Su Shi

May we live long and share the beauty of the moon, though a thousand miles apart.

Looking back where once I walked through wind and rain — I return, and there is neither storm nor sunshine.

The great river flows east, its waves washing away all the heroes of ages past.

We cannot see the true face of Mount Lu — for we are in the mountain ourselves.

Seen from the standpoint of that which does not change, all things and ourselves are everlasting.

Beyond the bamboo, two or three branches of peach blossoms — the ducks are first to know when the spring river water warms.

This old man lets loose a young man's wild spirit — left hand leading the hound, right arm bearing the hawk.

Do not speak of old homes to old friends — try new tea over a new fire. Poetry and wine while the years are kind.

I asked if Lingnan must be harsh — she answered: Where the heart is at peace, that is home.

Who says life cannot return to youth? Even the stream before my door flows westward! Do not lament white hair at the crowing of the dawn.

Three hundred lychees a day — I gladly remain a man of Lingnan forever.

Black clouds like spilled ink cannot hide the hills; white rain like bouncing pearls scatters into the boat. A rolling wind suddenly blows all away — below Wanghu Tower, the water mirrors the sky.

Having examined every cold branch, the lone goose refuses to perch — the lonely sandbar is cold.

From now on, I shall vanish in a small boat — entrusting the rest of my life to rivers and seas.

What is life's journey like? It is like a wild goose treading the snow — leaving traces, then flying on.

Bamboo staff and straw sandals — lighter than a horse. Who is afraid? A straw cloak in the misty rain, and I let life unfold.