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 river—alone in the moonlight.
TRANSLATED BY SHIGEYOSHI OBATA
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My friend is lodging high in the Eastern Range,
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 talkAre high-propped on a pillow of blue cloud.Li Potr. Waley
Peach-tree flowers over rising waters.
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 I’m back from exile in Yeh-lang,There I’ll transmute my bones to gold.
To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows,
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.
A wind, bringing willow-cotton, sweetens the shop,
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 eastIf it can travel farther than a friend’s love!
The courier will depart next day, she’s told.
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?
The old gardens of Kusu Terrace
that remain still put out new branches;lasses gathering water chestnutssing so loudly and with suchclarity, that the feeling of springreturns to us; but where once stoodthe palace of the King of Wu, nowonly the moon over thewest river once shone onthe lovely ladies there.