Mount Heaven’s Gate Viewed from Afar
Breaking Mount Heaven’s Gate, the great River rolls through,
Its east-flowing green billows, hurled back here, turn north.
From the two river banks thrust out the mountains blue,
Leaving the sun behind, a lonely sail comes forth.
Thoughts on a Silent Night
Before my bed a pool of light —
Is it hoarfrost upon the ground?
Eyes raised, I see the moon so bright;
Head bent, in homesickness I’m drowned.
Seeing Meng Haoran off at Yellow Crane Tower
My friend has left the west where towers Yellow Crane
For River Town when willow-down and flowers reign.
His lessening sail is lost in boundless azure sky,
Where I see but the endless River rolling by.
On Phoenix Terrace at Jinling
On Phoenix Terrace once phoenixes came to sing,
The birds are gone but still roll on the river’s waves.
The ruined palace’s buried ‘neath the weeds in spring;
The ancient sages in caps and gowns all lie in graves.
The three-peak’d mountain is half lost in azure sky;
The two-fork’d stream by Egret Isle is kept apart.
As floating clouds can veil the bright sun from the eye,
Imperial Court now out of sight saddens my heart.
To Wang Lun Who Comes to Bid Me Farewell
I, Li Bai sit aboard a ship about to go,
When suddenly on shore footsteps and songs o’erflow.
The Lake of Peach Blossom is a thousand fathoms deep,
But not so deep as the friendship Wang Lun and I keep.
When flies the roc, he shakes the world.
In mid-air his weakened wings are furled.
The wind he’s raised still stirs the sea,
He hangs his left wing on sun-side tree.
Posterity mine, hear, O, hear!
Confucius dead, who’ll shed a tear?
The Summit Temple
Hundred feet high the Summit Temple stands,
Where I could pluck the stars with my own hands.
At dead of night I dare not speak aloud
For fear of waking dwellers in the cloud.
The Waterfall in Mount Lu Viewed from Afar
The sunlit Censer Peak exhales incense-like cloud,
The cataract hangs like upended stream sounding loud.
Its torrent dashes down three thousand feet from high
As if the Silver River fell from azure sky.
The Moon over the Eyebrow Mountains
The crescent moon looks like old Autumn’s golden brow,
Its deep refection flows with limpid waterblue.
I’ll leave the town on Clear Stream for Three Canyons now.
O Moon, how I miss you when you are out of view!
Sitting Alone in Face of Peak Jingting
All birds have flown away, so high;
A lonely cloud drifts on, so free.
We are not tired, the Peak and I,
Nor I of him, nor he of me.