so bitterly loves.
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On Gazing Into A Mirror
Follow Tao, and nothing is old or new.
Lose it, and the ruins of age return.

Someone smiling back in the mirror,
hair white as the frost-stained glass,

you admit lament is empty, ask how
reflections get so worn and withered.

How speak of peach and plum: timeless
South Mountain blazes in the end?
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~ Li Bai, Bitter Love by Li Po
,
135:   At evening I make it down the mountain.
    Keeping company with the moon.
    Looking back I see the paths Ive taken
    Blue now, blue beneath the skyline.
    You greet me, show the hidden track,
    Where children pull back hawthorn curtains,
    Reveal green bamboo, the secret path,
    Vines that touch the travellers clothes.
    I love finding space to rest,
    Clear wine to enjoy with you.
    Wind in the pines till voices stop,
    Songs till the Ocean of Heaven pales.
    I get drunk and you are happy,
    Both of us pleased to forget the world.
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~ Li Bai, Reaching the Hermitage
,
136:You ask for what reason I stay on the green mountain,
I smile, but do not answer, my heart is at leisure.
Peach blossom is carried far off by flowing water,
Apart, I have heaven and earth in the human world.
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About Tu Fu
I met Tu Fu on a mountaintop
in August when the sun was hot.

Under the shade of his big straw hat
his face was sad

in the years since we last parted,
he'd grown wan, exhausted.

Poor old Tu Fu, I thought then,
he must be agonizing over poetry again.

        Li Po
        tr. Hamil
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~ Li Bai, Question And Answer On The Mountain
,
137:Since yesterday had throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.
The autumn wildgeese have a long wing for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.
The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the school of heaven,
And I am Lesser Hsieh growing up by your side.
We both are exalted to distant thought,
Aspiring to the sky and the bright moon.
But since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords,
And sorrow return,though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishing-boat.

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~ Li Bai, Farewell to Secretary Shu-yun at the Hsieh Tiao Villa in Hsuan-Chou
,
138:Amongst the grandeur of Hua Shan
I climb to the Flower Peak,
and fancy I see fairies and immortals
carrying lotus in their
sacred white hands, robes flowing
they fly filling the sky with colour
as they rise to the palace of heaven,
inviting me to go to the cloud stage
and see Wei Shu-ching, guardian angel
of Hua Shan; so dreamily I go with them
riding to the sky on the back
of wild geese which call as they fly,
but when we look below at Loyang,
not so clear because of the mist,
everywhere could be seen looting
armies, which took Loyang, creating
chaos and madness with blood
flowing everywhere; like animals of prey
rebel army men made into officials
with caps and robes to match.
~ Li Bai, Climbing West of Lotus Flower Peak
,
139:Since yesterday had to throw me and bolt,
Today has hurt my heart even more.
The autumn wild geese have a long wind for escort
As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine.
The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the School of Heaven,
And I am a Lesser Xie growing up by your side.
We both are exalted to distant thought,
Aspiring to the sky and the bright moon.
But since water still flows, though we cut it with our swords,
And sorrows return, though we drown them with wine,
Since the world can in no way answer our craving,
I will loosen my hair tomorrow and take to a fishing boat.
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~ Li Bai, A Farewell To Secretary Shuyun At The Xietiao Villa In Xuanzhou
,
140:In what house, the jade flute that sends these dark notes drifting,
scattering on the spring wind that fills Lo-yang?
Tonight if we should hear the willow-breaking song,
who could help but long for the gardens of home?
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Parting At A Wine-Shop In Nan-King
A wind, bringing willow-cotton, sweetens the shop,
And a girl from Wu, pouring wine, urges me to share it.
With my comrades of the city who are here to see me off;
And as each of them drains his cup, I say to him in parting,
Oh, go and ask this river running to the east
If it can travel farther than a friend's love!
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~ Li Bai, Spring Night In Lo-Yang Hearing A Flute
,
141:Li Bai is already on the boat, preparing to depart,
I suddenly hear the sound of stamping and singing on the shore.
The water of Taohua pond reaches a thousand feet in depth,
But still it's not as deep as Wang Lun's feelings seeing me off.
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Seeing Off A Friend
Green hills above the northern wall,
White water winding east of the city.
On this spot our single act of parting,
The lonely tumbleweed journeys ten thousand li.
Drifting clouds echo the traveller's thoughts,
The setting sun reflects my old friend's feelings.
You wave your hand and set off from this place,
Your horse whinnies as it leaves.
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~ Li Bai, For Wang Lun
,
142:Amidst the flowers a jug of wine,
I pour alone lacking companionship.
So raising the cup I invite the Moon,
Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us.
Because the Moon does not know how to drink,
My shadow merely follows the movement of my body.
The moon has brought the shadow to keep me company a while,
The practice of mirth should keep pace with spring.
I start a song and the moon begins to reel,
I rise and dance and the shadow moves grotesquely.
While I'm still conscious let's rejoice with one another,
After I'm drunk let each one go his way.
Let us bind ourselves for ever for passionless journeyings.
Let us swear to meet again far in the Milky Way.

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~ Li Bai, Amidst the Flowers a Jug of Wine
,
143:I took a small path leading
up a hill valley, finding there
a temple, its gate covered
with moss, and in front of
the door but tracks of birds;
in the room of the old monk
no one was living, and I
staring through the window
saw but a hair duster hanging
on the wall, itself covered
with dust; emptily I sighed
thinking to go, but then
turning back several times,
seeing how the mist on
the hills was flying, and then
a light rain fell as if it
were flowers falling from
the sky, making a music of
its own; away in the distance
came the cry of a monkey, and
for me the cares of the world
slipped away, and I was filled
with the beauty around me.
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~ Li Bai, Looking For A Monk And Not Finding Him
,
144:The River Chu cuts through the middle of heaven's gate,
The green water flowing east reaches here then swirls.
On either bank the blue hills face towards each other,
The flatness of a lonely sail comes from by of the sun.
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Visiting The Taoist Priest Dai Tianshan But Not Finding Him
A dog's bark amid the water's sound,
Peach blossom that's made thicker by the rain.
Deep in the trees, I sometimes see a deer,
And at the stream I hear no noonday bell.
Wild bamboo divides the green mist,
A flying spring hangs from the jasper peak.
No-one knows the place to which he's gone,
Sadly, I lean on two or three pines.
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~ Li Bai, Viewing Heaven's Gate Mountains
,
145:Amongst the grandeur of Hua Shan
I climb to the Flower Peak,
and fancy I see fairies and immortals
carrying lotus in their
sacred white hands, robes flowing
they fly filling the sky with colour
as they rise to the palace of heaven,
inviting me to go to the cloud stage
and see Wei Shu-ching, guardian angel
of Hua Shan; so dreamily I go with them
riding to the sky on the back
of wild geese which call as they fly,
but when we look below at Loyang,
not so clear because of the mist,
everywhere could be seen looting
armies, which took Loyang, creating
chaos and madness with blood
flowing everywhere; like animals of prey
rebel army men made into officials
with caps and robes to match.
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~ Li Bai, Climbing West Of Lotus Flower Peak
,
146:Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way. ~ Li Bai,
147:On Drinking Alone by Moonlight


Here are flowers and here is wine,
But where’s a friend with me to join
Hand in hand and heart to heart
In one full cup before we part?

Rather than to drink alone,
I’ll make bold to ask the moon
To condescend to lend her face
The hour and the scene to grace.

Lo, she answers, and she brings
My shadow on her silver wings;
That makes three, and we shall be.
I ween, a merry company

The modest moon declines the cup,
But shadow promptly takes it up,
And when I dance my shadow fleet
Keeps measure with my flying feet.

