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–Wang Wei On treetops, the magnolia flowers bright, In mountains, the crimson buds take flight. The hut stands brook-side, void of human trace, The flowers bloom in profusion, fall without grace.
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–Wang Wei Alone I sit among the quiet bamboos, Carefreely I play on lute and croon. Deep in the woods, no human soul doth know my stay, Only the bright moon comes to shed its gentle ray.
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— Wang Wei A single carriage goes to the frontier; An envoy crosses Juyan. Like flying tumbleweed I leave the Han fortress; As homeward geese I come under Tartarian sky. In boundless desert the lonely smoke rises straight; Over endless river the sun sinks round. At Xiao Pass, the patrol riders were met on…
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— Wang Wei Fresh rain washed the mountains bare, Autumn permeates evening air. Among pine trees bright moonbeams peer; Over crystal stones flows water clear. Bamboos whisper of washer-maids; Lotus stirs when fishing boat wades. Though fragrant spring may pass away, Still here’s the place for noble souls to stay.
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— Wang Wei I follow the Blue Rill To the Stream of Yellow Blooms. It winds from hill to hill Till far away it looms. It roars amid pebbles white And calms down under pines green. Weeds float on ripples light, Reeds mirrored like a screen. Mind’s carefree, alone; The clear stream flows with…
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— Zu Yong How steep and fair the shady ridge! Snow-crowned peaks float above the cloud. The forest’s bright in sunset dyed, With evening cold the town’s overflowed.
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–Meng Haoran For miles and miles I sail and float; High famed mountains are hard to seek. By riverside I moor my boat, Then I perceive the Censer Peak. Knowing the Monk Yuan’s life and way, I love his solitary dell. His hermitage not far away, I hear at sunset but the bell.
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— Meng Haoran This spring morning in bed I’m lying, Not to awake till birds are crying. After one night of wind and showers, How many are the fallen flowers! Note: This quatrain reveals the poet’s love of spring and his regret of her departure. 春晓 –[唐]孟浩然 春眠不觉晓， 处处闻啼鸟。 夜来风雨声， 花落知多少。
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From afar, the mountains show their hue;Up close, the stream no sound does brew.Spring departs, yet flowers still stay;Men approach, but birds won’t stray.