Li Po

Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows near the tower
Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs
In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl
Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words

Amongst the flowers Iam alone with my pot of winedrinking by myself; then liftingmy cup I asked the moonto drink with me, its reflectionand mine in the wine cup, justthe three of us; then I sighfor the moon cannot drink,and my shadow goes emptily ...

Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly,
And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking
Which was the real—the butterfly or the man
Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things

There was wine in a cup of goldand a girl of fifteen from Wu,her eyebrows painted darkand with slippers of red brocade
If her conversation was poor,how beautifully she could sing
Together we dined and drankuntil she settled in my arms

As the two of us drinktogether, while mountainflowers blossom beside, wedown one cup after the otheruntil I am drunk and sleepyso that you better go
Tomorrow if you feel like itdo come and bring your lutealong with you

Clouds bring back to mind her dress, the flowers her face
Winds of spring caress the rail where sparkling dew-drops cluster
If you cannot see her by the jewelled mountain top,
Maybe on the moonlit Jasper Terrance you will meet her

As down Mount Emerald at eve I came, The mountain moon went all the way with me
Backward I looked, to see the heights aflame With a pale light that glimmered eerily
A little lad undid the rustic latch As hand in hand your cottage we did ...

See how the Yellow River's water move out of heaven
Entering the ocean,never to return
See how lovely locks in bright mirrors in high chambers,
Though silken-black at morning, have changed by night to snow

The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped;
The colours of Spring teem on every side
With leaping fish the blue pond is full;
With singing thrushes the green boughs droop

A slip of the moon hangs over the capital;
Ten thousand washing-mallets are pounding;
And the autumn wind is blowing my heart For ever and ever toward the Jade Pass
Oh, when will the Tartar troops be conquered,

When first my hair began to cover my forehead,
I picked and played with flowers before the gate
You came riding on a bamboo horse,
And circled the walkway, playing with green plums

Amongst the grandeur of Hua ShanI climb to the Flower Peak,and fancy I see fairies and immortalscarrying lotus in theirsacred white hands, robes flowingthey fly filling the sky with colouras they rise to the palace of heaven,inviting me to go to t...