But though the moon declines to tipple
She dances in yon shining ripple,
And when I sing, my festive song,
The echoes of the moon prolong.

Say, when shall we next meet together?
Surely not in cloudy weather,
For you my boon companions dear
Come only when the sky is clear. ~ Li Bai,
148:My old friend's said goodbye to the west, here at Yellow Crane Tower,
In the third month's cloud of willow blossoms, he's going down to Yangzhou.
The lonely sail is a distant shadow, on the edge of a blue emptiness,
All I see is the Yangtze River flow to the far horizon.
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Taking Leave of a Friend
Blue mountains lie beyond the north wall;
Round the citys eastern side flows the white water.
Here we part, friend, once forever.
You go ten thousand miles, drifting away
Like an unrooted water-grass.
Oh, the floating clouds and the thoughts of a wanderer!
Oh, the sunset and the longing of an old friend!
We ride away from each other, waving our hands,
While our horses neigh softly, softly . . . .
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~ Li Bai, Seeing Off Meng Haoran For Guangling At Yellow Crane Tower
,
149:Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,

and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon

accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are

friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.

~ Li Bai, Alone And Drinking Under The Moon
,
150:Clouds bring back to mind her dress, the flowers her face.
Winds of spring caress the rail where sparkling dew-drops cluster.
If you cannot see her by the jewelled mountain top,
Maybe on the moonlit Jasper Terrace you will meet her.
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Hearing a Flute in Lo-yang City On a Spring Night by Li Po
From which window does a jade flute weave
Such sad music into the spring winds that swell Lo-yang?

Should it play the willow-breaking song tonight,
I would find it even harder to bear my longing for home.


-

in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)


Note: Lines 3-4 allude to a Chinese song that was commonly sung at parting, when a willow sprig was snapped from a branch and presented as a memento to the departing one.
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~ Li Bai, Ch'ing P'ing Tiao
,
151:A jade cup was broken because old age came
too soon to give fulfilment to hopes; after drinking
three cups of wine I wiped my sword and
started to dance under an autumn moon first
singing in a high voice then unable to halt
tears coming; I remember the day when first
I was summoned to court and I was feasted splendidly
writing poems in praise of the Emperor, making
jokes with officials around several times changing
my horse, taking the best from the
imperial stables; with my whip studded with
jade and coral presented to me by the Emperor,
my life was free and easy, people calling me
the "Banished Immortal." Hsi Shih was good
at smiling as well as frowning, useless
for ordinary girls to try and imitate her.
Surely it was only her loveliness the king adored,
but unfortunately jealousy within the palace
led to her death.
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~ Li Bai, Song Of The Jade Cup
,
152:You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain;
I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care.
As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown,
I have a world apart that is not among men.
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Drinking Alone
I take my wine jug out among the flowers
to drink alone, without friends.

I raise my cup to entice the moon.
That, and my shadow, makes us three.

But the moon doesn't drink,
and my shadow silently follows.

I will travel with moon and shadow,
happy to the end of spring.

When I sing, the moon dances.
When I dance, my shadow dances, too.

We share life's joys when sober.
Drunk, each goes a separate way.

Constant friends, although we wander,
we'll meet again in the Milky Way.

Li T'ai-po
tr. Hamil
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~ Li Bai, Green Mountain
,
153:Wine-maker there by Yellow Fountains,
Eternal Spring thats still your vintage.
Without Li Po on Nights Terrace
Who can there be to bring you custom?
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Long Yearning
Long yearning,
To be in Chang'an.
The grasshoppers weave their autumn song by the golden railing of the well;
Frost coalesces on my bamboo mat, changing its colour with cold.
My lonely lamp is not bright, Id like to end these thoughts;
I roll back the hanging, gaze at the moon, and long sigh in vain.
The beautiful person's like a flower beyond the edge of the clouds.
Above is the black night of heaven's height;
Below is the green water billowing on.
The sky is long, the road is far, bitter flies my spirit;
The spirit I dream can't get through, the mountain pass is hard.
Long yearning,
Breaks my heart.
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~ Li Bai, Lament for Mr Tai
,
154: Over Chang-an hangs a slash of moon; by its faint light,
women are pounding ten thousand washing mallets

While ceaselessly autumn winds hurl
my sodden heart to Jade Mountain Pass.

Oh, when will the bearded barbarians be beaten back
And our husbands returned home to us from far-off battles?

-

Line 2 Note by Frank Watson: In ancient China, usually women wash the clothes by pounding them with mallets. They were washing the clothes for their husbands, who were gone at the battle fields. Usually, women pound clothes in the daytime so they can see better. During war time, when the males were all gone, women had more farm work to do in the daytime. So they could only wash clothes under the moon. This scene portrays housewives also had a tough time during the wars."



Line 4 Note: Jade Mountain Pass, where the fighting was taking place.
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~ Li Bai, Lament On an Autumn Night
,
155:
Endless my yearning
To be with you in Chang-an.

Faraway, where chirring crickets
thread autumn songs
around the wells gold rail,
coldly I sit, cramped
on a bamboo mat
crusted with blue frost.

Dim is the light from my only lamp,
darkly ablaze my longing for you.
Lifting the curtain, I stare

hard at the moon.
Helplessly, I sigh and sigh, longing
to smell the flower-scent of a woman
who dwells far from me
as the remotest cloud at sky's end.

Above, the night climbs
into boundless black.
Below, the river tosses up
billows of darkest green.

Must heaven be so high?
Earth so vast?

Between them, my unfed soul
flies over a road that even in my dreams
is blocked at every mountain pass.

This endless yearning
Breaks my heart!









Translated 2018 by Stanton Hager
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~ Li Bai, Endless Yearning by Li Po
,
156:Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,

and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;
in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon

accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are

friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.
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214
~ Li Bai, Alone and Drinking Under the Moon
,
157:All the birds have flown up and gone;
A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other -
Only the mountain and I.

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Like (381) 190
Good Old Moon
When I was a boy I called the moon a
white plate of jade, sometimes it looked
like a great mirror hanging in the sky,
first came the two legs of the fairy
and the cassia tree, but for whom the rabbit
kept on pounding medical herbs, I
just could not guess. Now the moon is being
swallowed by the toad and the light
flickers out leaving darkness all around;
I hear that when nine of the burning suns out
of the ten were ordered to be shot down by
the Emperor Yao, all has since been quiet
and peaceful both for heaven and man,
but this eating up of the moon is for me
a truly ugly scene filling me with forebodings
wondering what will come out of it.
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~ Li Bai, Alone Looking at the Mountain
,
158:From whose home secretly flies the sound of a jade flute?
It's lost amid the spring wind which fills Luoyang city.
In the middle of this nocturne I remember the snapped willow,
What person would not start to think of home!
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Laolao Ting Pavilion
What place under heaven most hurts the heart?
Laolao Ting, for seeing visitors off.
The spring wind knows how bitter it is to part,
The willow twig will never again be green.
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Sent To Du Fu Below Shaqiu City
What is it that I've come to now?
High before me: Shaqiu city.
Beside the city, ancient trees;
The sunset joins the autumn sounds.
The Lu wine cannot make me drunk,
Despite Qi's songs, my feelings return.
My thoughts of you are like the Wen's waters,
Mightily sent on their southern journey.
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~ Li Bai, Hearing A Flute On A Spring Night In Luoyang
,
159:Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk,
Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes.
Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream,
Birds are far off, people too are few.
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Down from the Mountain
As down Mount Emerald at eve I came,
   The mountain moon went all the way with me.
Backward I looked, to see the heights aflame
   With a pale light that glimmered eerily.

A little lad undid the rustic latch
   As hand in hand your cottage we did gain,
Where green limp tendrils at our cloaks did catch,
   And dim bamboos o'erhung a shadowy lane.

