PARTING WITH FRIENDS AT A
WINESHOP
IN NANKING
The wind blowing through the willow-flowers fills the shop with scent;
A girl of Wu has served wine and bids the traveller taste.
The wind blowing through the willow-flowers fills the shop with scent;
A girl of Wu has served wine and bids the traveller taste.
Li Po
I
clutched at the rocks, and all was dark.
[43] Hsieh Ling-yun (_circa_ A. D. 400) was a famous mountain-climber
who invented special mountain-climbing shoes.
[44] A quotation from one of Hsieh's poems.
The roaring of bears and the singing of dragons echoed amid the stones
and streams. The darkness of deep woods made me afraid. I trembled at
the storied cliffs.
The clouds hung dark, as though they would rain; the air was dim with
the spray of rushing waters.
Lightning flashed: thunder roared. Peaks and ridges tottered and broke.
Suddenly the walls of the hollow where I stood sundered with a crash,
and I looked down on a bottomless void of blue, where the sun and moon
gleamed on a terrace of silver and gold.
A host of Beings descended--Cloud-spirits, whose coats were made of
rainbow and the horses they rode on were the winds.
XV. 16.
PARTING WITH FRIENDS AT A WINESHOP IN NANKING
The wind blowing through the willow-flowers fills the shop with scent;
A girl of Wu has served wine and bids the traveller taste.
The young men of Nanking have come to see me off;
I that go and you that stay | must each drink his cup.
I beg you tell the Great River | whose stream flows to the East
That thoughts of you will cling to my heart | when _he_ has ceased
to flow.
XV. 28. AT CHIANG-HSIA, PARTING FROM SUNG CHIH-T'I
Clear as the sky the waters of Hupeh
Far away will join with the Blue Sea;
We whom a thousand miles will soon part
Can mend our grief only with a cup of wine.
The valley birds are singing in the bright sun;
The river monkeys wail down the evening wind.
And I, who in all my life have seldom wept,
Am weeping now with tears that will never dry.
XX. 1. THE WHITE RIVER AT NAN-YANG
Wading at dawn the White River's source,
Severed a while from the common ways of men,
To islands tinged with the colours of Paradise,
Where the river sky drowns in limpid space.
While my eyes were watching the clouds that travel to the sea.
My heart was idle as the fish that swim in the stream.
With long singing I put the sun to rest:
Riding the moon,[45] came back to my fields and home.
[45] _I. e.
clutched at the rocks, and all was dark.
[43] Hsieh Ling-yun (_circa_ A. D. 400) was a famous mountain-climber
who invented special mountain-climbing shoes.
[44] A quotation from one of Hsieh's poems.
The roaring of bears and the singing of dragons echoed amid the stones
and streams. The darkness of deep woods made me afraid. I trembled at
the storied cliffs.
The clouds hung dark, as though they would rain; the air was dim with
the spray of rushing waters.
Lightning flashed: thunder roared. Peaks and ridges tottered and broke.
Suddenly the walls of the hollow where I stood sundered with a crash,
and I looked down on a bottomless void of blue, where the sun and moon
gleamed on a terrace of silver and gold.
A host of Beings descended--Cloud-spirits, whose coats were made of
rainbow and the horses they rode on were the winds.
XV. 16.
PARTING WITH FRIENDS AT A WINESHOP IN NANKING
The wind blowing through the willow-flowers fills the shop with scent;
A girl of Wu has served wine and bids the traveller taste.
The young men of Nanking have come to see me off;
I that go and you that stay | must each drink his cup.
I beg you tell the Great River | whose stream flows to the East
That thoughts of you will cling to my heart | when _he_ has ceased
to flow.
XV. 28. AT CHIANG-HSIA, PARTING FROM SUNG CHIH-T'I
Clear as the sky the waters of Hupeh
Far away will join with the Blue Sea;
We whom a thousand miles will soon part
Can mend our grief only with a cup of wine.
The valley birds are singing in the bright sun;
The river monkeys wail down the evening wind.
And I, who in all my life have seldom wept,
Am weeping now with tears that will never dry.
XX. 1. THE WHITE RIVER AT NAN-YANG
Wading at dawn the White River's source,
Severed a while from the common ways of men,
To islands tinged with the colours of Paradise,
Where the river sky drowns in limpid space.
While my eyes were watching the clouds that travel to the sea.
My heart was idle as the fish that swim in the stream.
With long singing I put the sun to rest:
Riding the moon,[45] came back to my fields and home.
[45] _I. e.
