Chinese classical poetry

  • The Chrysanthemum [Tang Poems]

    — Huang Chao When autumn comes, the Mountain-climbing Day is nigh; My flower blows when other blooms come to an end. In battle array its fragrance rises sky-high, The capital with its golden armor will blend.

  • To the Cloud [Tang Poems]

    — Lai Hu You have a thousand shapes in flakes or piles in vain; Hidden in mountains or on water you remain. The drought is so severe that all seedlings would die. Why won’t you come down but leisurely tower high?

  • To the Cuckoo [Tang Poems]

    — Wu Rong You see your splendor gone with the wind disappear; You waft with resplendent feather from year to year. Your tears have dyed the flowers red in alien hill; But when spring comes to your garden, grass looks green still. Among the leaves, trees dark in rain long you stay; At moonset…

  • To the Chrysanthemum [Tang Poems]

    — Zheng Gu Do not compare your leaves with tumbleweed in hue! On Mountain-climbing Day our head’s adorned with you. When poolside shores are sweet with your blooms wet with dew, None envy pine-like plants high on the eaves in view.

  • To the Partridges [Tang Poems]

    — Zheng Gu Over warm misty grassland wing to wing you fly. As fair and good as pheasants in the mountain high. When Grass-green Lake is darkened in rain, you pass by; When flowers fall on the Imperial Tomb, you cry. A roamer would wet his sleeves with tears on heating your song; His…

  • To the Crabapple Flower [Tang Poems]

    — Zheng Gu The vernal breeze has brightened your color so fine; You stir my mind to write a verse before good wine. With rain impearled on you, more beautiful you grow; You’re all the more bewitching when about to blow. The fair forgets to powder her face before you; The painter hesitates to…

  • The Young Pine [Tang Poems]

    — Du Xunhe While young, the pine tree thrusts its head amid tall grass; Now by and by we find it outgrow weed in mass. People don’t realize it will grow to scrape the sky; Seeing it tower in cloud, then they know it’s high.

  • The Weeping Willow [Tang Poems]

    — Tang Yanqian Flirting with vernal breeze, the willow sways so tender. Who in the world can vie with it but the waist slender? It is planted at random by the riverside. How many maids fond of its leaves of hunger died?

  • To the Early Mume Blossoms [Tang Poems]

    — Qi Ji Frozen are all the trees; Your warm root will not freeze. In the village’s deep snow Last night your branch did blow. Fragrance oozed in wind light; Birds peep at you still white. If you blossom next year, You will foretell spring’s near.