Pair of Scrolls
Shoals of fish assemble and scatter,
Suddenly there is no trace of them.
The single butterfly comes—
Goes—
Comes—
Returning as though urged by love.
Ho Shao-chi, 19th Century
Two Panels
By the scent of the burning pine-cones,
I read the “Book of Changes.”
Shaking the dew from the lotus-flowers,
I write T’ang poetry.
Liang T’ung-shu, 19th Century
The Return
He is a solitary traveller
Returning to his home in the West.
Ah, but how difficult to find the way!
He has journeyed three thousand li.
He has attended an Imperial audience at the Twelve Towers.
He sees the slanting willows by the road
With their new leaves,
But when he left his house
His eyes were dazzled by the colours
Of Autumn.
What darkness fills them now!
He is far from the Autumn-bright hills
He remembers.
The spread of the river before him is empty,
It slides—slides.
Li Hai-ku, 19th Century