Sunday, December 23, 2012

The Snow and The Plum (II) By Lu Mei Po: Translation By Red Pine

The plum without the snow isn't very special,
and snow without a poem is simply commonplace,
At sunset when the poem is done then it snows again,
Together with the plum they complete the spring.


Thursday, December 6, 2012

Snow Country Weavers By James Welch

A time to tell you: things are well.
Birds went south years ago.
But one returned, a blue-wing teal
wild with news of his mother's ego.
Mention me to friends, Say:
Wolves are starving at my door,
The coldness drives them from their prey,
No meat can be sought from forest floor.
Spiders busy weaving threads
to bandage up the day, and more,
Those webs were filled with words
that tumbled messages into wind.