May 2015
I recently reread Kenneth Rexroth’s 100 Poems from the Chinese and was quite taken with how modern they were in translation. I adapted many of them to a contemporary Lake Michigan / Milwaukee setting. My adaptations have appeared in Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, Verse Wisconsin, and qarrtsiluni. I’ve recently retired from teaching at the University of Wisconsin—Whitewater, and I'm now starting new lessons in a teacher-trainer program at a Milwaukee Iyengar yoga studio.
Author's Note: The three poems below are based on Rexroth's translations of the original Chinese texts by Ou Yang Hsiu.
Author's Note: The three poems below are based on Rexroth's translations of the original Chinese texts by Ou Yang Hsiu.
Ou Yang Hsiu (1007 -1072)
Sunny, Breezy, and Mild Along the Lakefront, I Imagine Spring
With Ou Yang Hsiu’s “Green Jade Plum Trees in Spring”
Green flyers land on our porch
Announcing spring cleaning for cleaning lawns.
Before dawn the village sweepers wash
And dry all the asphalt.
Fresh green asparagus arrives in plump
Bunches stacked like chlorophyll pencils in bins
For the locals to steam at home.
Beneath us the bugs lay
Plans for warmer times inside our
Heated homes in time to miss
Late freezes and the first rakes.
Long pants are off the college
Crowd as shorts
And flip flops appear as harbingers
Even before we see first spring finches.
After Running a Half Marathon Along the South Lake Shore, I Rest
All Afternoon with Ou Yang Hsiu’s “Spring Day on West Lake”
Today is perfect with spring breezes:
No ice, no sleet, no gale winds.
Too soon for sailboats, the Lake’s blue,
The sky’s blue appears almost painted palettes.
Even the clouds don’t threaten us.
Everyone’s still groggy before the early
Start which some don’t even know has
Just begun. Some fall before we start.
Though old
I’m still spring despite the autumn deep
Inside with old tired thighs, old
Shoes, old shirt, even gloves on
These old hands but I
Surprise us all with strides so long
Right from the start I may
Do this in record time.
It’s spring, the start of racing season.
(We’re so impatient just to race.)
No need to dodge ice
Patches as green now shoots
Up on the sandy path.
It’s spring racing with young men,
Young women running behind each other but
Me, my head’s still into spring
Despite the fact my cap’s all white.
I barely know a soul, few would
Even stop to even say hello.
Sprinting toward a record best this spring
May just help keep old days away.
Mid-April, Mid-morning, Not Middle-Aged Anymore,
I Read “Old Age” by Ou Yang Hsiu with the Lake in View
I’ll admit I ache a lot
And fall asleep before it’s dark.
Most letters now say thanks but no
Thanks for what took days
To hone. Each reject adds a year.
My eyes can’t take the bluey screen
Too long and sitting always
Puts my legs to sleep. I’m not
Sure what thoughts I had just then.
Quiet students say I talk and talk and
Never really stop for any talk.
I do sometimes forget just
What you said just now.
I thank Mother for the love of anything
To read yet all seem much shorter
Now and when I do find something
Interesting to read
It’s usually me I end up talking
To, just glad no one’s
Around to see my moving lips.
With Ou Yang Hsiu’s “Green Jade Plum Trees in Spring”
Green flyers land on our porch
Announcing spring cleaning for cleaning lawns.
Before dawn the village sweepers wash
And dry all the asphalt.
Fresh green asparagus arrives in plump
Bunches stacked like chlorophyll pencils in bins
For the locals to steam at home.
Beneath us the bugs lay
Plans for warmer times inside our
Heated homes in time to miss
Late freezes and the first rakes.
Long pants are off the college
Crowd as shorts
And flip flops appear as harbingers
Even before we see first spring finches.
After Running a Half Marathon Along the South Lake Shore, I Rest
All Afternoon with Ou Yang Hsiu’s “Spring Day on West Lake”
Today is perfect with spring breezes:
No ice, no sleet, no gale winds.
Too soon for sailboats, the Lake’s blue,
The sky’s blue appears almost painted palettes.
Even the clouds don’t threaten us.
Everyone’s still groggy before the early
Start which some don’t even know has
Just begun. Some fall before we start.
Though old
I’m still spring despite the autumn deep
Inside with old tired thighs, old
Shoes, old shirt, even gloves on
These old hands but I
Surprise us all with strides so long
Right from the start I may
Do this in record time.
It’s spring, the start of racing season.
(We’re so impatient just to race.)
No need to dodge ice
Patches as green now shoots
Up on the sandy path.
It’s spring racing with young men,
Young women running behind each other but
Me, my head’s still into spring
Despite the fact my cap’s all white.
I barely know a soul, few would
Even stop to even say hello.
Sprinting toward a record best this spring
May just help keep old days away.
Mid-April, Mid-morning, Not Middle-Aged Anymore,
I Read “Old Age” by Ou Yang Hsiu with the Lake in View
I’ll admit I ache a lot
And fall asleep before it’s dark.
Most letters now say thanks but no
Thanks for what took days
To hone. Each reject adds a year.
My eyes can’t take the bluey screen
Too long and sitting always
Puts my legs to sleep. I’m not
Sure what thoughts I had just then.
Quiet students say I talk and talk and
Never really stop for any talk.
I do sometimes forget just
What you said just now.
I thank Mother for the love of anything
To read yet all seem much shorter
Now and when I do find something
Interesting to read
It’s usually me I end up talking
To, just glad no one’s
Around to see my moving lips.
©2015 DeWitt Clinton