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Yuan Mei

On the way to Baling

West from Lake Dongting is the Young Maid's Shrine,
Where painted eyebrows come to comfort the traveler.
This mountain district is deserted, and shops close early;
Watchtower lamps seem distant, as my boat moors late.
I don't understand the dialect and yearn for a translator;
Strange birds without names shame my skill as a poet.
Still it's wonderful how the boatmen understand my desires -
Each time I open the window, we face a branch full of flowers!

poem by Yuan Mei, translated by J.D. SchmidtReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Miscellaneous Feelings in the Sui Garden

1
Joy and anger are not caused by outside things:
they simply happen to arise in the heart.
Rising and falling are not matters of fate:
one simply happens to encounter them.
Reading a book and finding nothing there,
I drop the volume, get up, and take a walk.
I think I'll go to the bamboo grove
where I can listen to the springtime water flow.

2
Let them knock at the bramble gate —
the host is in a dream!
Startled awake, I search for my socks;
I must have lost them east of the thatched hut.
At night, with nothing on my mind,
in dream I watched the bamboo growing tall.
Should guests arrive now at my garden,
barefoot I will see them off.

[...] Read more

poem by Yuan Mei, translated by Jonathan ChavesReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Yuan Mei
Yuan Mei