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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?
