Thinking of Xin the First: the Southern Pavilion, Summer
Westward, the mountain light dips out;
a pond moon rises slowly in the east.
Letting down my hair, I welcome the cool of evening,
opening the window, I stretch out at leisure.
Lotus wind perfumes the air,
bamboo dew drips crisply to the ground.
I want to pick up my singing zither,
but there's no-one around who's close to my music.
I'm moved by my remembrance of you, old friend,
laboring through my midnight dream.
A Summer's Day in a Hill Garden
Green trees, greener shades, and the summer's day is long.
Fine buildings study their own reflections in the pond.
The crystal curtains stir when a light breeze descends.
A bed of roses permeates the garden with their scents.
Selections from Songs of My Heart 7
This sweltering heat will take its leave of us,
the summer months will not want to stay.
Fragrant trees, heavy with bright leaves,
blue clouds, wandering across the sky...
So the four seasons turn, and turn around,
the Sun and the Moon rise and fall in succession.
Back and forth I pace the empty courtyard.
nobody but myself to behold my sadness.
I hope in the end for happiness, and harmony,
not pain, not separation.
Like A Dream
I often remember that sunset at Creek Pavilion:
Too drunk to know our way back home.
Turning the boat sound after a joyous day,
We blundered deeper into lotus' way.
We drive up a beachful of herons and gulls.