Difference between revisions of "Autumn Meditations"

Latest revision as of 16:33, 30 November 2016

Description

by Du Fu (anthology assembled by unknown editors in the late Shogunate Era).

A thick anthology containing the poems composed by Shogunate Era warrior Du Fu, mostly after he had retired from military service to the Shogun.

Contents

Many People Come to Visit and Bring Wine After I Fell Off My Horse, Drunk

I, Du Fu, the Shogun's elderly guest,

Finished my wine, drunkenly sang, and waved a golden halberd.

I mounted my horse and suddenly remembered my youthful days,

The flying hooves sent stones pouring down into Qutang gorge.

Vanchow's city gates are beyond the water's clouds,

Bending over, I plunged straight down eight thousand feet.

Whitewashed battlements passed like lightning, the purple reins were loose,

Then east, I reached the level ridge, out past heaven's cliff.

River villages and country halls vied to enter my eyes,

The whip hung down, the bridle drooped, I reached the purple road.

All the ten thousand people amazed by my silver head,

I trusted to the riding and shooting skills of my rosy-cheeked youth.

How could I know that bursting its chest, hooves chasing the wind,

That racing horse, red with sweat just like spurting jade,

Would unexpectedly take a tumble and end up injuring me?

In human life, taking pleasure often leads to shame.

That's why I'm feeling sad, lying on quilts and pillows,

Being in the sunset of my life only adds to the bother.

When I knew you'd come to visit, I wanted to hide my face,

With a bramble stick I manage to rise, leaning on a servant.

Then, after we've finished talking, we open our mouths and laugh,

Giving me support, you go and sweep by the clear stream's bend.

Wine and meat are piled up like mountains once again,

The feast starts: sad strings and brave bamboo sound out.

Together, we point to the western sun, not to be granted us long,

Noise and exclamations, then I tip the cup of clear wine.

Why did you have to hurry your horses, coming to ask after me?

Don't you remember Xi Kang, who nourished life and got killed?

For Scholar Wei

We've lived our lives and have not seen each other,

We've been just like the stars of Battles and Serenity.

Oh what an evening is this evening now,

Together in the light of this one lamp?

Young and vigorous for so short a time,

Already now we both have greying temples.

We ask of old friends, half of them now dead,

Your exclamation stirs up my own heart.

We did not know it would be a hundred years,

Before we met again inside your hall.

When we parted then, you were unmarried,

Suddenly boys and girls come in a row.

Happy and content, they respect their father's friend,

Asking me from which Direction I come.

And even before the question has been answered,

The boys and girls have gone to fetch the wine.

In the rainy night, they cut spring chives,

And mix the fresh cooked rice with golden millet.

My host says it's been hard for us to meet,

One draught's repeated, now becomes ten cups.

After ten cups, still I am not drunk,

It's your lasting friendship which is moving.

Tomorrow we'll be sundered by the hills,

Just two in a boundless world of human affairs.

First of my Meditations

Jade dew withers and wounds the groves of maple trees,

From the Mountain to Qutang Gorge, the air is dull and dreary.

On the Crane River surging waves rise to meet the sky,

Above the Road wind and cloud join the earth with darkness.

Chrysanthemum bushes open twice, weeping for their days,

A lonely boat, a single line, my heart is full of home.

Winter clothes everywhere are urgently cut and measured,

White Mist above, the evening's driven by beating on stones.

Sixth of my Meditations

The mouth of the Qutang Gorge, the bank of the Caracal River,

Ten thousand miles of wind and mist join them in pale autumn.

Through Calyx Hall's hidden passage the Shogunal aura passed,

Now the little Lotus Park is filled with border sorrows.

Pearls on curtains, embroidery on pillars, around the White Cranes,

From brocade hawsers and ivory masts rise the white gulls.

I turn my head, sad now for the place of song and dance,

Meru has been since olden days the land of kings.

In Late Sun, the River and Hills are Beautiful

In late Sun, the river and hills are beautiful,

The spring breeze bears the fragrance of flowers and grass.

The mud has thawed, and Swallows fly around,

On the warm sand, Mandarin Ducks are sleeping.

Spring Night in the Left Office

Flowers in shadow, palace wall at dusk,

Chirping birds are flying back to roost.

Stars move above the ten thousand doors;

The moon is big nearing the Vault of Heaven.

Not sleeping, I hear a golden key;

In the wind, I think there are jade pendants.

Tomorrow morning, I have to present a memorial,

Again and again, my thoughts are in this night.

At the Winding River

I come back from the court each day and pawn last season's clothing,

Every day I return to the river as drunk as I can be.

I have many debts for wine all over the place,

For soldiers to live so long has always been unusual.

I see the butterflies go deeper and deeper between the flowers,

And dragonflies in leisured flight between drops of water.

As we're told, passing time is always on the move,

So little time to know each other: we should not be apart.

Clearing Rain

The sky's water has fallen, and the season's clouds are thin,

The western wind has blown ten thousand miles.

This morning's scene is good and fine,

Long rain has not harmed the land.

The row of willows begins to show green,

The pear tree on the hill has little red flowers.

An Ascending Flute begins to play upstairs,

One Goose flies high into the sky.

A Guest Arrives

South of my hut, north of my hut, all is spring water,

A flock of gulls is all I see come each day.

The floral path has never been swept for a guest,

Today for the first time the rough gate opens for the gentleman.

Far from the market, my food has little taste,

My poor home can offer only stale and cloudy wine.

Consent to have a drink with my elderly neighbour,

At the fence I'll call him, then we'll finish it off.

Two Lantern Orioles Sing in the Green Willows

Two Lantern Orioles sing in the green willows,

A row of White Cranes against the blue sky.

The window frames the western hills' snow of a thousand autumns,

At the door is moored, from Deheleshen, a boat of ten thousand miles.

Enjoying Flowers Walking Alone on a Riverbank

Before Abbot Huang's pagoda, east of the river water,

Spring is bright and delicate in the gentle breeze.

One clump of peach blossom's opened, no-one to own it,

Is dark or light red more to be loved?

At Huang Si's house, flowers fill the path,

Myriad blossoms press the branches low.

Constantly dancing butterflies stay to play,

Unrestrained, the lovely orioles cry.

The Path is Paved with Poplar Catkins

The path is paved with poplar catkins, a carpet of white grain,

Lotus leaves on the little stream are piled like green coins.

Among the roots of new Bamboo, sprouts that no man has seen,

On the sand nearby, a duckling sleeps beside its mother.

Verse Found in My Cups on the Way to the West

One of the poems contained in Autumn Meditations, 'Verse Found in My Cups on the Way to the West’, is said to describe the former form of the Nacreous Fountain, before its reconstruction by the Chenow branch of House Sesus.