272
farewell to two scholars

what is it to write,
to fashion culture?

qi of the hearts of sages
no less

the happy heart stands straight as a pine
when the mind’s in a mess
all your writing’s dishevelled

Dong Ting is not of this world
the way there is all illusion
guests go mid-month

sails fill with wind, flow out of the sky
fish and dragons leap from the water
what colourful waves they make

see shrubs and trees outlined in the jade stream
the monsters are terrible
none of them know how high the sky

yet with sincerity
true qi of sage heart
there are no creatures but we may tame
once having given each to its name


273
the high monk off for his re-education

one leaves the borders of Wu deep in waves
the hill of Chu reached, evening glows

three rounds the leaves and clouds have crept

his poems praise cloud, jade the same
how lotus like, how pure his dao

people laugh at those who drift with the tide
forgetting the depths of the pine


274
portrait of the priest coming into the mountain

at leisure a heart like the lonely crane’s
years of wisdom more than these tall pines

far from all haunts
how the stream tumbles here

all the way down

as snow is my rice
the white cloud my field

speak quietly that the heart might lift
receive the sage trace of his height


275
a farewell to my favourite Daoist

the orchid spring laps at my robe
a pure moon lives in my heart

clear green tea, a clean soft voice
heart smiling proof against the way


276
is the Daoist heavier than air?

head clapped with halves of moon
his shoulders cloud sabled

bones pine light allow him flight
heart crane high he soars

one string of cash
in the mind’s eye

he’d crash


277
seeing off an uncle east, he having passed his examination

in Changan roads for horses and carts
tall willows make floating shelter

a thousand hearts, ten thousand – all
for fame and gain are gone… why not?

yellow cranes are all for distance
the sea has no margin to spare

the ebb of the ocean is never quite silence
hear the chanting draws us back

a mantra’s made out of the breeze
falling flowers adorn conversation

bird and fish: their ways must part
one soars, the other sinks


278
going south to look for his brothers

spring colours the ground
suggesting a poem

in hand a piece of precious moon
words as from holy eminence

turnings of the river
like the turnings of the heart

the water runs a thousand miles
all along the verdant valley

to his wild geese brothers
this old lame duck


279
one day in spring

no more to be thought
grass grows – it’s said

listen to the military man by the barracks
one stirring word, see heroes cringe

zither of Chu scares the south geese
such are the facts as I see them

the seaside in the city
sun and cloud are one

with wine the view’s more beautiful
let me recite something embellishing…

passing the Sui dike, willows are withered
come through the dense beds of Luo flowers
colourful shirt, I won’t be seen

still sorry for that bird’s worn feathers
how sad to leave tracks
when your future’s so high


280
an uncle parting for the south

roots of the winter grass not quite dead
sad hearts have certainly withered

the view over water is all day in changes
to reach the sky – how long, how far

human lives follow the dawn and the sunset
we’re driven by sun and moon to go on

north to the mountains
south to the sea

thank the party
for this fine road and fast car


281
looking forward to your long career in the army

the ambitious man
wants to seem thankful
changes his clothes
but keeps the old skin

still friends and relatives
form new impressions
old students and servants
admire him now

with books at home
a sword abroad
what a beautiful stone at his head!

I’m only kidding
that wasn’t you…

just look at the dust where the army has been
the enemy baffled
but isn’t it obvious?
standing mid flags and drums
head high
the dragon is too
too smart to fight

was it not something you whispered?

such sage advice makes ministers
the kind who last from reign to reign