By Kenneth Rexroth

An assemblage of smooth chinese language verse which delicately discover the worlds of affection, nature, and meditation.

Love and the Turning 12 months features a choice from the Yueh Fu—folk songs from the Six Dynasties interval (fourth-fifth centuries A.D.). lots of the songs are uncomplicated, erotic lyrics. a few are attributed to mythical courtesans, whereas others could have been sung at harvest fairs or marriage celebrations. as well as the folks songs, Rexroth bargains a large sampling of chinese language verse: works through 60 diversified poets, from the 3rd century to our personal time. Rexroth continuously translated chinese language poetry—as he said—“solely to thrill myself.” And he created, with impressive good fortune, English types which stand as poems of their personal correct.

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One Hundred Poems from the Chinese

The lyrical international of chinese language poetry in devoted translations via Kenneth Rexroth.

The lyric poetry of Tu Fu ranks with the best in all international literature. around the centuries—Tu Fu lived within the T'ang Dynasty (731-770)—his poems come via to us with an immediacy that's breathtaking in Kenneth Rexroth's English models. they're so simple as they're profound, as smooth as they're beautiful.

Thirty-five poems through Tu Fu make up the 1st a part of this quantity. The translator then strikes directly to the Sung Dynasty (10th-12th centuries) to offer us a couple of poets of that interval, a lot of whose paintings was once no longer formerly on hand in English. Mei Yao Ch'en, Su Tung P'o, Lu Yu, Chu Hsi, Hsu Chao, and the poetesses Li Ch'iang Chao and Chu Shu Chen. there's a common creation, biographical and explanatory notes at the poets and poems, and a bibliography of different translations of chinese language poetry.

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To find me Hanging A dead And living man Meant to plow Through all eternity With no tool or Force Only my woman Body Meant to Die Again And Again 13 Why it is a Black Life Why is it a black life Because nothing is permanent And everything goes on and on not meaning anything Because I am an animal And I will always be displaced Until I die Because I am a human And other humans will constantly think of new ways to kill me And it will be loneliness until the end Which will be more or less lonely Because until then I eat by myself And ignore everyone Despite the fact that they look at me With their empty eyeholes And I read a book and am unable to nest with it Because I say things In the simplest way possible And am constantly misunderstood Because even when I mean well I am still a criminal And it is noon always 14 Hot sun beating on the blacktop With the red bird endlessly flying Because my feet and arms don’t move Unless I want them to Because when they do Move on their own It is frightening Because what is worse than terror Is not terror But health Which is transitory Which is often the worst friend of all Because I sigh and sigh And it sounds like a dog baying And no one wants to help me Because I am ugly, obnoxious, and insane Because the only living things that like the sound of my voice Are the vermin underneath the earth Who are waiting for me to come join them 15 The world doesn’t care The world doesn’t care if you pay your taxes on time The world doesn’t care The world doesn’t care if you are loved, hungry, or fed The world doesn’t care who died this year The world doesn’t care if you are murdered or raped If you struggle, if you are generous The world doesn’t care if you are sad If you are maimed If no one believes in you The world doesn’t care The world doesn’t care if you grow up and the only thing Keeping you in place Is the devil But I care But I care if you are hungry 16 The world doesn’t care But I care The world doesn’t care But I do 17 Death and Sylvia Plath My student in the city college Really likes the poems of Sylvia Plath She is writing her research paper about Lady Lazarus I like this student She spends some time Leaning over me and telling me How in the poem Plath turns from an object Into an entertainer And finally into a demon Oh yes, you are right, I tell her We are pleased I wonder afterwards, Why do young women like Sylvia Plath?

To find me Hanging A dead And living man Meant to plow Through all eternity With no tool or Force Only my woman Body Meant to Die Again And Again 13 Why it is a Black Life Why is it a black life Because nothing is permanent And everything goes on and on not meaning anything Because I am an animal And I will always be displaced Until I die Because I am a human And other humans will constantly think of new ways to kill me And it will be loneliness until the end Which will be more or less lonely Because until then I eat by myself And ignore everyone Despite the fact that they look at me With their empty eyeholes And I read a book and am unable to nest with it Because I say things In the simplest way possible And am constantly misunderstood Because even when I mean well I am still a criminal And it is noon always 14 Hot sun beating on the blacktop With the red bird endlessly flying Because my feet and arms don’t move Unless I want them to Because when they do Move on their own It is frightening Because what is worse than terror Is not terror But health Which is transitory Which is often the worst friend of all Because I sigh and sigh And it sounds like a dog baying And no one wants to help me Because I am ugly, obnoxious, and insane Because the only living things that like the sound of my voice Are the vermin underneath the earth Who are waiting for me to come join them 15 The world doesn’t care The world doesn’t care if you pay your taxes on time The world doesn’t care The world doesn’t care if you are loved, hungry, or fed The world doesn’t care who died this year The world doesn’t care if you are murdered or raped If you struggle, if you are generous The world doesn’t care if you are sad If you are maimed If no one believes in you The world doesn’t care The world doesn’t care if you grow up and the only thing Keeping you in place Is the devil But I care But I care if you are hungry 16 The world doesn’t care But I care The world doesn’t care But I do 17 Death and Sylvia Plath My student in the city college Really likes the poems of Sylvia Plath She is writing her research paper about Lady Lazarus I like this student She spends some time Leaning over me and telling me How in the poem Plath turns from an object Into an entertainer And finally into a demon Oh yes, you are right, I tell her We are pleased I wonder afterwards, Why do young women like Sylvia Plath?

Nothing I run from the room Down the steps Out the door Down the street I get on the nearest bus I take that bus to a train The train to a boat I get on the boat Then get on a larger one 25 I find a bedroom It has a navy carpet A red bed I hide in yellow sheets I fall asleep for days When I wake The golden man is next to me Touching my face Eyes going every which way He tells me a story It makes no sense It is in a language that is like My language, but is not mine I remember I am American I say, Is this America?

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