[lit-ideas] Re: Meanwhile back at the ranch in Newfoundland....

  • From: "Mike Geary" <atlas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Sat, 22 Jul 2006 08:47:28 -0500


AA:

Or,

"Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue."


Ah, sweet, abstemious Emily, virginal in so many way. But I prefer the carousing course of Li Po:


DRINKING ALONE UNDER MOONLIGHT

Holding a jug of wine among the flowers,
And drinking alone, not a soul keeping me company,
I raise my cup and invite the moon to drink with me,
And together with my shadow we are three.
But the moon does not know the joy of drinking,
And my shadow only follows me about.
Nevertheless I shall have them as my companions,
For one should enjoy life at such a time.
The moon loiters as I sing my songs,
My shadow looks confused as I dance.
I drink with them when I am awake
And part with them when I am drunk.
Henceforward may we always be feasting,
And may we meet in the Cloudy River of Heaven.


AWAKENING FROM DRUNKENNESS

Our life in the world is only a great dream.
Why should I toil my life away?
Let me be drunk all day,
Let me lie at the foot of the house gate.
When I wake up, I blink at the garden trees:
A lonely bird is singing amid the flowers.
I demand of the bird what season it is:
He answers: "The spring wind makes the mango bird sing."
Moved by his song, I sigh my heart away
And once more pour myself wine.
So I sing wildly till the bright moon shines.
The song over, all my senses are numb.


ON A JOURNEY

The good wine of Lanling smells of apple seed:
Come, fill to the brim my jade bowl with glowing amber.
If only mine host can make me drunk,
I shall not worry if there is a strange country.

****

2 free bonus poems

TO TU FU

On the Mountain of Boiled Rice I met Tu Fu,
Wearing a bamboo hat in the hot midday;
Pray, how is it that you have grown so thin?
Is it because you suffer from poetry
                         -- Li Po


THINKING OF LI PO

It is a long while since I have seen you, Li Po.
A pity that you have feigned madness --
The whole world would have you die,
But my heart dotes on your gifted soul,
For the thousand poems of your nimble wit,
For the wine-cup balm of such a wanderer.
Go to your old place of studying -- Mount Kuang.
Come back, O white-headed one!  It is time!
                       -- Tu Fu




*****

Mike Geary
Memphis


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