Sunday Poem

Written for Old Friends in Yang-jou City While
Spending the Night on the Tung-lu River

I hear the apes howl sadly
In dark mountains.
The blue river
Flows swiftly through the night.

The wind cries
In the leaves on either bank.
The moon shines
On a solitary boat.

These wild hills
are not my country.
I think of past ramblings
in the city with you.

I will take
These two lines of tears
And send them to you
Far away
At the western reach of the sea.

by Meng Hua-Ran
Tang Dynasty
Early 730s A.D.
from The Heart of Chinese Poetry
Edited and translated by Greg Whincup
Anchor Books, 1987