50
water dragon chant 1

I looked up and saw clouds northwest
a unique sword is needed for enemies

mountain so high and so empty, so cold

I look up –
between herd boy and the weaving girl
a purple flame

bright moon and dim stars
an angry wind
and thunder far off

mountains are holding back
the green river

the sadness of empire’s thousand years
this sunset living in the fire

the mountain’s my anchor
a bamboo mat and a cool pot by

I’ll dream every empire away

51
water dragon chant 2

the horses of heaven
float back from the south
but how many are able
in administration?

the elders of the central plain
wish to attack the north
nothing changes

around the Prime Minister’s villa
the party goes on day and night
fragrance of flowers, songs
with birds singing, it’s always
‘let’s raise just this one more cup’

those officials meant
to protect the country
empty it of what’s worth saving

how efficient they are
the northern tribes will never come
knowing there’s not a thing left for them







52
god of cranes

the boat goes fast
too fast
and the boatman
steering us through
the three gorges
does his best
to look
at the passengers –
at least they’re
all more frightened
than him

the mountains here
like swords
or like halberds

south and north
of the stream
different races
rocks equally fanciful
either side

see fishermen, woodcutters
point at our flimsy craft
as if it were an event
sent to witness

one crane in still waters
receives all my prayers
eyes shut tight
still I lean with the railing
insides heave with
the churning out there

at last indeed we come to shore
stand tired around the one grand pot
how different the world is for survivors
the boatman no longer looks at each face

behind us all relics – happy and sad
all the past flashed by
with sunset now fading
last wings now turn the world
beyond dusk

in the south pagoda
we chant with the best
flutes are happiest
under such moons

can my heart still believe
what we passed through this day?

my face left brackish
with the river’s spray







53
god of water

I laugh at the water god
wonder what angers him

I laugh at the goddess
now amending the sky

no paths to follow
through this weed, this mist

I take a walking stick
to the dark green moss

was it I who asked for this wind
for this rain
for these thousand years?

the shepherd boys here
started a fire
sometimes oxen and sheep
will lock horns

spring on the rock
like a drop of fresh milk
now and then jade blossoms there

four, five pagodas
singing and dancing

water god, goddess
both laugh at me now

peasants call
‘don’t think too hard,
just join in’







54
old battles laid in the dust of town streets

where I come from
there’s a shortage of heroes
deeds of daring disperse in the wind

setting sun, grass, trees,
same old alleys – but they say
that once mailed horses, armour
flashed here – devouring like tigers
thousands of leagues

the emperor was unwise
to take on the mountain
failure and rout were his reward

half a century struck
in the drums of the temple
crows over head
circle the same








55
Spring comes beaming into the garden

all my life I’ve been broadminded
knew about the world
resentment between men and women

white hair won’t last long
time left is precious

one should live in the mountains
last days that way will be a dream
and one will slip away past evening
into the dawn of a world far other

nothing to resent there
one might well lament
but even in eternity
that would be time wasted

of course I am curious
to know my past lives
but why should any such
knowledge be shown me?

I have come to attend
to the words of the Buddha

friends on that high hill –
can you hear me?

I must be sure
not to remember

call back my soul
sing loudly for me







56
groping for fish

a few storms
the odd puff of Spring
dissolves in a rush
too soon the petals lie spent

Spring – can’t you stop here?
leaves of the tropics stand in your road
why can’t you speak?

it’s as if only the webs
spun under the eaves
can capture the catkin for me

depressing in the palace
once the wedding is postponed

to dust all this sadness
don’t go up the hill
don’t look at the willows

dusk will descend soon enough








57
congratulating the bride

I can’t help it but I’m getting old
I don’t travel much anymore
old friends are fewer
white hair is more
I laugh at the world’s thousand things

what is there makes an old man happy?
I look into green mountains
among them lies always the smile of a valley
the mountain and I this way alike

a glass of wine sat by the window looks east
waits for a friend to be guest
I think of Yuanming’s poem –
the motionless cloud –
that’s me now

those who wish to be famous
drink east of the river
discover deep meanings
in dregs of the wine

I turn my head now
to roar with the wind
I’ll never regret
having not met the heroes
I only regret they’re
not with me here now

they’d trip over my beard
if they came







58
song to the six states

I wake early
wondering how ill I am
I speak with the crane
who’s taken up residence
in a corner of the courtyard

crane – let me tell you
three things perplex me

nobody helps and old sick man
I planted the pines myself
they blocked the plum blossom cove
and the curved paths

they stand already a few feet high
elegant as dancers
they must be removed

in front of the autumn water hall
the lake is like a silver mirror
you can see your eyebrows in it

then a tempest comes on
and the world turns to mud
and my hut is among muddy ditches

green mountains my favourite
green bamboo outside the hut
the mountain is almost all bamboo
and so I must remove it
just to make the mountain be

I’d prefer to go without fish
than without bamboo

crane – let me tell you
it’s hard to keep control
you know what I mean

there’s medicine which makes us younger
but that won’t cure me
the only thing for it
is to join the mountain
and let the bamboo be