Gaily I cried, "Here may we rest our fill!"
   Then choicest wines we quaffed; and cheerily
"The Wind among the Pines" we sang, until
   A few faint stars hung in the Galaxy.

   Merry were you, my friend: and drunk was I,
   Blissfully letting all the world go by.

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~ Li Bai, Amusing Myself
,
160:I climbed west on Incense Cloud Peak.
    South I saw the spray-filled falls
    Dropping for ten thousand feet
    Sounding in a hundred gorges,
    Suddenly as if lightning shone,
    Strange as if light-wet rainbows lifted.
    I thought the Milky Way had shattered,
    Scattering stars through the clouds, downwards.

    Looking up an even greater force.
    Natures powers are so intense.
    The Cosmic Wind blows there without stop.
    The rivers moon echoes back the light
    Into vortices where waters rush.
    On both sides the clear walls were washed,
    By streams of pearl broken into mist,
    By clouds of foam whitening over rock.

    Let me reach those Sublime Hills
    Where peace comes to the quiet heart.
    No more need to find the magic cup.
    Ill wash the dust, there, from my face,
    And live in those regions that I love,
    Separated from the Human World.
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~ Li Bai, Lu Mountain, Kiangsi
,
161:The universe is but a tenement
of all things visible. Darkness and day
the passing guests of Time.
Life slips away,
a dream of little joy and mean content.

Ah! wise the old philosophers who sought
To lengthen their long sunsets among flowers,
By stealing the young night's unsullied hours
And the dim moments with sweet burdens fraught.

And now Spring beckons me with verdant hand,
And Nature's wealth of eloquence doth win
Forth to the fragrant-bowered nectarine,
Where my dear friends abide, a careless band.

There meet my gentle, matchless brothers, there
I come, the obscure poet, all unfit
To wear the radiant jewelry of wit,
And in their golden presence cloud the air.
And while the thrill of meeting lingers, soon
As the first courtly words, the feast is spread,
While, couched on flowers 'mid wine-cups flashing red,
We drink deep draughts unto The Lady Moon.

Then as without the touch of verse divine
There is no outlet for the pent-up soul,
'Twas ruled that he who quaffed no fancy's bowl
Should drain the "Golden Valley" cups of wine ~ Li Bai,
162:Whence these twelve peaks of Wu-shan!
Have they flown into the gorgeous screen
From heaven's one corner?
Ah, those lonely pines murmuring in the wind!
Those palaces of Yang-tai, hovering yonder
Oh, the melancholy of it!
Where the jeweled couch of the king
With brocade covers is desolate,
His elfin maid voluptuously fair
Still haunting them in vain!

Here a few feet
Seem a thousand miles.
The craggy walls glisten blue and red,
A piece of dazzling embroidery.
How green those distant trees are
Round the river strait of Ching-men!
And those shipsthey go on,
Floating on the waters of Pa.
The water sings over the rocks
Between countless hills
Of shining mist and lustrous grass.

How many years since these valley flowers bloomed
To smile in the sun ?
And that man traveling on the river,
Hears he not for ages the monkeys screaming?
Whoever looks on this,
Loses himself in eternity;
And entering the sacred mountains of Sung,
He will dream among the resplendent clouds.
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~ Li Bai, On A Picture Screen
,
163:(To an old tune)

         We fought for Mulberry Springs
         Die now for Garlic River.
         Wash our swords in Parthian Seas,
         Feed our mounts on Tien Shan snows.
         Thousands of miles to and fro.
         The Three Armies tired and old.
         These Huns kill instead of ploughing,
         Sow white bones in desert sand.
         Chin built the Great Wall.
         Han keeps the bright beacons.
         These fires never die.
         These wars never end.
         Hand to hand we fight and fail,
         Horses screaming to the skies.
         Kites and crows pick at our flesh
         Perch on dead trees with our dead.
         We paint the grasses red,
         Because our General had a plan.
         The sword I says an evil thing.
         A wise man keeps it from his hand.
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~ Li Bai, We Fought for - South of the Walls
,
164:You ask me, `Why dwell among green mountains?'
I laugh in silence; my soul is quiet.
Peach blossom follows the moving water;
Here is a heaven and earth, beyond the world of men.
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Sitting Alone On Jingting Shan Hill
A flock of birds is flying high in the distance,
A lonely cloud drifts idly on its own.
We gaze at each other, neither growing tired,
There is only Jingting Shan.
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Joshua Belisle: Skipped adult post 8448119
Long Yearning (Sent Far)
When the beautiful woman was here, the hall was filled with flowers,
Now the beautiful woman's gone, the bed is lying empty.
On the bed, the embroidered quilt is rolled up: no-one sleeps,
Though three years have now gone by, I think I smell that scent.
The scent is finished but not destroyed,
The woman's gone and does not come.
Yearning yellows the falling leaf,
White dew beads the green moss.
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~ Li Bai, Talk in the Mountains [Question & Answer on the Mountain]
,
165:Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.

Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.
Our horses neigh to each other
             as we are departing.
            

  This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems
  The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.S. Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time."
   CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.
   CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.
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~ Li Bai, Taking Leave of a Friend by Li Po Tr. by Ezra Pound
,
166:Last year we fought by the head-stream of the So-Kan,
This year we are fighting on the Tsung-ho road.
We have washed our armor in the waves of the Chiao-chi lake,
We have pastured our horses on Tien-shan's snowy slopes.
The long, long war goes on ten thousand miles from home.
Our three armies are worn and grown old.

The barbarian does man-slaughter for plowing;
On his yellow sand-plains nothing has been seen but blanched skulls and bones.
Where the Chin emperor built the walls against the Tartars,
There the defenders of Han are burning beacon fires.
The beacon fires burn and never go out.
There is no end to war!--

In the battlefield men grapple each other and die;
The horses of the vanquished utter lamentable cries to heaven,
While ravens and kites peck at human entrails,
Carry them up in their flight, and hang them on the branches of dead trees.
So, men are scattered and smeared over the desert grass,
And the generals have accomplished nothing.

Oh, nefarious war! I see why arms
Were so seldom used by the benign sovereigns
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~ Li Bai, Nefarious War
,
167:They say the roads of Sanso are steep,
Sheer as the mountains.
The walls rise in a man's face,
Clouds grow out of the hill
          at his horse's bridle.
Sweet trees are on the paved way of the Shin,
Their trunks burst through the paving,
And freshets are bursting their ice
          in the midst of Shoku, a proud city.

Men's fates are already set,
There is no need of asking diviners.



-

  This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems
  The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.S. Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time."
   CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.
   CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.
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~ Li Bai, Leave-Taking Near Shoku
,
168:The phoenix are at play on their terrace.
The phoenix are gone, the river flows on alone.
Flowers and grass
Cover over the dark path
         where lay the dynastic house of the Go.
The bright cloths and bright caps of Shin
Are now the base of old hills.

The Three Mountains fall through the far heaven,
The isle of White Heron
         splits the two streams apart.
Now the high clouds cover the sun
And I can not see Choan afar
And I am sad.


This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems
  The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.S. Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time."
   CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.
   CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.
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~ Li Bai, The City of Choan
,
169:As down Mount Emerald at eve I came,
The mountain moon went all the way with me.
Backward I looked, to see the heights aflame
With a pale light that glimmered eerily.

A little lad undid the rustic latch
As hand in hand your cottage we did gain,
Where green limp tendrils at our cloaks did catch,
And dim bamboos oerhung a shadowy lane.

Gaily I cried, Here may we rest our fill!
Then choicest wines we quaffed; and cheerily
The Wind among the Pines we sang, until
A few faint stars hung in the Galaxy.

