No More Learning

Thinking what Ii? ve left behind me, How the noise of love is sweet!
312
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313
? A Visitor
Southwards, northwards, the Spring waters. Only flocks of gulls fly in each day.
The flowered pathi? s not yet swept for guests. The willow gate has opened first for you.
Iti? s simple food wei? re so far from the City.
In this poor house therei? s only stale rice-wine. If youi? re willing, I can call across the hedge. Drink it with an Old Neighbour of mine.
? 314
? For General Hua
All day long in Chi? I? ng-tu, Lute-strings, reed-pipes make music. Half of it lost - in the clouds,
Half of it lost - in the water.
But a song like this one
Is meant for the highest skies.
How often can
An ordinary mortal hear it?
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? 315
? For Wei Pa
All our days rarely meeting
Like those stars in their constellations,
This evening, what an evening,
Wei? ve shared the flickering candle.
Youth and power swiftly pass,
Hair on our heads is quickly white,
Half of those we knew have vanished,
Pain of that knowledge hurts us.
Whoi? d guess at twenty years,
Before your house saw my return?
Last time youi? d not even married.
Now suddenly sons and daughters
Come to cheerfully greet their fatheri? s friend. Start to ask where I come from.
But the conversationi? s halted
You send them off to fetch the wine-jar,
And pull spring onions in the rain,
Cook them now with yellow millet.
Saying e? Well, we so rarely meeti?
Fill my wine-cup ten times over,
Ten but still Ii? m not quite tipsy,
316
? ? Filled with feelings of deep friendship. Tomorrow the high mountains part us, Lost again in the world.
317
? Tu Fu to Ti? ao Chien - Across the Centuries
Gone in a flash the bright flowers. Old. How I wish they would stay! Why cani? t these present things Be back in our younger days? Drinking - sets free the mind. Writing - unfolds the heart.
We would meet, Ti? ao, in this thought, Though we cannot meet in Time.
? 318
? To Li Po
When Death divides us grief is smothered. Parted by Life iti? s endless sighs.
South of the River this landi? s poison. From you in exile no word comes.
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