I’m continually impressed by Ezra Pound’s translations of Li Bai (or Li Po). This poem in particular, and especially now, as many of my friends (so many) scatter across the country. They all go to better things, and not a one is sad, but nonetheless, to echo Pound: Let us resolve also to make nothing of sea-crossing or of mountain-crossing. Bon voyage, friends.<\/p>\n
Exile\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Letter<\/em>
\n<\/strong>
\nFrom the Chinese of Li Po, usually considered the greatest poet of China: written by him while in exile about 760 A. D., to the Hereditary War-Councillor of Sho, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153recollecting former companionship.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\nSo-kin of Rakuho, ancient friend, I now remember
\nThat you built me a special tavern,
\nBy the south side of the bridge at Ten-Shin.
\nWith yellow gold and white jewels we paid for the songs and laughter,
\nAnd we were drunk for month after month, forgetting the kings and princes.
\nIntelligent men came drifting in, from the sea and from the west border,
\nAnd with them, and with you especially, there was nothing at cross-purpose;
\nAnd they made nothing of sea-crossing or of mountain-crossing,
\nIf only they could be of that fellowship.
\nAnd we all spoke out our hearts and minds and without regret.
\nAnd then I was sent off to South Wei, smothered in laurel groves,
\nAnd you to the north of Raku-hoku,
\nTill we had nothing but thoughts and memories between us.
\nAnd when separation had come to its worst
\nWe met, and travelled together into Sen-Go
\nThrough all the thirty-six folds of the turning and twisting waters;
\nInto a valley of a thousand bright flowers that was the first valley,
\nAnd on into ten thousand valleys full of voices and pine-winds.
\nWith silver harness and reins of gold, prostrating themselves on the ground,
\nOut came the East-of-Kan foreman and his company;
\nAnd there came also the \u00e2\u20ac\u0153True-man\u00e2\u20ac\u009d of Shi-yo to meet me,
\nPlaying on a jewelled mouth-organ.
\nIn the storied houses of San-Ko they gave us more Sennin music;
\nMany instruments, like the sound of young ph\u00c5\u201cnix broods.
\nAnd the foreman of Kan-Chu, drunk,
\nDanced because his long sleeves
\nWouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t keep still, with that music playing.
\nAnd I, wrapped in brocade, went to sleep with my head on his lap,
\nAnd my spirit so high that it was all over the heavens.<\/p>\nAnd before the end of the day we were scattered like stars or rain.
\nI had to be off to So, far away over the waters,
\nYou back to your river-bridge.
\nAnd your father, who was brave as a leopard,
\nWas governor in Hei Shu and put down the barbarian rabble.
\nAnd one May he had you send for me, despite the long distance;
\nAnd what with broken wheels and so on, I won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t say it wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t hard going
\nOver roads twisted like sheep\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s guts.
\nAnd I was still going, late in the year, in the cutting wind from the north
\nAnd thinking how little you cared for the cost and you caring enough to pay it.
\nThen what a reception!
\nRed jade cups, food well set, on a blue jewelled table;
\nAnd I was drunk, and had no thought of returning;
\nAnd you would walk out with me to the western corner of the castle,
\nTo the dynastic temple, with the water about it clear as blue jade,
\nWith boats floating, and the sound of mouth-organs and drums,
\nWith ripples like dragon-scales going grass-green on the water,
\nPleasure lasting, with courtezans going and coming without hindrance,
\nWith the willow-flakes falling like snow,
\nAnd the vermilioned girls getting drunk about sunset,
\nAnd the waters a hundred feet deep reflecting green eyebrows\u00e2\u20ac\u201d
\nEyebrows painted green are a fine sight in young moonlight,
\nGracefully painted\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand the girls singing back at each other,
\nDancing in transparent brocade,
\nAnd the wind lifting the song, and interrupting it,
\nTossing it up under the clouds.<\/p>\nAnd all this comes to an end,
\nAnd is not again to be met with.
\nI went up to the court for examination,
\nTried Layu\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s luck, offered the Choyu song,
\nAnd got no promotion,
\nAnd went back to the East Mountains white-headed.<\/p>\nAnd once again we met, later, at the South Bridge head.
\nAnd then the crowd broke up\u00e2\u20ac\u201dyou went north to San palace.
\nAnd if you ask how I regret that parting?
\nIt is like the flowers falling at spring\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s end, confused, whirled in a tangle.
\nWhat is the use of talking! And there is no end of talking\u00e2\u20ac\u201d
\nThere is no end of things in the heart.<\/p>\nI call in the boy,
\nHave him sit on his knees to write and seal this,
\nAnd I send it a thousand miles, thinking.<\/p>\n(Translated by Ezra Pound from the notes of the late Ernest Fenollosa, and the decipherings of the Professors Mori and Araga.)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I’m continually impressed by Ezra Pound’s translations of Li Bai (or Li Po). This poem in particular, and especially now, as many of my friends (so many) scatter across the country. They all go to better things, and not a one is sad, but nonetheless, to echo Pound: Let us resolve also to make nothing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9,26],"tags":[411,410,412,2549],"class_list":["post-487","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-interesting-nuggets","tag-farewell","tag-good-bye","tag-leavetaking","tag-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/487","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=487"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/487\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=487"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=487"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.paulboccaccio.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=487"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}