There is no way, there is no balance, All the world is chaos and injustice. Tradition insists that women are darkness, And men are lightness - but tradition is wrong. She was my light- my burning flower, Without her I reside in an eternal moonless night. Losing the last remnant of any love in my heart, I reach enlightenment, fading sorrowfully into the void. AD868

On Receiving a Letter From the Capitol I sit in my room, unable to breathe, All the color has left the world. A letter arrived from Chang’An today, I’ve read it a hundred times, The characters make no sense to my eyes, An official notice of execution. The magistrate tells me it is true, My love has been sent to the yellow springs. But how can she be dead? I saw her in my dreams last night. AD867

Poem From Chongqing Official duties have taken me so far from home, Down in this southern land of mountains and heat. Only a few hours after sunrise, And already all my clothes are wet. I think about a woman who rules my heart, Alone in her bed, night after night. I write poems on stones and walls and tables, Unable to erase her presence from my mind. AD866

Flower Mountain Flower Mountain, beautiful and perilous How many faithful men have fallen from her face? Her elegance and danger make my heart race, Men weren’t meant to scale such peaks. My prayers are said between heavy breaths, At a lonely shrine on her western cliffs. Exhausted, I rest for the night in a hermit’s hut, Where we drink wild tea and write poems. AD848

Perched on the cliffside, Overlooking a little mountain river. I shift my wine jug on the stone, Searching for a stable place to let it stand. Bare trees, and a cool breeze, A bird sings a spring song in the pines above. Such peace is rare in these uncertain days, But such beauty will live forever. I smile down at the sparkling water, And the sun reflects its smile back up at me. AD848

We rowed out to an empty island on the Wei river, Mooring our boat to a fallen tree. She moved like water through the forest, Like a flood through my heart. The night was warm and bright, Lying on my blanket, we chanted poems to the stars. Naked, we woke up wet with morning dew, Making love, we warmed ourselves in the rising sun. AD865

The first days after the fields are planted, Peasant families all walk the river bank. Young boys show off their strength, Seeing who can climb the tallest trees. Young girls sit with their mothers, On bamboo mats in the grass. Five old men sit on a rotten log, Drinking cool wine and talking about the past. All our sorrows and suffering, Are merely paths to moments like these. AD849

The Great Flood (Upon Hearing About XinMei’s Death) The gods and dragons are furious, Sending flood waters down upon my province. Everything I’ve ever known, Washed away into oblivion. My love, her husband, my village, her prison, Just memories now stolen by the void. Is it karma for our affair so long ago, Or karma for the evils of our empire? Are we all just blossoms in the wind, Torn apart by the eternal tempest? AD 85...

The fortresses burn - blood flows everywhere, Birds feast on the ruins of a grand age. I seek solace from the violence in the mountains mazes, Eating wild berries, my stomach aches with hunger. One moment you are feasting and warm, The next moment alone, cold, and hungry. I sit by an ancient and indifferent waterfall, So close to death and yet its beauty still moves me. My thoughts wander in the silence, Will my bones lay...

Everyone in the capitol is a poet, No one in the capitol is a poet. The poetry which kindled inside me, Is buried now in an unmarked grave. I thought I saw her face on the street, But it must have been her ghost. The mist creeps in over the mountains, I wish I could disappear in it forever. AD 872

For Yu Gone now three long years My nights are long and cold without her. Executed at twenty six years of age, What cruelty to befall such beauty. Some blossoms fall from the tree when the time is right Others are cut down violently and trampled. Chang’An has become as dark as a moonless night, The city in which we once made love. All these years of heartbreak, Has turned my hair grey before its time. AD 871

For Yu XuanJi I sit on top of Old Pine Mountain Chanting her beautiful words. The only thing sweeter than her mouth And more intoxicating than her wine Was the sound of her voice reciting DuFu. For many years I thought The last great poetry died with Bai Juyi, But she could conquer any man With the ink of her calligraphy And with a glance from her eyes. AD 869

The Emperor taxes the people without relent, Rumors of rebellion are whispered in the streets. By the time the eunuchs have taken what they want, There is hardly anything left to get through the winter. Mothers suffocate their babies in the night, Others sell their daughters to officials or whore houses for food. I weep for the extravagance of the court I weep for the pains of the people. AD 856

Her skin is as white and smooth as cream. Her hair, like a dark storm. She dances to an old mountain tune Wearing nothing but a white gauze dress. The cool air blows in through her open windows While we drink wine, and I write poems on her thigh. Her husband is a man of many vices; Spending all his days in the capitol's whore houses. Some nights we weep for the future, But we shed no tears tonight - How much longer can we...