Merry were you, my friend: and drunk was I,
Blissfully letting all the world go by.

Down the Mountain (Reaching the Hermitage)

At evening I make it down the mountain.
Keeping company with the moon.
Looking back I see the paths Ive taken
Blue now, blue beneath the skyline.
You greet me, show the hidden track,
Where children pull back hawthorn curtains,
Reveal green bamboo, the secret path,
Vines that touch the travellers clothes.
I love finding space to rest,
Clear wine to enjoy with you.
Wind in the pines till voices stop,
Songs till the Ocean of Heaven pales.
I get drunk and you are happy,
Both of us pleased to forget the world.



Li Po. Version by: A. S. Klines version

~ Li Bai, Down From The Mountain
,
170:In the land of Wu the mulberry leaves are green,
And thrice the silkworms have gone to sleep.
In East Luh where my family stay,
I wonder who is sowing those fields of ours.
I cannot be back in time for the spring doings,
Yet I can help nothing, traveling on the river.
The south wind blowing wafts my homesick spirit
And carries it up to the front of our familiar tavern.
There I see a peach tree on the east side of the house
With thick leaves and branches waving in the blue mist.
It is the tree I planted before my parting three years ago.
The peach tree has grown now as tall as the tavern roof,
While I have wandered about without returning.
Ping-yang, my pretty daughter, I see you stand
By the peach tree and pluck a flowering branch.
You pluck the flowers, but I am not there
How your tears flow like a stream of water!
My little son, Po-chin, grown up to your sister's shoulders,
You come out with her under the peach tree,
But who is there to pat you on the back?
When I think of these things, my senses fail,
And a sharp pain cuts my heart every day.
Now I tear off a piece of white silk to write this letter,
And send it to you with my love a long way up the river.

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~ Li Bai, To His Two Children
,
171: Stared into my wine cup
unaware of the growing dark
until falling blossoms
filled the folds of my robe.

Drunk, I stumbled to the moon
floating in the stream
where the birds had long flown away
and a few men loitered.
Another Version
(Please let me know which you prefer):
Stared into my
wine cup
oblivious
to the growing dark
until falling
blossoms
filled the folds
of my robe.

Drunk
I stumbled
to the moon floating
in the stream
where the birds
had long flown away
and a few men
loitered.

-
in Huangshan: Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2010)
Li Po (AD 701-762) is famous for his poems that unabashedly celebrate drunkenness: an induced state of heightened feelings which he believed inspired his poetry. Yet, in this self-reprimanding poem he reveals the shadow side of drunkenness: the oblivious lost long hours spent hunched over wine, unaware of everything but the cup of wine in front of him. The poet doesn't notice the sunset: doesn't notice the dark till blossoms falling from an overhead tree have filled the folds of his robe. Too, he is oblivious to the chirping and flying about of birds. And, though he is a sociable, conversational man, he talks to no one. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Facing Wine
,
172:See how the Yellow River's water move out of heaven.
Entering the ocean,never to return.
See how lovely locks in bright mirrors in high chambers,
Though silken-black at morning, have changed by night to snow.
Oh, let a man of spirit venture where he pleases
And never tip his golden cup empty toward the moon!
Since heaven gave the talent, let it be employed!
Spin a thousand of pieces of silver, all of them come back!
Cook a sheep, kill a cow, whet the appetite,
And make me, of three hundred bowls, one long drink!
To the old master, Tsen,
And the young scholar, Tan-chiu,
Bring in the wine!
Let your cups never rest!
Let me sing you a song!
Let your ears attend!
What are bell and drum, rare dishes and treasure?
Let me br forever drunk and never come to reason!
Sober men of olden days and sages are forgotten,
And only the great drinkers are famous for all time.
Prince Chen paid at a banquet in the Palace of Perfection
Ten thousand coins for a cask of wine, with many a laugh and quip.
Why say, my host, that your money is gone?
Go and buy wine and we'll drink it together!
My flower-dappled horse,
My furs worth a thousand,
Hand them to the boy to exchange for good wine,
And we'll drown away the woes of ten thousand generation!

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~ Li Bai, Bringing in the Wine
,
173:        In April
the air thick
with the smoky fragrance
      of wet blossoms
my friend and I exchange goodbyes
     at Yellow Crane Tower
as he departs
         downriver
                east to Yang-chou.

His lone sail
     fades from sight
         until a shadowy flicker
it sinks into the sky's
               limitless blue.

Then I see only
                 the great Yangtze
      pouring
             through Heaven's gates.
            
-
in Huangshan Poems from the T'ang Dynasty
(Cape Cod: 21st Editions, 2009)
This is one of several great Li Po poems on the T'ang subject of parting friends, whose vivid imagery and grand scale of space (resembling Chinese landscape painting) and whose depth of feeling have made it among the most famous and popular of T'ang Dynasty poems. Meng Hao-jan was the elder poet of the two men, the first great master of T'ang poetry. The poem recounts one leg in a long journey by Hao-jan for which Li Po traveled over a hundred miles to reach Yellow Crane Tower so that he could bid his friend farewell. Such were the bonds of friendship in Medieval China. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Farewell to Meng Hao-jan at Yellow Crane Tower by Li Po
,
174:When first my hair began to cover my forehead,
I picked and played with flowers before the gate.
You came riding on a bamboo horse,
And circled the walkway, playing with green plums.
We lived together, here in Changgan county,
Two children, without the least suspicion.
When I was fourteen, I became your wife,
So shy that still my face remained unopened.
I bowed my head towards the shadowed wall,
And called one thousand times, I turned not once.
At 15 I began to lift my brows,
And wished to be with you as dust with ashes.
You always kept your massive pillar faith,
I had no need to climb the lookout hill.
When I was sixteen, you went far away,
To Yanyudui, within the Qutang gorge.
You should not risk the dangerous floods of May,
Now from the sky, the monkeys cry in mourning.
Before the gate, my pacing's left a mark,
Little by little, the green moss has grown.
The moss is now too deep to sweep away,
And leaves fall in the autumn's early winds.
This August, all the butterflies are yellow,
A pair fly over the western garden's grass.
I feel that they are damaging my heart,
Through worrying, my rosy face grows old.
When you come down the river from Sanba,
Beforehand, send a letter to your home.
We'll go to meet each other, however far,
I'll come up to Changfengsha.
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~ Li Bai, Changgan Memories
,
175:   I with my hair in its first fringe
    Romped outside breaking flower-heads.
    You galloped by on bamboo horses.
    We juggled green plums round the well.
    Living in Chang-kan village,
    Two small people without guile.

    At fourteen I married you sir,
    So bashful I could only hide,
    My frowning face turned to the wall.
    Called after - never looking back.

    Fifteen before I learnt to smile.
    Yearned to be one with you forever.
    You to be the Ever-Faithful.
    I to not sit lonely, waiting.

    At sixteen you sir went away,
    Through White Kings Gorge, by Yen Rocks rapids,
    When the Yangtzes at its highest,
    Where the gibbons cried above you.

    Here by the door your last footprints,
    Slowly growing green mosses,
    So deep I cannot sweep them,
    Leaves so thick from winds of autumn.

    Septembers yellow butterflies
    Twine together in our west garden.
    What I feel it hurts the heart.
    Sadness makes my beauty vanish.

