•
— Chen Zi’ang In late spring grows the orchid good, How luxuriant are its leaves green! Alone it adorns empty wood With red blooms and violet stems lean. Slowly, slowly shortens the day; Rippling, rippling blows autumn breeze. By the year’s end it fades away. What has become of it fragrance, please?
•
— Luo Binwang Of autumn the cicada sings; In prison I’m worn out with care. How can I bear its blue black wings Which remind me of my grey hair? Heavy with dew it cannot fly; Drowned in the wind, its song’s not heard Who would believe its spirit high? Could I express my…
•
— Wen Tingyun At dawn I rise, with ringing bells my cab goes, But grieved in thoughts of my home, I feel lost. As the moon sets over thatched inn, the cock crows; Footprints are left on wood bridge paved with frost. The mountain path is covered with oak leaves, The post-house bright with…
•
— Du Mu A drizzling rain falls like tears on the Qingming Festival; The wayfarers’ hearts are going to break on their way. Where can a wine shop be found to drown his sad hours? A cowherd points to a cot amid apricot flowers.
•
— Du Mu Orioles sing for miles amid red blooms and green trees; By hills and rills wine shop streamers wave in the breeze. Four hundred eighty splendid temples still remain Of Southern Dynasties in the mist and rain.
•
— Jia Dao Cane in hand, I gaze on fine snow; Cloud on cloud spreads over the creek. To snow-covered cots woodmen go; The sun sets on the frowning peak. In the wildfire bums the grass dried; Mid rocks and pines smoke and mist rise. Back to the temple by the hillside, I hear…
•
— Liu Zongyuan Tired of officialdom for long, I’m glad to be banished southwest. At leisure I hear farmer’s song; Haply I look like hillside guest. At dawn I cut grass wet with dew; My boat comes o’er pebbles at night. To and fro there’s no man in view; I chant till southern sky…