Short Poems

Beyond where the wild geese fly
unknown peaks emerge.
Row away, row away!
I'll angle there, of course, but
my zestful spirit is enough.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
As the setting sun shines,
a thousand hills are brocade.

Where white clouds rise,
branches rustle.
Raise sail, raise sail!
Let's go to West Lake at high tide,
and at low water to East Lake.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
White clover ferns and pink knotweeds—
they adorn every inlet.

Autumn comes to a river village,
the fishes are many and sleek.
Hoist anchor, hoist anchor!
Let's be free and happy
on myriad acres of limpid waves.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
Behind me the dusty world, but
joy doubles as I sail farther way.

Let's spread our net out on the sand
and lie under the thatched awning.
Moor the boat, moor the boat!
Fan off mosquitoes,
no, flies are worse.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
Only one worry: even here,
traitors might eavesdrop.

The setting sun is splendid.
Twilight will soon overtake us!
Stop the boat, stop the boat!
Under the pine a path
winds through the rocks.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
Do you hear an oriole calling
here and there in the green grove?

Whelmed by my exalted mood,
I had not known day was ending.
Lower sail, lower sail!
Let's beat the stroke
with a song of roving waves.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
Who can know how my heart
always delights in the creak of an oar?

How rare is a mossy jetty
with willow groves, thick and green.
Row away, row away!
Remember when we reach the fishing rock,
anglers don't fight for the best pool.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
When you meet a hoary hermit,
yield him the choicest stream.

When the river is muddy,
no matter if we wash our feet there.
Row away, row away!
I wish to go to the Wu River; sad
are the angry waves of a thousand years.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
Paddle the boat, then, to the Ch'u River;
but don't catch the fish of a loyal soul.

A wind rises among the water chestnut,
cool is the bamboo awning.
Raise sail, raise sail!
Let the boat drift with the current,
the summer breeze is capricious.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
Northern coves and southern river,
does it matter where I go?

Wrap the steamed rice in lotus leaves,
you need no other viands.
Hoist anchor, hoist anchor!
I've already got my blue arum hat,
bring me, boy, my green straw cape.
Chigukch'ong chigukch'ong osawa.
Mindless gulls come and go;
do they follow me, or I them?