Daily Poem: Madly Singing in the Mountains ~ Po Chu-I
Madly Singing in the Mountains
~ Po Chu-I
Translated from Chinese by Arthur Waley
There is no one among men that has not a special failing;
And my failing consists in writing verses.
I have broken away from the thousand ties of life;
But this infirmity still remains behind.
Each time that I look at a fine landscape,
Each time that I meet a loved friend,
I raised my voice and recite a stanza of poetry
And marvel as though a God had crossed my path.
Ever since the day I was banished to Xunyang
Half my time I have lived among the hills.
And often, when I have finished a new poem,
Alone I climb the road to the Eastern Rock.
I lean my body on the banks of White Stone;
I pull down with my hands a green cassia branch.
My mad singing startles the valleys and hills;
The apes and birds all come to peep.
Fearing to become a laughing-stock to the world,
I choose a place that is unfrequented by men.