    When you come down from far places,
    Please will you write me a letter?
    As far as the farthest reaches,
    Ill come out to welcome you.
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~ Li Bai, The River-Captains Wife A Letter
,
176:The Dai horse neighs against the bleak wind of
    Etsu,
The birds of Etsu have no love for En, in the north,
Emotion is born out of habit.
Yesterday we went out of the Wild-Goose gate,
To-day from the Dragon-Pen.*
Surprised. Desert turmoil. Sea sun.
Flying snow bewilders the barbarian heaven.
Lice swarm like ants over our accoutrements.
Mind and spirit drive on the feathery banners.
Hard fight gets no reward.
Loyalty is hard to explain.
Who will be sorry for General Rishogu,
          the swift moving,
Whose white head is lost for this province?
*NOTE by Pound: "i. e., we have been warring from one end of the empire to the other, now east, now west, on each border."
  This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems
  The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.S. Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time."
   CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.
   CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, South-Folk in Cold Country
,
177:See the waters of the Yellow River leap down from Heaven, Roll away to the deep sea and never turn again! See at the mirror
in the High Hall Aged men bewailing white locks - In the morning, threads of silk, In the evening flakes of snow. Snatch the joys
of life as they come and use them to the full; Do not leave the silver cup idly glinting at the moon. The things that Heaven made
Man was meant to use; A thousand guilders scattered to the wind may come back again. Roast mutton and sliced beef will only
taste well If you drink with them at one sitting three hundred cups. Great Master Ts'en, Doctor Tan-ch'iu, Here is wine, do not
stop drinking But listen, please, and I will sing you a song. Bells and drums and fine food, what are they to me Who only want
to get drunk and never again be sober? The Saints and Sages of old times are all stock and still, Only the might drinkers of wine
have left a name behind. When the prince of Ch'en gave a feast in the Palace of P'ing-lo With twenty thousand gallons of wine
he loosed mirth and play. The master of the feast must not cry that his money is all spent; Let him send to the tavern and fetch
wine to keep our tankards filled. His five-flower horse and thousand-guilder coat - Let him call the boy to take them along and
pawn them for good wine, That drinking together we may drive away the sorrows of a thousand years.
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~ Li Bai, Chiang Chin Chiu
,
178:While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
  I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.
  You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
  You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
  And we went on living in the village of Chokan:
  Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.
  At fourteen I married My Lord you.
  I never laughed, being bashful.
  Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.
  Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.

  At fifteen I stopped scowling,
  I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
  Forever and forever and forever.
  Why should I climb the look out?

  At sixteen you departed,
  You went into far Ku-to-en, by the river of swirling eddies,
  And you have been gone five months.
  The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.

  You dragged your feet when you went out.
  By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,
  Too deep to clear them away!
  The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.
  The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
  Over the grass in the West garden;
  They hurt me. I grow older.
  If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
  Please let me know beforehand,
  And I will come out to meet you
     As far as Cho-fu-Sa.
Note: This is Pound's translation of a poem by the 8th century poet Li T'ai-Po -- such a free translation as to be a very different poem.] by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter
,
179:My hair had hardly covered my forehead.
I was picking flowers, paying by my door,
When you, my lover, on a bamboo horse,
Came trotting in circles and throwing green plums.
We lived near together on a lane in Ch'ang-kan,
Both of us young and happy-hearted.

...At fourteen I became your wife,
So bashful that I dared not smile,
And I lowered my head toward a dark corner
And would not turn to your thousand calls;
But at fifteen I straightened my brows and laughed,
Learning that no dust could ever seal our love,
That even unto death I would await you by my post
And would never lose heart in the tower of silent watching.

...Then when I was sixteen, you left on a long journey
Through the Gorges of Ch'u-t'ang, of rock and whirling water.
And then came the Fifth-month, more than I could bear,
And I tried to hear the monkeys in your lofty far-off sky.
Your footprints by our door, where I had watched you go,
Were hidden, every one of them, under green moss,
Hidden under moss too deep to sweep away.
And the first autumn wind added fallen leaves.
And now, in the Eighth-month, yellowing butterflies
Hover, two by two, in our west-garden grasses
And, because of all this, my heart is breaking
And I fear for my bright cheeks, lest they fade.

...Oh, at last, when you return through the three Pa districts,
Send me a message home ahead!
And I will come and meet you and will never mind the distance,
All the way to Chang-feng Sha.
Cf. Bynner's translation of this poem with Ezra Pound's differently-titled "The River Merchant's Wife: A Letter"--also found at All Poetry. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, A Song Of Changgan
,
180:Amongst the flowers I
am alone with my pot of wine
drinking by myself; then lifting
my cup I asked the moon
to drink with me, its reflection
and mine in the wine cup, just
the three of us; then I sigh
for the moon cannot drink,
and my shadow goes emptily along
with me never saying a word;
with no other friends here, I can
but use these two for company;

in the time of happiness, I
too must be happy with all
around me; I sit and sing
and it is as if the moon
accompanies me; then if I
dance, it is my shadow that
dances along with me; while
still not drunk, I am glad
to make the moon and my shadow
into friends, but then when
I have drunk too much, we
all part; yet these are
friends I can always count on
these who have no emotion
whatsoever; I hope that one day
we three will meet again,
deep in the Milky Way.

Version 2
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine,
No friends at hand, so I poured alone;
I raised my cup to invite the moon,
Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
Now the moon had never learned about drinking,
And my shadow had merely followed my form,
But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.

Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;
Drunk, then each went off on his own.
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.
Li Po was famous for his romantic poems of escape from reality through either his imagination or drinking wine. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes
7
~ Li Bai, Drinking Alone in the Moonlight
,
181: By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand,
Lonely from the beginning of time until now!
Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn.
I climb the towers and towers
           to watch out the barbarous land:
Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert.
There is no wall left to this village.
Bones white with a thousand frosts,
High heaps, covered with trees and grass;
Who brought this to pass?
Who has brought the flaming imperial anger?
Who has brought the army with drums and with

     kettle-drums?
Barbarous kings.
A gracious spring, turned to blood-ravenous autumn,
A turmoil of wars-men, spread over the middle

     kingdom,
Three hundred and sixty thousand,
And sorrow, sorrow like rain.
Sorrow to go, and sorrow, sorrow returning.
Desolate, desolate fields,
And no children of warfare upon them,
      No longer the men for offence and defence.
Ah, how shall you know the dreary sorrow at the

     North Gate,
With Riboku's name forgotten,
And we guardsmen fed to the tigers.







--Written by Li Po, translated into English by Ezra Pound
  This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems
  The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.S. Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time."
   CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.
   CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English. by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Lament of the Frontier Guard
,
182:I.

    Among the flowers a drink of wine.
    I sit alone without a friend.
    So I invite the moon,
    Then see my shadow, make us three.
    The moon cant know how to drink,
    Since just my shadow drinks with me.
    The moon brought shadow along
    To keep me silent company.
    Joy should reflect the season.
    I sing. That makes the Moon reel.
    Get up. Make my shadow sway.
    While Im here lets celebrate.
    When Im drunk each seek the Way,
    Tie ourselves to Eternal Journeys,
    Swear to meet again in the Milky Way.
  

                   II

    If the heavens were not in love with wine,
    Thered be no Wine Star in the sky.
    And if earth wasnt always drinking,
    Thered be nowhere called Wine Spring.
    Ive heard that pure wine makes the Sage.
    Even the cloudy makes us wise.
    If even the wise get there through drink,
    Whats the point of True Religions?
    Three times and I understand the Way,
    Six and Im one again with Nature.
    Only the things we know when were drunk
    Can never be expressed when were sober.

                       III

    Third month in Chang-an city,
    Knee-deep in a thousand fallen flowers.
    Alone in Spring who can stand this sadness?
    Or sober see transient things like these?
    Long life or short, rich or poor,
    Our destinys determined by the world.
    But drinking makes us one with life and death,
    The Myriad Things we can barely fathom.
    Drunk, Heaven and Earth are gone.
    Stilled, I clutch my lonely pillow.
    Forgetting that the Self exists,
    That is the minds greatest joy.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Three Poems on Wine
,
183:March has come to the bridge head,
Peach boughs and apricot boughs hang over a
     thousand gates,
At morning there are flowers to cut the heart,
And evening drives them on the eastward-flowing
     waters.
Petals are on the gone waters and on the going,
And on the back-swirling eddies,
But to-day's men are not the men of the old days,
Though they hang in the same way over the bridge-
     rail.

