8. Song Of Unending Sorrow. China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,
Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding, Till a little child of the Yang clan, hardly even grown,
19. The Grand Houses At Lo-yang By woods and water, whose houses are these
With high gates and wide-stretching lands?
From their blue gables gilded fishes hang;
20. The Poem On The Wall My clumsy poem on the inn-wall none cared to see.
With bird-droppings and moss's growth the letters were blotched away.
There came a guest with heart so full, that though a page to the Throne,
25. A Suggestion To My Friend, Liu. There's a gleam of green in an old bottle,
There's a stir of red in the quiet stove, There's a feeling of snow in the dusk outside --
26. Song Of The Guitar. In the tenth year of Yuanhe I was banished and demoted to be assistant official in Jiujiang. In the summer of the next year I was seeing a friend leave Penpu and heard in the midnight from a neighbouring boat a guitar played in the manner of the capital. Upon inquiry, I found that the player had formerly been a dancing-girl there and in her maturity had been married to a merchant. I invited her to my boat to have her play for us. She told me her story, heyday and then unhappiness. Since my departure from the capital I had not felt sad; but that night, after I left her, I began to realize my banishment. And I wrote this long poem -- six hundred and twelve characters.
I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Xunyang River,
27. Visiting The Hsi-lin Temple I dismount from my horse at the Hsi-Lin Temple;
I hurry forward, speeding with light cane.
In the morning I work at a Govermnment office-desk;
44. Autumn Cold here's my snowy crown
time's tinted decrepitude
there's the frost in the courtyard
45. The Dragon Of The Black Pool Deep the waters of the Black Pool, colored like ink;
They say a Holy Dragon lives there, whom men have never seen.
Beside the Pool they have built a shrine; the authorities
46. Watching The Reapers Tillers of the soil have few idle months;
In the fifth month their toil is double-fold.
A south-wind visits the fields at night:
47. Lazy Man's Song I have got patronage, but am too lazy to use it;
I have got land, but am too lazy to farm it. My house leaks; I am too lazy to mend it.
49. The Spring River Heat and cold, dusk and dawn have crowded one upon the other;
Suddenly I find it is two years since I came to Chung-chou.Through my closed doors I hear nothing but the morning and evening drum;
You are blind like us. Your hurt no man designed,
And no man claimed the conquest of your land.
But gropers both through fields of thought confined
We stumble and we do not understand.
You only saw your future bigly planned,
And we, the tapering paths of our own mind,
And in each others dearest ways we stand,
And hiss and hate. And the blind fight the blind.
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