Li Po Poems
|61.||Gold painted jars - wines worth a thousand.||4/8/2010|
|62.||Going Up Yoyang Tower||12/31/2002|
|63.||Gazing at the Cascade on Lu Mountain||12/31/2002|
|64.||For Meng Hao-Jan||1/13/2003|
|65.||Farewell to Secretary Shu-yun at the Hsieh Tiao Villa in Hsuan-Chou||12/31/2002|
|66.||Farewell to Meng Hao-jan||1/1/2004|
|67.||Drinking With Someone In The Mountains||12/31/2002|
|68.||Drinking in the Mountains||4/8/2010|
|69.||Drinking Alone in the Moonlight||4/8/2010|
|71.||Down Zhongnan Mountain||4/8/2010|
|72.||Down from the Mountain||12/31/2002|
|74.||Climbing West Of Lotus Flower Peak||12/31/2002|
|75.||Clearing at Dawn||12/31/2002|
|76.||Chuang Tzu And The Butterfly||12/31/2002|
|77.||Ch'ing P'ing Tiao||12/31/2002|
|78.||Chiang Chin Chiu||12/31/2002|
|79.||Bringing in the Wine||12/31/2002|
|80.||Before The Cask of Wine||12/31/2002|
The Old Dust
The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a man come home.
One brief journey betwixt heaven and earth,
Then, alas! we are the same old dust of ten thousand ages.
The rabbit in the moon pounds the medicine in vain;
Fu-sang, the tree of immortality, has crumbled to kindling wood.
Man dies, his white bones are dumb without a word
When the green pines feel the coming of the spring.
Looking back, I sigh; looking before, I sigh again.