The sea's colour moves at the dawn
And the princes still stand in rows, about the throne,
And the moon falls over the portals of Sei-go-yo,
And clings to the walls and the gate-top.
With head gear glittering against the cloud and
     sun,
The lords go forth from the court, and into far
     borders.
They ride upon dragon-like horses,
Upon horses with head-trappings of yellow metal,
And the streets make way for their passage.
               Haughty their passing,
Haughty their steps as they go in to great banquets,
To high halls and curious food,
To the perfumed air and girls dancing,
To clear flutes and clear singing;
To the dance of the seventy couples;
To the mad chase through the gardens.
Night and day are given over to pleasure
And they think it will last a thousand autumns,
        Unwearying autumns.
For them the yellow dogs howl portents in vain,
And what are they compared to the Lady Riokushu,
        That was cause of hate!
Who among them is a man like Han-rei
        Who departed alone with his mistress,
With her hair unbound, and he his own skiffsman!
This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems
  The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.S. Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time."
   CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.
   CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Poem by The Bridge at Ten-Shin
,
184:The seafarers tell of the Eastern Isle of Bliss,
It is lost in a wilderness of misty sea waves.
But the Sky-land of the south, the Yueh-landers say,
May be seen through cracks of the glimmering cloud.
This land of the sky stretches across the leagues of heaven;
It rises above the Five Mountains and towers over the Scarlet Castle,

While, as if staggering before it, the Tien-tai Peak
Of forty-eight thousand feet leans toward the southeast.

So, longing to dream of the southlands of Wu and Yueh,
I flew across the Mirror Lake one night under the moon.

The moon in the lake followed my flight,
Followed me to the town of Yen-chi.
Here still stands the mansion of Prince Hsieh.
I saw the green waters curl and heard the monkeys shrill cries.
I climbed, putting on the clogs of the prince,
Skyward on a ladder of clouds,
And half-way up from the sky-wall I saw the morning sun,
And heard the heavens cock crowing in the mid-air.
Now among a thousand precipices my way wound round and round;
Flowers choked the path; I leaned against a rock; I swooned.

Roaring bears and howling dragons roused me
Oh, the clamorous waters of the rapids!
I trembled in the deep forest, and shuddered at the overhanging crags,
one heaped upon another.
Clouds on clouds gathered above, threatening rain;
The waters gushed below, breaking into mist.

A peal of blasting thunder!
The mountains crumbled.
The stone gate of the hollow heaven
Opened wide, revealing
A vasty realm of azure without bottom,
Sun and moon shining together on gold and silver palaces.

Clad in rainbow and riding on the wind,
The ladies of the air descended like flower, flakes;
The faery lords trooping in, they were thick as hemp-stalks in the fields.
Phoenix birds circled their cars, and panthers played upon harps.
Bewilderment filled me, and terror seized on my heart.
I lifted myself in amazement, and alas!
I woke and found my bed and pillow
Gone was the radiant world of gossamer.

So with all pleasures of life.
All things pass with the east-flowing water.
I leave you and go when shall I return?
Let the white roe feed at will among the green crags,
Let me ride and visit the lovely mountains!
How can I stoop obsequiously and serve the mighty ones!
It stifles my soul.



Li Po. Translated by: Shigeyoshi Obata

~ Li Bai, His Dream Of Skyland
,
185:This boat is of shato-wood, and its gunwales are
     cut magnolia,
Musicians with jewelled flutes and with pipes of gold
Fill full the sides in rows, and our wine
Is rich for a thousand cups.
We carry singing girls, drift with the drifting water,
Yet Sennin needs
A yellow stork for a charger, and all our seamen
Would follow the white gulls or ride them.
Kutsu's prose song
Hangs with the sun and moon.

King So's terraced palace
                   is now but barren hill,
But I draw pen on this barge
Causing the five peaks to tremble,
And I have joy in these words
                   like the joy of blue islands.
(If glory could last forever
Then the waters of Han would flow northward.)

And I have moped in the Emperor's garden, await-
    ing an order-to-write !
I looked at the dragon-pond, with its willow-
    coloured water
Just reflecting the sky's tinge,
And heard the five-score nightingales aimlessly singing.

The eastern wind brings the green colour into the
     island grasses at Yei-shu,
The purple house and the crimson are full of Spring
     softness.
South of the pond the willow-tips are half-blue and
     bluer,
Their cords tangle in mist, against the brocade-like
     palace.
Vine-strings a hundred feet long hang down from
     carved railings,
And high over the willows, the fine birds sing to
     each other, and listen,
CryingKwan, Kuan,' for the early wind, and the
     feel of it.
The wind bundles itself into a bluish cloud and
     wanders off.
Over a thousand gates, over a thousand doors are
     the sounds of spring singing,

And the Emperor is at Ko.
Five clouds hang aloft, bright on the purple sky,
The imperial guards come forth from the golden
     house with their armour a-gleaming.
The Emperor in his jewelled car goes out to inspect
     his flowers,
He goes out to Hori, to look at the wing-flapping
     storks,
He returns by way of Sei rock, to hear the new
     nightingales,
For the gardens at Jo-run are full of new nighting-
     gales,
Their sound is mixed in this flute,
Their voice is in the twelve pipes here.


This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems
  The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.S. Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time."
   CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.
   CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, The River Song
,
186:To So-Kin of Rakuyo, ancient friend, Chancellor of
    Gen.

Now I remember that you built me a special tavern
By the south side of the bridge at Ten-Shin.
With yellow gold and white jewels, we paid for songs
    and laughter
And we were drunk for month on month, forget-

    ting the kings and princes.
Intelligent men came drifting in from the sea and
    from the west border,
And with them, and with you especially
There was nothing at cross purpose,
And they made nothing of sea-crossing or of

    mountain-crossing,
If only they could be of that fellowship,
And we all spoke out our hearts and minds, and
     without regret.
     And then I was sent off to South Wei,
          smothered in laurel groves,
And you to the north of Raku-hoku,
Till we had nothing but thoughts and memories in
     common.
     And then, when separation had come to its worst,
We met, and travelled into Sen-Go,
Through all the thirty-six folds of the turning and
     twisting waters,
Into a valley of the thousand bright flowers,
That was the first valley;
And into ten thousand valleys full of voices and

    pine-winds.
And with silver harness and reins of gold,
Out come the East of Kan foreman and his

    company.
And there came also the True man of Shi-yo to

    meet me,
Playing on a jewelled mouth-organ.
In the storied houses of San-Ko they gave us more
    Sennin music,
Many instruments, like the sound of young phoenix
    broods.
The foreman of Kan Chu, drunk, danced
    because his long sleeves wouldn't keep still
With that music playing,
And I, wrapped in brocade, went to sleep with my
    head on his lap,
And my spirit so high it was all over the heavens,
And before the end of the day we were scattered
    like stars, or rain.
I had to be off to So, far away over the waters,
You back to your river-bridge.

