By The Lake

By Tu Fu

The old fellow from Shao-ling weeps with stifled sobs as he walks furtively by the bends of the Sepentine on a day in spring. In the waterside palaces the thousands of doors are locked. For whom have the willows and rushed put on their fresh greenery?
I remember how formerly, when the Emperor’s rainbow banner made its way into the South Park, everything in the park seemed to bloom with a brighter color. The First Lady of the Chao-yang Palace rode in the same carriage as her lord inattendance at his side, while before the carriage rode maids of honour equipped with bows and arrows, their white horses champing at golden bits. Leaning back, face skywards, they shot into the clouds; and the Lady laughed gaily when a bird fell to the ground transfixed by a well-aimed arrow. Where are the bright eyes and the flashing smile now? Tainted with blood-pollution, her wandering soul cannot make its way back. The clear waters of the Wei flow eastwards, and Chien-ko is far away: between the one who has gone and the one who remains no communication is possible. It is human to have feelings and shed tears for such things; but the grasses and flowers of the lakeside go on for ever, unmoved. As evening falls, the city is full of the dust of foreign horseman. My way is towards the South City, but my gaze turns northwards.

Subscribe
Join Our Community
Subscribe
Join Our Community

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad
Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad
Subscribe
Join Our Community
Subscribe
Join Our Community
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
Get On The List
We'll let you know whenever we launch a new event, competition or service!
SIGN UP NOW!
Get On The List
We'll let you know whenever we launch a new event, competition or service!
SIGN UP NOW!