Now through the white orchard my little dog
romps, breaking the new snow
with wild feet.
Running here running there, excited,
hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins
until the white snow is written upon
in large, exuberant letters,
a long sentence, expressing
the pleasures of the body in this world.
Oh, I could not have said it better
myself.
(Sung Landscape Poetry [CE 960-1127] translated by Amitendranath Tagore))
Mei Yao-ch’en - A Walk on Lu-shan Mountain
My longing for wilderness is satisfied.
Mountains all around, high and low.
There is variety in these wonderful peaks:
I walk alone and lose myself in the dark path.
Hoar frost falls and bears climb the trees.
An empty wood; deer drink from the stream.
Where do the people dwell?
A cock crows once from beyond the clouds.
Ou-yang Hsiu - Climbing the Center Peak of T’ai-shih Mountain
I tether my horse in the shadow of green pines:
In my straw sandals I walk along the green cliff.
Startled birds stir the forest flowers;
Empty hills echo the human voice.
Glow of clouds penetrating the dark mist
Is beyond my power to capture.
Su Shih - Climbing Yum-lung Mountain
Drunk, I walk along the Huang-mao cliff;
The whole cliff is strewn with boulders like flocks of sheep.
I scramble to the edge of the cliff by the stone seat;
Looking up I see white clouds filling the sky.
The sound of songs fall into the ravine, the autumn wind blows sharply.
The men on the path lift their heads and look towards the southeast;
Boisterous Shih-chun claps his hands and laughs loudly.
Su Ch’e - Huo-jan Pavilion
The city is in the south, the mountains in the north;
Every time I come here my spirit expands.
Blue tiles on a thousand houses freshly washed in rain;
Green pines in myriad gullies, fog just rising.
Throughout autumn I was ill in bed,
Listening to the sound of axes.
Today we ascend to the pavilion carrying our wine;
I request all of you to compose beautiful verses.
Allow me first to write this poem on the pavilion wall.
