Wu Suo-jen (无所人) lived in the Tang period (唐) and was
a contemporary of Li Bo (李白) and Du Fu (杜甫). He was also sent into exile according to an imperial edict,
from where he returned after eight years by pardon. His poem collection
"Tear-Ink-Characters" was regarded as lost, but were rather
confiscated by a censor. There were only a few poems passed on, mostly owned by
friends. Here, eight poems are presented in modern translation, dealing with
the exile and the way of the prisoners. The poems are written according to the
seven-syllable rule. They follow exactly the ping and zhe tonem (平/仄), but show
impurities in rhyme.
Yellow
Wine and General Yang
General Yang had even sent yellow wine
After our farewell on the three-world terrace
Now we quaffed to honor his memory
Careening on the way through the pines
A Repose
with Tea
We wrote couplets on bamboo leaves
Yesterday while visiting the tavern
The daughters of the host looked out from behind the
sleeves
With their laughter the wild geese flew up
At the
Upper Reaches of the Yellow River
Our little boat carried only the guard
We trotted in chains over round stones
The evening bell of the village called for rest
In the fire sometimes a piece of bamboo startled
The Girl
with the Red Cheeks
A beauty of the village hurried upon lotus-feet
The guardian ordered another dish
She nodded and her braids turned into phoenix wings
But I bent back over the Mandarin's letter
In Front
of the Mountain Pass
I tightened the straw sandals
For fresh snow lay on the Bai-Xue Pass
Rocks had fallen violently into the ravine
And in between stood dwarfed trees and bushes
The
Outpost
The desolation of the barbarian post spread out before us
A stone fourfold with guards and a market village
How I miss my life in the far Chang-an
The hustle and bustle in the streets and the garden of
Hong-qi
Letters
from Home
Tell me friend, how is it now in the homeland
Are the peaches in blossom, does the blackbird sing?
Are the beauties swaying in the willow lane?
Do you bring a long-awaited letter? Tell me
Day
after Day
The high plain keeps silent in the gray morning fog
No friend of literature within 1000 Li
The next river is days’ journeys away
I sit on the tower with salty water
German Original:
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