Today I offer one of my favorite Taoist poems. Lately I’ve been offering my translation/interpretation of the ancient poems that capture my imagination, but in this case I love Rexroth’s version so much, I’m posting his translation.
To Wei Pa, A Retired Scholar
The lives of many men are
Shorter than the years since we have
Seen each other. Aldebaran
And Antares move as we have.
And now, what night is this? We sit
Here together in the candle
Light. How much longer will our prime
Last? Our temples are already
Grey. I visit my old friends.
Half of them have become ghosts.
Fear and sorrow choke me and burn
My bowels. I never dreamed I would
Come this way, after twenty years,
A wayfarer to your parlor.
When we parted years ago,
You were unmarried. Now you have
A row of boys and girls, who smile
And ask me about my travels.
How have I reached this time and place?
Before I can come to the end
Of an endless tale, the children
Have brought out the wine. We go
Out in the night and cut young
Onions in the rainy darkness.
We eat them with hot, steaming,
Yellow millet. You say, "It is
Sad, meeting each other again."
We drink ten toasts rapidly from
The rhinoceros horn cups.
Ten cups, and still we are not drunk.
We still love each other as
We did when we were schoolboys.
Tomorrow morning mountain peaks
Will come between us, and with them
The endless, oblivious
Business of the world.
- Tu Fu, translated by Kenneth Rexroth, One Hundred Poems From The Chinese
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To view on the Heron Dance website where the painting is larger, visit here. Also, there I’ve posted a redo of “The Next Morning,” a recent painting.
A painting is never finished, only abandoned.
- Leonardo da Vinci
To read about the thirty-year history and inspiration behind Zen Mountain Journal, visit here.
Thank you for this Taoist poem ~ and your beautiful painting ~ it arrived very timely because my only brother's Celebration of Life is this Sunday ~ namaste ~