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Huazi Ridge, Wang Wei and Pei Di (Wangchuan Collection #2)
The birds go flying endlessly,
Mountain on mountain of autumn colors.
Ascending, descending Huazi Ridge—
When will this melancholy end?
Sun sets, wind rises in the pines;
Returning home, dew’s dried in the grass.
With clouds alight, I tread on footprints;
In green hills, brush off this one’s clothes.
华子冈
飞鸟去不穷，
连山复秋色。
上下华子冈，
惆怅情何极。
落日松风起，
还家草露晞。
云光侵履迹，
山翠拂人衣。
The orthodox Buddhist reaction to the fading of autumn is melancholy because it’s a reminder that we too shall fade. (This does, yes, also appear all over Japanese court poetry.) Pei literally brushes off a “person’s” clothes, which I read as a humble self-reference.
---L.
Mountain on mountain of autumn colors.
Ascending, descending Huazi Ridge—
When will this melancholy end?
Sun sets, wind rises in the pines;
Returning home, dew’s dried in the grass.
With clouds alight, I tread on footprints;
In green hills, brush off this one’s clothes.
华子冈
飞鸟去不穷，
连山复秋色。
上下华子冈，
惆怅情何极。
落日松风起，
还家草露晞。
云光侵履迹，
山翠拂人衣。
The orthodox Buddhist reaction to the fading of autumn is melancholy because it’s a reminder that we too shall fade. (This does, yes, also appear all over Japanese court poetry.) Pei literally brushes off a “person’s” clothes, which I read as a humble self-reference.
---L.
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