Du Fu, On the Heights

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The wind is keen and the sky wide,

apes howl mournfully;

the islet is clear, its sand white,

birds wheel round and round.

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In the boundless forest swirling leaves

go rustling, rustling by;

down the endless river surging waves

come rolling, rolling on.

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I am a constant traveler

this melancholy autumn –

an old man now, racked by sickness,

I scale these heights alone.

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This life, so hard, full of bitter pain,

has turned my hair to frost;

left me so poor that my last cup

of cloudy wine is gone.

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Keith Holyoak, trans. Facing the Moon: Poems of Li Bai and Du Fu (Durham, N.H.: Oyster River Press, 2007) 113.

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Du Fu, Struggling South

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The maple forest

brings spring to Peach Blossom River;

with its white sail

my boat will draw me through it.

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A refugee,

I keep on moving farther

from my home

as tears fall on my clothing.

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Old and sick,

I struggle steadily southward;

yet still gaze north;

recalling my gracious sovereign.

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My whole life

is just a bitter song –

I found no one

who cared for my sad music.

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Keith Holyoak, trans. Facing the Moon: Poems of Li Bai and Du Fu (Durham, N.H.: Oyster River Press, 2007) 114.

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My song: The line, “I am a constant traveler” brought to mind Bill Monroe’s “Weary Traveler,” a cut on Bill Monroe’s album of the same name. MCA Records - MCA-2173 (1976). What a fabulous album: I wore out the LP in my college dorm room, admiring the masterful fiddling of the great Kenny Baker throughout the tracks. I think, too, of songs like “I Am A Man of Constant Sorrow.” So I arranged my On The Heights in the style of a traditional bluegrass song.

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There is a Bill Monroe song, “Can’t You Hear Me Calling,” an idea I pick up in my line “and no one hears me call.” The Tang poets would appreciate my allusion to a revered master. Hawks and eagles do circle over the little hills in my rural county, riding the updrafts. “Hawks and Eagles” is also the name of an old fiddle tune.