移得仙居此地来,花丛自遍不曾栽。
庭前亚树张衣桁,坐上新泉泛酒杯。
轩槛暗传深竹径,绮罗长拥乱书堆。
闲乘画舫吟明月,信任轻风吹却回。
I've moved and now I live up here
where gods could make their homes
the shrubs and thickets mix and bloom—
nobody had to plant them
the little tree in the courtyard
is where I hang my laundry
all the wine I can drink from
this mountain spring I sit by
my windows and my hallways
go deep through the bamboo trail
I use my silky clothes
to wrap up heaps of scattered books
rowing out idly in my decorated boat
chanting poems to the radiant moon
and the light breeze blows and blows—
I can trust it to bring me back.
Seven-character poem
This poem must take place after Yu Xuanji has been at the monastery for a time (864) and before her illness (870). She is not on a mountain here, only the hills of her monastery -- some back corner of the grounds with a bamboo grove and a path down to the river, or perhaps only a pond, with some painted boats. She could be newly independent from having finished her training and beginning to live on her own in the monastery here (865-868.) I should say that all this chanting she mentions is not religious chanting but the declaiming of poetry, perhaps musically as song. All these Tang poets chant their poems out loud.
© 2024 CN-Poetry.com Chinese Poems in English