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The streambed leads up to my thatch of reeds—
The white and pink clouds grow these curtains of creepers—
The bamboo is attractive after fresh rain—
The mountains are lovely in the slanting sun—
Mornings, herons often perch on the fence—
Evenings, autumn flowers frequently scatter—
A servant sweeps the narrow path through the vines …
I once hoped I’d be with a friend of old.
谷口书斋寄杨补阙
泉壑带茅茨，
云霞生薜帷。
竹怜新雨后，
山爱夕阳时。
闲鹭栖常早，
秋花落更迟。
家童扫萝径，
昨与故人期。
Not that he’s naming any names—he’s just sayin’ he’s disappointed. Gukou (“valley mouth”), near where Qian Qi grew up, is at the mouth of Wangchuan valley out of the Zhongnan Mountains—yes, downstream of Wang Wei’s estate, though Qian Qi was one of the next generation of poets. The creepers are not the vines, the first being climbing fig (Ficus pumila) and the other some sort of ground-running vine (commentaries aren’t clear as to what kind).
While I like the imagery, this is one of those poems where the central antithetical couplets feel mechanical rather than organically handled.
---L.
The white and pink clouds grow these curtains of creepers—
The bamboo is attractive after fresh rain—
The mountains are lovely in the slanting sun—
Mornings, herons often perch on the fence—
Evenings, autumn flowers frequently scatter—
A servant sweeps the narrow path through the vines …
I once hoped I’d be with a friend of old.
谷口书斋寄杨补阙
泉壑带茅茨，
云霞生薜帷。
竹怜新雨后，
山爱夕阳时。
闲鹭栖常早，
秋花落更迟。
家童扫萝径，
昨与故人期。
Not that he’s naming any names—he’s just sayin’ he’s disappointed. Gukou (“valley mouth”), near where Qian Qi grew up, is at the mouth of Wangchuan valley out of the Zhongnan Mountains—yes, downstream of Wang Wei’s estate, though Qian Qi was one of the next generation of poets. The creepers are not the vines, the first being climbing fig (Ficus pumila) and the other some sort of ground-running vine (commentaries aren’t clear as to what kind).
While I like the imagery, this is one of those poems where the central antithetical couplets feel mechanical rather than organically handled.
---L.