On Dreaming of Li Po
                                               by Tu Fu
 

                                             i
 

I’ve kept silent

no-one knows my anguish

who doesn’t feel sad

when a friend leaves

but when they sent you away

I was so overcome with grief

it was if you had died

since they exiled you in the South

among fens and swamps

I haven’t stopped thinking of you

though I’ve heard no news

until last night

when you appeared in my dreams

you’re imprisoned in such darkness

you’re so far away

how could you find wings to fly to me?

was it your ghost?

when you appeared

shadows lifted

everything was green

when you were gone

there was darkness

overpowering the mountains

moonlight passed through the trees

shone onto the rafters

somewhere your face

shone vaguely

old friend

be careful!

a storm approaches

those swamps are deep

don’t let the river dragon catch you

                                              ii

still south bound clouds pass by

you who went with them

haven’t returned

for three nights I’ve dreamt of you

cheered by your company

when we said goodbye

I saw anxiety in your face

struggle is never ending

your way home is hard

storms are approaching

your boat may capsize

you left your door

scratching your white head

dismayed at your treatment

while others enjoy favor

you were cast out

downtrodden    sad

growing old

lonely

if this be your fate

there is no justice in the world

don’t be ashamed 

mix misfortune with your old age

think only of your fame

your fame will last forever

let loneliness take care of itself

                        Tu Fu

translated by David Sen

interpreted by Dick Russell

copyright © Dick Russell 2014

                       Merlin

He sits by a river under some elms

on green moss throwing speckled stones

or   if you choose   he can rattle some bones

in a magical cloth and read them

he can work with playing cards

or with the palm of your hand

even throw cowries into the sand

but he dislikes working with entrails

picture him wearing his conical hat

its comical pattern of three pointed stars

if you look deep in his eyes

you’ll see galaxies spiraling away

his morning customers are cuckolded drones

there’s no harm in change he charges them

but he lightens their load by throwing the stones

lady love is a dangerous mistress   

he sits by a river and the breezes that blow

are counting the fingers of oak leaves

lost in love’s labyrinth they go to see him

he shows them out   soothes their pride   their peeves

although he’s an expert on species

on herbs    flowers    quaint remedies

he never has understood romance

he’s always found love un-mathematical

when young scoundrels come in the evening

he’s getting tired   he’s had quite enough    love   

he tells them bluntly    deals low blows   sudden 

surprises comeuppances such as yours

he sits on a hillside under a moon

priapic staff pointing out its crescent

preferring to commune alone with stars

than shudder in solitary public bars

when owls glide by on noiseless wings

he takes off his cloak    launches up by stealth

into the sky to mingle with breezes   

as night sails on towards winter's wheezes

he exists out there in a spacious void

together with other life that has passed

in a miasmal-like colloid state

Merlin could tell us could we but ask

Copyright ©  Dick Russell 2014

(a different version published in

Chapman Vol III. No 4: Dick Russell issue, 

Editors: Walter Perrie, Joy Hendry, R. R. Calder

1975)