Sunday Verse
Meandering River:
Three Stanzas, Five Lines Each
by Tu Fu
1
Meandering River desolate, autumn skies deep- withered
bits of brown lotus and chestnut drift. Lamenting this
wanderer handed-down into old age is empty; White
pebbles and shoreline sand also chafe back and forth.
A wailing swan, alone, cries out in search of its kind.
2
Singing that which occurs, neither modern nor ancient,
my rising song only breaks against bushes and trees.
And those houses stand, in their lavish parade, countless.
I welcome this heart of ash. Dear brother, dear little
niece- why so hurt, why these tears falling like rain?
3
I have asked enough answers of heaven for one life.
Enough, having hemp and mulberry fields there,
to settle near South Mountain, in Tu-ling. Riding
with Li Kuang, in simple clothes, I will end my
failing years shooting phantom tigers as they appear.