T'ao Yuan-ming
Blaming Sons
White hair shrouds both my temples,
my skin and flesh have lost their fullness.
Though I have five male children,
not a one of them loves brush and paper.
A-shu's already twice times eight -
in laziness he's never been rivaled.
A-hsuans's going on fifteen
but cares nothing for letters or learning.
Yung and Tuan are thirteen
and can't tell a 6 from a 7!
T'ung-tzu's approaching age nine -
all he does is hunt for chestnuts and pears.
If this is the luck Heaven sends me,
then pour me the "thing in the cup"! *
* wine
Motionless Clouds
"Motionless Clouds" expresses thoughts of a close friend. The wine cask is newly filled to brimming, the garden's just coming into bloom, but I can't be with the one I want, and I grieve 'till tears fall on my collar.
Heavy and dull, motionless clouds,
the seasonal rains drenching down;
all eight directions a single darkness,
all the level roads cut off.
Quietly I settle by the eastern eaves,
alone, fondling the milky spring wine.
My good friend is so far far away -
I scratch my head and go on waiting.
Motionless clouds dull and heavy,
these drenching seasonal rains;
all eight directions a single darkness,
all the flat land turned to rivers.
I have wine, I have wine,
idly drinking by the eastern window.
I think longingly of someone,
but no boat or carriage could get through.
Trees in the eatern garden,
branches beginning to flower,
outdoing each other in new beauty,
hoping to cheer my thoughts.
Just as people say,
the days and months now hurry onward;
how can I seat you by my side
where we can talk of those times now past?
Flutter flutter, birds on the wing,
they light on the limbs in my garden,
fold their wings, rest peacefully,
blending their beautiful cries.
Not that there are no others,
but I think kof you so very often.
With longings unfulfilled,
brooding on my sorrow, what shall I do?