Moonlight: Thinking of My Brothers
BY DU FU TRANS. BY SCOTT DALGARNO
The noise of war drowns out everything
but a single note from a lone goose.
Autumn dew frosts the land so white
I recognize my childhood moon.
Where have my brothers gone? With no home,
who can tell me if any of us are alive?
I send my letters out like arrows.
Their only answer: “Tomorrow will be worse.”
From A Height
BY DU FU TRANS. BY SCOTT DALGARNO
Sharp winds banish all clouds. Gibbons fill the emptiness
with mourning while bleak birds kettle above the ivory isle.
Will this cascade of leaf-fall never cease? The Yangtze,
inexhaustible, churns on and on. Autumn-weary,
I know the bottomless exhaustion of loneliness.
Sickness — my only companion, I drag us both up a height.
The gift of age, a white crown of regret. A dram of wine
is called for, but they cut me off.
Facing Snow
BY DU FU TRANS. BY SCOTT DALGARNO
Sing what woe the discontent
of Thetis’ son brought to the Greeks
—The Iliad I 1 (trans. Thomas Hobbes)
Fresh phantoms fill the void;
wretched, grieving and old, I sing
mournfully to myself. A chaos
of snow pinwheels in the gathering dusk.
Wine ladle lies idle; green
corpse beside an empty cup.
With no news, how can I
make sense of this time.
My home fire ebbs.
Why do I still see red?
