Renditions
No. 14 (Autumn 1980)
By Tu Fu
Translated by Mimi Chan and Piers Gray
On the third day of the third moon, gentle breezes blow
Upon the waters by wose edge they come and go,
Women of richest beauty (thoughts as pure as snow).
Fine bones curve soft flesh (soft as nightfall's glow).
In late Spring, lace graces rich silks that shine
With gleaming Peacocks stitched in gold
and Unicorns in argentine.
And what do they wear upon their heads?
Rich silks, blue-green, grace their temples' line.
And what do they wear that flares behind?
Behind, pearled bodiced skirts downward flow.
And here the Lady's kith and kin drift to and fro
Secure in the titles of powerful States.
From steaming green cauldrons, purple camel humps
bulge,
In shimmering crystal bowls, white-fleshed fish
await
Rhinoceros chopsticks that toy in torpor.
Belled knives ring, as deft slices heap unheeded
plates
While Eunuch's horses skim above unstirred dust below
Bearing, from royal chefs, delicacies
which alone for beauties flow.
As hordes of power's minions are seen advancing
Before the approaching rider: sauntering
Steps condescend to tread rugs only power can know.
Willow-down covers the white water-weed, like snow;
A blue bird, in its beak, bears aloft a red bandeau.
The lustre of such power can warm hands sans kindling:
But take care. This Prime Minister's glare
can cancel
tomorrow.
Tu Fu (712-770)
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Research Centre for Translation, The Chinese University of Hong Kong.