30
first full moon festival

Spring wind brings the fireworks
stars fall like rain

carved coaches pass drawn by noble steeds
a trail of perfume, flute music behind

dragons and fish all night at their dance
a crystal lantern hangs on the breeze

and more – jade moths, silver willows, gold threads
the talk and the laughter, the fair folk in crowds

the crowds passing, one face among them I must find
and there – in midnight’s fading lantern

there she is – and I’m found

31
song of a river city

bamboo and pine – the countryside
hear the cloud clad clan from high on their hill

everything stands up after the snow
leans towards blossom, Spring light

smell the grass by the stream
on the peach flower road

puts you in mind of the story you’re in
then swing past the wine shop

bring up a bottle, it keeps night’s cold out
the carriage that brought me seems to be sighing

white hair and pale face – such work to be old!
wine won’t restore youth but it makes words bold

32
autumns pass in their thousands

every day fit and well
the horses report

a birthday feast
shows the hero’s mettle

the city walls are strong enough
need neither mending nor support

time out for the jade
for the pearl raining sky

at peace
the emperor’s edict comes

first thing in the morning
this territory small

the army is vast
our cellar’s on wheels

let’s remain in the tent
strategy to discuss

33
butterflies

thirteen girls of springtime
learnt to embroider flowers thinner than real

wind and the rain had the better of them
now spent cloth like red carpet flies in the garden

spring is a frivolous wanderer
won’t stay, but won’t be told to go either

a pot of wine – and in it place flowers
good wine too

and willows for tears
in sight of the sea

34
just another wee dram?

let me pour you a glass
oh please say yes
speak well of me
as of all things, all others

look at this rakish beaker
well plied, leers and it ogles
vessels, vintages younger
warm, cool, each brimming truth

I drank a lot when I was young
and people said that I was stubborn
better to tell what they wanted to hear
with wine however there’s no need to flatter

I’m no good at words
‘fail them before they fail you’ I say
besides – I’d rather have wine in my mouth
give passion to things which can’t matter

35
Zhu Ying Tai closer

let us divide the hairpins between us
let’s part at the peach tree
willows in mist
the pavilion too far in this wind and rain
heartbreaking to see petals so strewn
only the orioles mourn them

flowers in temples
petals all numbered
I put back the hairpin to count days again
light dim in thin silk
sobbing in dreams
only Spring brings these worries

36
a thousand years his poetry lives

too old to get rich now
and if I were to
what good would it do?

life in a rice bowl
or wine warmed in cups?
the old hermits teach me the way

drink in my spare time
write poems while drunk
a thousand years scrimping

and saving, this clan will
never own the fields they till
look at this lazy nong of a nephew

hungrily waiting for uncle to fall
what good would I do by leaving a legacy?
better peasants drink to their ancestor – me







37
song of the fairy in the cave

he wants to dance by the southern stream
green the hills there with wonder

seagulls lie on the sandy bank
fishing boats set with the sun

Tao Qian teaches forgetting this world
and I will be a hermit

I will, just you watch
then let me set sail this once

over the salt vast
dirge of the waves

by poetry and wine I come
and all for the sake of a woman

38
sublime pleasures

black clouds to the ridge of the mountain attend
the tempest pours rain from the sky

trees and the sunset both lost to the storm
until there is nothing to picture

just a little imagination reveals
the green flag in pale light at the foot of the hill

tells me the wine shop’s now open
summer’s like this – a glorious vista

wake bamboos and pines
bring me my three treasures

in the dreaming mind
no bird too wild but visits






39
the river all red

stream and mountain peak pass through my eyes
all strangely and as I have somewhere remembered

time may have flown but I’ve been on foot
how many pairs of shoes make a life?

hardships have etched in my face more furrows
than this harsh sun ploughs

I go on
Wu and Chu – a river divides them

Cao Cao and Liu Bei
the west wind makes dust

the man building palaces
now narrow in tomb

in time it is only the fool
pledges trust