And your father, who was brave as a leopard,
Was governor in Hei Shu, and put down the bar-

     barian rabble.
And one May he had you send for me,
          despite the long distance.
And what with broken wheels and so on, I won't

     say it wasn't hard going,
Over roads twisted like sheep's guts.
And I was still going, late in the year,
          in the cutting wind from the North,
And thinking how little you cared for the cost,
          and you caring enough to pay it.
And what a reception:
Red jade cups, food well set on a blue jewelled table,
And I was drunk, and had no thought of returning.
And you would walk out with me to the western

     corner of the castle,
To the dynastic temple, with water about it clear
     as blue jade,
With boats floating, and the sound of mouth-

    organs and drums,
With ripples like dragon-scales, going grass green

    on the water,
Pleasure lasting, with courtezans, going and coming
     without hindrance,
With the willow-flakes falling like snow,
And the vermilioned girls getting drunk

     about sunset,
And the water, a hundred feet deep, reflecting green
     eyebrows
--Eyebrows painted green are a fine sight in young
     moonlight,
Gracefully painted--
And the girls singing back at each other,
Dancing in transparent brocade,
And the wind lifting the song, and interrupting it,
Tossing it up under the clouds.
           And all this comes to an end.
           And is not again to be met with.
I went up to the court for examination,
Tried Layu's luck, offered the Choyo song,
And got no promotion,
           and went back to the East Mountains
               white-headed.
And once again, later, we met at the South bridge-

     head.
And then the crowd broke up, you went north to
     San palace,
And if you ask how I regret that parting:
     It is like the flowers falling at Spring's end
         Confused, whirled in a tangle.
What is the use of talking, and there is no end of

     talking,
There is no end of things in the heart.
I call in the boy,
Have him sit on his knees here
           To seal this,
And send it a thousand miles, thinking.


  This poem is from CATHAY (London: Elkin Mathews, 1915), the volume of Chinese poems
  The book's widely-applauded publication prompted T.S. Eliot to remark that Pound had "reinvented Chinese poetry for our time."
   CATHAY is comprised of 18 translations of various early Chinese poems, eleven poems by T'ang Dynasty poet Li Po ("Rihaku"), and the Anglo-Saxon poem, "The Seafarer," which Pound included for timeline comparison of 8th-Century English poetry with 8th-Century Chinese poetry.
   CATHAY ranks among the most pivotal publications in the entire history of translation and of modern poetry in English.
   ~ Li Bai, Exile's Letter
,
187:financially and employed him as his unofficial secretary.
In March 768, he began his journey again and got as far as Hunan province,
where he died in Tanzhou (now Changsha) in November or December 770, in his
58th year. He was survived by his wife and two sons, who remained in the area
for some years at least. His last known descendant is a grandson who requested
a grave inscription for the poet from Yuan Zhen in 813.
Hung summarises his life by concluding that, "He appeared to be a filial son, an
affectionate father, a generous brother, a faithful husband, a loyal friend, a
dutiful official, and a patriotic subject."
Works
Criticism of ~ Du Fu



's works has focused on his strong sense of history, his moral
engagement, and his technical excellence.
History
Since the Song dynasty, critics have called ~ Du Fu



the "poet historian". The most
directly historical of his poems are those commenting on military tactics or the
successes and failures of the government, or the poems of advice which he wrote
to the emperor. Indirectly, he wrote about the effect of the times in which he
lived on himself, and on the ordinary people of China. As Watson notes, this is
information "of a kind seldom found in the officially compiled histories of the
era".
~ Du Fu



's political comments are based on emotion rather than calculation: his
prescriptions have been paraphrased as, "Let us all be less selfish, let us all do
what we are supposed to do". Since his views were impossible to disagree with,
his forcefully expressed truisms enabled his installation as the central figure of
Chinese poetic history.
Moral engagement
A second favourite epithet of Chinese critics is that of "poet sage" (?? shi shèng),
a counterpart to the philosophical sage, Confucius. One of the earliest surviving
works, The Song of the Wagons (from around 750), gives voice to the sufferings
of a conscript soldier in the imperial army, even before the beginning of the
rebellion; this poem brings out the tension between the need of acceptance and
fulfilment of one's duties, and a clear-sighted consciousness of the suffering
which this can involve. These themes are continuously articulated in the poems
on the lives of both soldiers and civilians which ~ Du Fu



produced throughout his
life.
Although ~ Du Fu



's frequent references to his own difficulties can give the
impression of an all-consuming solipsism, Hawkes argues that his "famous
compassion in fact includes himself, viewed quite objectively and almost as an
afterthought". He therefore "lends grandeur" to the wider picture by comparing it
to "his own slightly comical triviality".
~ Du Fu



's compassion, for himself and for others, was part of his general
broadening of the scope of poetry: he devoted many works to topics which had
previously been considered unsuitable for poetic treatment. Zhang Jie wrote that
for ~ Du Fu



, "everything in this world is poetry", and he wrote extensively on
subjects such as domestic life, calligraphy, paintings, animals, and other poems.
Technical excellence
~ Du Fu



's work is notable above all for its range. Chinese critics traditionally used
the term txt (jídàchéng- "complete symphony"), a reference to Mencius'
description of Confucius. Yuan Zhen was the first to note the breadth of ~ Du Fu



's
achievement, writing in 813 that his predecessor, "united in his work traits which
previous men had displayed only singly". He mastered all the forms of Chinese
poetry: Chou says that in every form he "either made outstanding advances or
contributed outstanding examples". Furthermore, his poems use a wide range of
registers, from the direct and colloquial to the allusive and self-consciously
literary. This variety is manifested even within individual works: Owen identifies
the, "rapid stylistic and thematic shifts" in poems which enable the poet to
represent different facets of a situation, while Chou uses the term "juxtaposition"
as the major analytical tool in her work. ~ Du Fu



is noted for having written more
on poetics and painting than any other writer of his time. He wrote eighteen
poems on painting alone, more than any other Tang poet. ~ Du Fu



's seemingly
negative commentary on the prized horse paintings of Han Gan ignited a
controversy that has persisted to the present day.
The tenor of his work changed as he developed his style and adapted to his
surroundings ("chameleon-like" according to Watson): his earliest works are in a
relatively derivative, courtly style, but he came into his own in the years of the
rebellion. Owen comments on the "grim simplicity" of the Qinzhou poems, which
mirrors the desert landscape; the works from his Chengdu period are "light, often
finely observed"; while the poems from the late Kuizhou period have a "density
and power of vision".
Influence
According to the Encyclopædia Britannica, ~ Du Fu



's writings are considered by
many literary critics to be among the greatest of all time, and it states "his
dense, compressed language makes use of all the connotative overtones of a
phrase and of all the intonational potentials of the individual word, qualities that
no translation can ever reveal."
In his lifetime and immediately following his death, ~ Du Fu



was not greatly
appreciated. In part this can be attributed to his stylistic and formal innovations,
some of which are still "considered extremely daring and bizarre by Chinese
critics." There are few contemporary references to him—only eleven poems from
six writers—and these describe him in terms of affection, but not as a paragon of
poetic or moral ideals. ~ Du Fu



is also poorly represented in contemporary
anthologies of poetry.
However, as Hung notes, he "is the only Chinese poet whose influence grew with
time", and his works began to increase in popularity in the ninth century. Early
positive comments came from Bai Juyi, who praised the moral sentiments of
some of ~ Du Fu



's works (although he found these in only a small fraction of the
poems), and from Han Yu, who wrote a piece defending ~ Du Fu



and Li Bai on
aesthetic grounds from attacks made against them. Both these writers showed
the influence of ~ Du Fu



in their own poetic work. By the beginning of the 10th
century, Wei Zhuang constructed the first replica of his thatched cottage in
Sichuan.
It was in the 11th century, during the Northern Song era that ~ Du Fu



's reputation
reached its peak. In this period a comprehensive re-evaluation of earlier poets
took place, in which Wang Wei, Li Bai and ~ Du Fu



came to be regarded as
representing respectively the Buddhist, Daoist and Confucian strands of Chinese
culture. At the same time, the development of Neo-Confucianism ensured that
~ Du Fu



