For Marissa Jones - Literature

Poems of Li Bai Old Poem #9 Zhuangzhou dreaming Zhuangzhou dreamed he became a butterfly, Or did the butterfly become Zhuangzhou? With ease, one body turns into another— Passing from change to change, all things flow. Water that lapped the fairies’ eastern island Returns in a stream running clear and shallow. The farmer planting his melons past Green Gate Ruled as Duke of Dongling not long ago. Seekers of wealth and power, surely you know Your vain posing is just a shadow show. The Meaning of Life Revealed Upon Waking Up Drunk on a Spring Day Life in this world is just a glorious dream, So why should we sweat and toil our lives away? Be lazy—pour some wine, always stay drunk Like me, laid out here on the porch all day Till I woke up, and spied among the courtyard’s Blossoming flowers one small songbird at play. “Little friend,” I asked, “Kindly tell me the season!” The wandering warbler sang on the breeze of May— Spring already! I could only heave a sigh, Pour some more wine, and down it without delay. Then loudly I sang, awaiting bright moonrise. My song has ended—what did I mean to say? Song of Changgan Back when my hair barely covered my forehead I was picking flowers in front of the gate. You rode over, whipping your bamboo horse With green plum branch, chasing me round the bed Together we lived and played in Changgan village, Two small innocents who saw no shadows. At fourteen, my husband, I became your wife. A bashful girl who never laughed, I closed Myself to you, set my face to a wall. A thousand calls! I wouldn’t turn my head. Fifteen—a smile—brows unknit, I wished My ashes mixed with those of him I wed. I thought you’d wait in a rising river for me— Why need I peer from a tower, on my toes? Sixteen—I watched you leave on a long journey. A boat through Qutang Gorge in June must thread The needle to dodge the underwater rocks While gibbons tell the far heavens their sorrows. Traces you left are still in front of the gate; But now in every footprint green moss grows, Moss that’s too deep to sweep it all away. Leaves fall in early winds that blow this autumn. September’s here; the butterflies are yellow. Pair by pair they fly above West Garden. It hurts to watch it all. My heart is aching. I sit and grieve, my face a fading blossom. Whenever it’s time to start your trip back home, Write me to say you’ve left those faraway lands— I’ll run to meet you, run as far as I can, Even all the way to Changfeng Sands. Gazing Upon the Ruins at Yue The king of Yue defeated Wu, came home in a grand parade, and all his noble warriors dressed in robes of rich brocade, And all the ladies, delicate flowers, adorned Spring Palace here. All gone now. Partridges take flight; wings beat the air, then fade. Originally published in Facing the Moon: Poems of Li Bai and Du Fu, translated by Keith Holyoak (Oyster River Press, 2007). Reprinted with permission.