Dawn Over the Mountains
The city is silent, Sound drains away, Buildings vanish in the light of dawn, Cold sunlight comes on the highest peak, The thick dust of night Clings to the hills, The earth opens, The river boats are vague, The still sky-- The sound of falling leaves. A huge doe comes to the garden gate, Lost from the herd, Seeking its fellows. Tu Fu (translation Kenneth Rexroth)
Tu Fu lived in the T'ang Dynasty (713-770) but his poems, as translated by Rexroth, still speak to me. I've had the little paperback One Hundred Poems from the Chinese of Rexroth's translations since a student loaned me a copy about fifty years ago, when I was teaching at Berkeley Prep and wearing heels and pantyhose everyday. Those are gone, thank goodness, but the poems stay at my bedside.
