THE YOUTH REINS IN THE CHARGER, PERPLEXED.... A LAUGH, SWEET AND MUSICAL, RINGS FROM THE THICKET; NOW HE IS PERPLEXED NO MORE. [Li Po]
SEEING YOU OFF
BECAUSE YOU ARE OLD, BECAUSE YOU ARE LEAVING, MY HANDKERCHIEF IS WET WITH TEARS ... BECAUSE YOU ARE SEVENTY YEARS OLD AND HAVE NO HOME.
I AM UNEASY AS THE WIND RISES AND YOUR BOAT SAILS OFF ... WHITE-HEADED TRAVELER AMONG WHITE-HEADED WAVES. [Po Chu-i]
A LETTER HOME
YOU ASK ME: WHEN WILL I COME HOME? THERE IS NO DATE SETTLED YET. HERE, AT PA-SHAN IN AUTUMN, EVENING RAIN FLOODS THE HOLLOWS.
O FOR THE TIME WHEN WE CAN PUT OUT THE CANDLE TOGETHER BY THE WESTERN WINDOW ... O FOR THE TIME WHEN I CAN TELL YOU HOW I FEEL HERE TONIGHT AT PA-SHAN, WHEN AUTUMN RAIN FLOODS THE HOLLOWS. [Li-Shang-yin]
THE POET AND THE FLOOD
ICY WINDS SWEEP DOWN FROM THE MOUNTAINS AND RIP OUT THE TREES. PITILESS, THE FLOOD RISES IN THE RIVER DAY BY DAY. THERE IS NO MOUNTAIN NOW, OR FIELDS ... EVERYTHING IS FOG AND WATER.
ALL THE SAME, MY LATE CHRYSANTHEMUMS ARE IN BLOOM. WHEN YOU ROW PAST, YUNG-HI, SLOW YOUR BOAT IN FRONT OF MY GARDEN AND GAZE AT THEM ... THEIR HOT COLORS WILL RE-WARM YOUR HEART. [Tu Fu]