The Garden Of Bright Waters | Page 9

the silly world?Where our lips must lie apart.?We'll let death pour our souls?Into one cup,?And mount like joyous birds to God?With hearts on fire,?And God will mingle us into one shape?In an eternal garden of gold stars.
Love Ballad of the Caucasus.
CHINA
WE WERE TWO GREEN RUSHES
We were two green rushes by opposing banks,?And the small stream ran between.?Not till the water beat us down?Could we be brought together,?Not till the winter came?Could we be mingled in a frosty sleep,?Locked down and close.
_From the Chinese of J. Wing (nineteenth century)._
SONG WRITER PAID WITH AIR
I sit on a white wood box?Smeared with the black name?Of a seller of white sugar.?The little brown table is so dirty?That if I had food?I do not think I could eat.
How can I promise violets drunken in wine?For your amusement,?How can I powder your blue cotton dress?With splinters of emerald,?How can I sing you songs of the amber pear,?Or pour for the finger-tips of your white fingers?Mingled scents in a rose agate bowl?
_From the Chinese of J. Wing (nineteenth century)._
THE BAD ROAD
I have seen a pathway shaded by green great trees,?A road bordered by thickets light with flowers.
My eyes have entered in under the green shadow,?And made a cool journey far along the road.
But I shall not take the road,?Because it does not lead to her house.
When she was born?They shut her little feet in iron boxes,?So that my beloved never walks the roads.
When she was born?They shut her heart in a box of iron,?So that my beloved shall never love me.
From the Chinese.
THE WESTERN WINDOW
At the head of a thousand roaring warriors,?With the sound of gongs,?My husband has departed?Following glory.
At first I was overjoyed?To have a young girl's liberty.
Now I look at the yellowing willow-leaves;?They were green the day he left.
I wonder if he also was glad?
_From the Chinese of Wang Ch'ang Ling (eighth century)._
IN LUKEWARM WEATHER
The women who were girls a long time ago?Are sitting between the flower bushes?And speaking softly together:
"They pretend that we are old and have white hair;?They say also that our faces?Are not like the spring moons.
"Perhaps it is a lie;?We cannot see ourselves.
"Who will tell us for certain?That winter is not at the other side of the mirror,?Obscuring our delights?And covering our hair with frost?"
_From the Chinese of Wang Ch'ang Ling (eighth century)._
WRITTEN ON WHITE FROST
The white frost covers all the arbute-trees,?Like powder on the faces of women.
Looking from window consider?That a man without women is like a flower?Naked without its leaves.
To drive away my bitterness
I write this thought with my narrowed breath?On the white frost.
_From the Chinese of Wang Chi (sixth and seventh centuries)._
A FLUTE OF MARVEL
Under the leaves and cool flowers?The wind brought me the sound of a flute?From far away.
I cut a branch of willow?And answered with a lazy song.
Even at night, when all slept,?The birds were listening to a conversation?In their own language.
_From the Chinese of Li Po (705-763)._
THE WILLOW-LEAF
I am in love with a child dreaming at the window.
Not for her elaborate house?On the banks of Yellow River;
But for a willow-leaf she has let fall
Into the water.
I am in love with the east breeze.
Not that he brings the scent of the flowering of peaches
White on Eastern Hill;
But that he has drifted the willow-leaf
Against my boat.
I am in love with the willow-leaf.
Not that he speaks of green spring
Coming to us again;
But that the dreaming girl?Pricked there a name with her embroidery needle,
And the name is mine.
_From the Chinese of Chang Chiu Ling (675-740)._
A POET LOOKS AT THE MOON
I hear a woman singing in my garden,?But I look at the moon in spite of her.
I have no thought of trying to find the singer?Singing in my garden;?I am looking at the moon.
And I think the moon is honouring me?With a long silver look.
I blink?As bats fly black across the ray;?But when I raise my head the silver look?Is still upon me.
The moon delights to make eyes of poets her mirror,?And poets are many as dragon scales?On the moonlit sea.
From the Chinese of Chang Jo Hsu.
WE TWO IN A PARK AT NIGHT
We have walked over the high grass under the wet trees?To the gravel path beside the lake, we two.?A noise of light-stepping shadows follows now?From the dark green mist in which we waded.
Six geese drop one by one into the shivering lake;?They say "Peeng" and then after a long time, "Peeng,"?Swimming out softly to the moon.
Three of the balancing dancing geese are dim and black,?And three are white and clear because of the moon;?In what explanatory dawn will our souls?Be seen to be the same?
_From the Chinese of J. Wing (nineteenth century)._
THE JADE STAIRCASE
The jade staircase is bright with dew.
Slowly, this long night, the queen climbs,?Letting her gauze stockings and her elaborate robe?Drag in the shining water.
Dazed with the light,?She lowers the crystal blind?Before the door of the