May 10
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The birds have vanished into the sky,
and now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.
Li Po 李白, translated by Sam Hamill
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Unknown credit
The birds have vanished into the sky,
and now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.
Li Po 李白, translated by Sam Hamill
You ask why I make my home in the mountain forest, and I smile, and am silent, and even my soul remains quiet: it lives in the other world which no one owns. The peach trees blossom, The water flows. Li Po
My thoughts on this .. The mountains, the river and nature .. they all depict a silent cacophony of birth and death, of blossoming and shedding, of flowing and ceasing.. Each the very other.. I am everywhere yet nowhere, I am everything yet nothing.. A lot of this is quite similar to the writings in our Indian scriptures.. especially in the various discourses between Krsna and Arjun…
Li Po (also transliterated as Li Pai or Li Bai) was raised in Szechwan in western China. He traveled widely throughout China in his life.
Li Po’s poetry is particularly known for its elegance. It suggests a certain serene poise in relationship to the world and the quiet mind observing it.
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“Content to leave that peopled world forever.”
Li Po, from Mountain Home: The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China
“…the heart grows rich with idleness”
Li Po, from Mountain Home: The Wilderness Poetry of Ancient China
Bebiendo solo a la luz de la luna: by Li Po
Entre las flores, un tazón de vino
bebo solo, ningún amigo está cerca.
Levanto mi copa, invito a la luna
y a mi sombra, y ahora somos tres.
Mas la luna nada sabe de bebidas
y mi sombra se limita a imitarme,
pero así y todo, luna y sombra serán mi compañía.
La primavera es época propicia para el goce.
Canto y la luna prolonga su presencia,
bailo y mi sombra se enreda.
Mientras me mantengo sobrio, somos alegres juntos,
cuando me embriago, cada uno marcha por su lado
jurando encontrarnos en el Río de Plata de los cielos.
A MI AMOR LEJANO: by Li Po
II
¿Dónde está mi pabellón verde?
Está entre las nubes azules.
Un río de otoño cuelga
de su mágico espejo.
La brisa de primavera
agita mi traje de seda.
Bien ataviado, me siento
frente al sol poniente.
Melancólico, contemplo
mi alcoba solitaria.
Te envío mis añoranzas en una carta;
si pudiéramos ser una pareja de aves
que vuelen siempre juntas.
VI
El río Chu me separa de ti.
Las hierbas de la primavera
reverdecen las riberas del río Amarillo.
Mis nostalgias no cesan de día ni de noche.
Impetuosas, se convierten en olas
que se precipitan hacia la mar.
Anhelo verte,
pero no puedo.
Tengo que conformarme con enviarte, a ti,
mi lejana belleza, una lágrima.
XI
Cuando estabas, las flores llenaban la casa.
Al irte, dejaste el lecho vacío.
La manta bordada, doblada,
permanece intacta.
Tres años ya han transcurrido,
pero tu fragancia no se disipa.
Te añoro, y de los árboles caen hojas amarillas.
Lloro, y sobre el verde musgo brilla el rocío.
Li Po, from a poem titled "Written on a Top at Summit-Top Temple," featured in The Collected Poems of Li Po
Li Po, from a poem titled "Waiting for Wine that Does Not Come," featured in The Collected Poems of Li Po