, as its poetic exemplar, occupied the paramount position. Su Shi famously
expressed this reasoning when he wrote that ~ Du Fu



was "preeminent...
because... through all his vicissitudes, he never for the space of a meal forgot his
sovereign". His influence was helped by his ability to reconcile apparent
opposites: political conservatives were attracted by his loyalty to the established
order, while political radicals embraced his concern for the poor. Literary
conservatives could look to his technical mastery, while literary radicals were
inspired by his innovations. Since the establishment of the People's Republic of
China, ~ Du Fu



's loyalty to the state and concern for the poor have been
interpreted as embryonic nationalism and socialism, and he has been praised for
his use of simple, "people's language".
~ Du Fu



's popularity grew to such an extent that it is as hard to measure his
influence as that of Shakespeare in England: it was hard for any Chinese poet not
to be influenced by him. While there was never another ~ Du Fu



, individual poets
followed in the traditions of specific aspects of his work: Bai Juyi's concern for the
poor, Lu You's patriotism, and Mei Yaochen's reflections on the quotidian are a
few examples. More broadly, ~ Du Fu



's work in transforming the lushi from mere
word play into "a vehicle for serious poetic utterance" set the stage for every
subsequent writer in the genre.
~ Du Fu



has also been influential beyond China, although in common with the other
High Tang poets, his reception into the Japanese literary culture was relatively
late. It was not until the 17th century that he was accorded the same level of
fame in Japan as in China, but he then had a profound influence on poets such as
Matsuo Basho. In the 20th century, he was the favourite poet of Kenneth
Rexroth, who has described him as "the greatest non-epic, non-dramatic poet
who has survived in any language", and commented that, "he has made me a
better man, as a moral agent and as a perceiving organism".
A Homeless Man's Departure
After the Rebellion of 755, all was silent wasteland,
gardens and cottages turned to grass and thorns.
My village had over a hundred households,
but the chaotic world scattered them east and west.
No information about the survivors;
the dead are dust and mud.
I, a humble soldier, was defeated in battle.
I ran back home to look for old roads
and walked a long time through the empty lanes.
The sun was thin, the air tragic and dismal.
I met only foxes and raccoons,
their hair on end as they snarled in rage.
Who remains in my neighborhood?
One or two old widows.
A returning bird loves its old branches,
how could I give up this poor nest?
In spring I carry my hoe all alone,
yet still water the land at sunset.
The county governor's clerk heard I'd returned
and summoned me to practice the war-drum.
This military service won't take me from my state.
I look around and have no one to worry about.
It's just me alone and the journey is short,
but I will end up lost if I travel too far.
Since my village has been washed away,
near or far makes no difference.
I will forever feel pain for my long-sick mother.
I abandoned her in this valley five years ago.
She gave birth to me, yet I could not help her.
We cry sour sobs till our lives end.
In my life I have no family to say farewell to,
so how can I be called a human being?
~ Du Fu,

IN CHAPTERS [0/0]









WORDNET














IN WEBGEN [10000/473]

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https://imperialism.fandom.com/wiki/Game_development
https://k12.fandom.com/wiki/Main_Page/game_development
https://tig.fandom.com/wiki/List_of_Indie_Game_Developers
https://wikis.fandom.com/wiki/Game_Dev_Story_Wiki
https://wowwiki-archive.fandom.com/wiki/In-game_developer_guilds
D-Frag! -- -- Brain's Base -- 12 eps -- Manga -- Game Comedy School Seinen -- D-Frag! D-Frag! -- The Kazama Family—a gang of three wannabe delinquents and close friends, spearheaded by Kenji Kazama, is trying to make a name for themselves at Fujou Academy. On the first day of the term, the gang finds themselves putting out a fire in the Game Development Club. Instead of thanking them, the eccentric club members attack and knock out Kenji's two friends, forcing Kenji to fight for his life. Failing to escape, the gang leader is coerced into joining the Game Development Club. -- -- As he settles in, Kenji gets to know the four girls responsible for his provisional membership—student council president and general tyrant Chitose Karasuyama, spirited tomboy Sakura Mizukami, negligent club advisor Minami Oosawa, and the school's infamous shadow leader Roka Shibasaki. Throughout the Game Development Club's constant shenanigans and his desperate attempts to leave the club, Kenji begins to realize that he may be actually enjoying himself. -- -- -- Licensor: -- Funimation -- TV - Jan 7, 2014 -- 323,530 7.56
D-Frag! -- -- Brain's Base -- 12 eps -- Manga -- Game Comedy School Seinen -- D-Frag! D-Frag! -- The Kazama Family—a gang of three wannabe delinquents and close friends, spearheaded by Kenji Kazama, is trying to make a name for themselves at Fujou Academy. On the first day of the term, the gang finds themselves putting out a fire in the Game Development Club. Instead of thanking them, the eccentric club members attack and knock out Kenji's two friends, forcing Kenji to fight for his life. Failing to escape, the gang leader is coerced into joining the Game Development Club. -- -- As he settles in, Kenji gets to know the four girls responsible for his provisional membership—student council president and general tyrant Chitose Karasuyama, spirited tomboy Sakura Mizukami, negligent club advisor Minami Oosawa, and the school's infamous shadow leader Roka Shibasaki. Throughout the Game Development Club's constant shenanigans and his desperate attempts to leave the club, Kenji begins to realize that he may be actually enjoying himself. -- -- TV - Jan 7, 2014 -- 323,530 7.56
Gin no Guardian -- -- Haoliners Animation League -- 12 eps -- Web manga -- Adventure Fantasy -- Gin no Guardian Gin no Guardian -- High school student and gamer Suigin Riku attends the prestigious Shinryou Private Academy, a school for the elite and the children of the wealthy. But rich or wealthy are not words that describe Suigin; in fact, he is dirt poor and must work many part time jobs to pay for his tuition. During one such job, he dives into a pool to save his pet cat, fully aware that he cannot swim. Luckily, he is saved by Rei Riku, the beautiful and popular daughter of a game developer, and he falls in love with her. -- -- He is also drawn to another girl: a new friend he meets in Dungeon Century, his favorite online RPG. But when the game is scheduled to shut down, he knows his adventures with her will soon end. However, the day after the game is shut down, he finds out that Rei and the online girl are one and the same. Soon after, Rei gives Suigin a new game meant to replace Dungeon Century—a tomb raiding game called Grave Buster. But when Rei is suddenly kidnapped, Suigin is pulled inside Grave Buster to save her. -- -- Gin no Guardian follows Suigin as he plays through Grave Buster to save Rei, while uncovering the secrets hidden within the game. -- -- -- Licensor: -- Funimation -- 90,940 6.24
https://wiki.archlinux.org/index.php/List_of_applications#Game_development
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Images_from_the_Game_Developers_Conference
Athena (game developer)
Australian Game Developers Conference
Brian Green (game developer)
Chris Roberts (video game developer)
David Jones (video game developer)
David Perry (game developer)
Draft:Nana Moon (game developer)
EGames (video game developer)
EIM (video game developer)
French Bread (game developer)
Future Games (video game developer)
Game developer
Game Developer (magazine)
Game Developers Choice Awards
Game Developers Conference
Game development tool
HYDRA Game Development Kit
International Game Developers Association
International Game Developers Conference
Johan Andersson (game developer)
Ken Levine (game developer)
Ken Williams (game developer)
List of indie game developers
List of video game developers
Magnetic Fields (video game developer)
Mike O'Brien (game developer)
Mike Perry (game developer)
New Zealand Game Developers Association
Russian Game Developers Conference
Sidhe (game developer)
The Independent Game Developers' Association
Tim Sweeney (game developer)
Video game developer
Video game development
ZUN (video game developer)



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