Jade Green Stream, Don't boast so proud
of your easy passing through these blue hills
Once you have reached the broad sea,
to return again will be hard,
While the Bright Moon fills these empty hills,
why not pause? Then go on, if you will.
The first line is a full skirt,
the second is the bodice;
On reaching the third and last
the neat collar has been added.
Lightly tie the ribbon bow,
and the charm of the dress will appear.
The basic pattern of fours
is like the counting of the days:
Twenty-eight will make a month,
thirty-one, too, will make a month.
......
There's a burst of mellow sunshine, the hour of my return
after many nights, dark and sable, spent in longing for my home
Bees buzz in the rose garden, and soon to their honeycomb
Up above the shimmering sea
Two or three seagulls are hovering.
Rolling, wheeling, they write a poem.
I do not know the alphabet they use.
On the broad expanse of sky
I will write a poem too.
Summer, and the sunglow hours are creeping, so slowly by
with red ruby treasures, waiting placidly, all day in the sky
But, twilight finally ends, with the perfume of black blooms
In perpetual sunshine of years, a bouquet a day,
varicolored and beautiful, chanting blooms' warm, deep yellow praise!
My garden gleeful is always looking on the bright side.
In the heart of colorful autumn, skies were colored, too,
for flaming time was getting older, out in the hilly country.
Springtime's budding charm, lends a certain beauty to old age.
Fiery, sunset days of crackling autumn, such colors in trees-
birds of every hue, not to mention vibrantly, cascading leaves!
The bittersweet season's lingering, like moonlight on water.
On a street of mellow autumn, gold leaves have turned deep orange
As harvest season offers vibrant hues, and cold that makes you cringe
And wild, bitter orange sunsets, are caught between plummy days
Summer, and the sunglow hours are creeping, so slowly by
with red ruby treasures, waiting placidly, all day in the sky
But, twilight finally ends, with the perfume of black blooms