More Suns
More from The Many Names For Sun. These inspired by translations of and after the great Chinese and Japanese Poets, Li Po, Wang Wei, Basho, Issa et al. These Songs incorporate several forms, Chinese Song, Haiku, Tanka etc. I hope you enjoy the many dynasties of zen.
168. Gilded, At The Creek
after Li Po
I follow the sky the rising sun wakes
and love the cold creek's purple clarity;
eastern light reflects the water's way,
small currents lead a wanderer's heart.
A song, both sun and moon this morning,
snowflakes settle in the pines, soon white.
170. Radiant, Along the Path
after Wang Wei
Walking on aspen path near the creek
dappled with saffron leaves, birds fly up
scatter floating catkins caught in the light
a ponderous wave of joe-pye weed sags.
172. Fading Sun, Morning Tea
after Issa
At dawn, deer in the fields licking first frost
from each other's hides, my sigh a white puff,
before the snows of winter they will mate,
autumn's last cricket sings a lonely song.
174. Luminent, Last Flower
after Basho
One white chrysanthemum in the garden,
sickly, one bud droops in October's sun,
frozen, I am tempted to pick it,
it would melt in my hand--autumn frost.
176. Enlightenment, Following Rain
after Tu Fu
After the endless rainfall
the granite hills grow darker
then brighten, fill with gold threads.
Yellow grass edges the creek,
all day long the blue jays screech,
salmon clouds stream from the east.
Once dry, the wildflowers bend
where the wind is soughing, fall.
178. Firelight, Mourning
after Buson
Wood smoke rises, the north wind gusts so hard
in dry fields of grasses and wildflowers
it doesn't linger, the snow blossoms white.
You're gone and winter fills the emptiness.
after Li Po
I follow the sky the rising sun wakes
and love the cold creek's purple clarity;
eastern light reflects the water's way,
small currents lead a wanderer's heart.
A song, both sun and moon this morning,
snowflakes settle in the pines, soon white.
170. Radiant, Along the Path
after Wang Wei
Walking on aspen path near the creek
dappled with saffron leaves, birds fly up
scatter floating catkins caught in the light
a ponderous wave of joe-pye weed sags.
172. Fading Sun, Morning Tea
after Issa
At dawn, deer in the fields licking first frost
from each other's hides, my sigh a white puff,
before the snows of winter they will mate,
autumn's last cricket sings a lonely song.
174. Luminent, Last Flower
after Basho
One white chrysanthemum in the garden,
sickly, one bud droops in October's sun,
frozen, I am tempted to pick it,
it would melt in my hand--autumn frost.
176. Enlightenment, Following Rain
after Tu Fu
After the endless rainfall
the granite hills grow darker
then brighten, fill with gold threads.
Yellow grass edges the creek,
all day long the blue jays screech,
salmon clouds stream from the east.
Once dry, the wildflowers bend
where the wind is soughing, fall.
178. Firelight, Mourning
after Buson
Wood smoke rises, the north wind gusts so hard
in dry fields of grasses and wildflowers
it doesn't linger, the snow blossoms white.
You're gone and winter fills the emptiness.
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