A fisherman journeying along a stream
I always loved to walk the woods and mountains
I built my house near where others live
In the summer grass and trees have grown.
Slowly autumn comes to an end.
Young, I was always free of common feeling
A fisherman floated on, enjoying Spring
Alone, at peace, I close the door
Alone on the road to the border
At daybreak I head for Pa Pass
Back again to this place of refuge
Ching River’s rocks show white
Every way the emerald trees’ shadows
Fireflies flash on mica screens
How can we break out of the net
I have a place on the Chungnan slopes
I sweep the dust from ancient lines and read
In these quiet years growing calmer
Middle-aged now, following the Way
Never to see that true friend again
Not knowing where the temple was
On the stone ledge above the water
Once a tiny child now an old man
September skies are clear to the distance
Sitting alone among dark bamboo
This month the weather has been bright and clear
To reach the Yellow-Flowered River
Tonight he walks with his light stick
Up through bamboo. Leave the First Stage
We follow you home to the Mountain
Among the flowers a drink of wine
At evening I make it down the mountain
Did Chuang Chou dream he was the butterfly?
Gold painted jars - wines worth a thousand
I climbed west on Incense Cloud Peak
I with my hair in its first fringe
Life is a dream. No need to stir
Misted the flowers weep as light dies
Mountain flowers open in our faces
My friend lives high on East Mountain
On jade stairs the white of dewfall
On Soochow’s terrace the crows find their nests
Peach-tree flowers over rising waters
Remember how Tung built us a place to drink in
We fought for Mulberry Springs
When we met the first time at Ch’ang-an
Wine-maker there by Yellow Fountains
You ask me why I live on Green Mountain
Bent grasses in slender breeze
Fallen States still have hills and streams
Frequently meeting in Palace of Ch’i.
Gone in a flash the bright flowers
Noise of wagons. Cry of Horses
North of here in the moonlight
Only as skies unfold, the ‘Flower in the Leaves’
Slowly we went on country roads
Southwards, northwards, the Spring waters
When Death divides us grief is smothered
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Last Modified 08/02/2000