New Cold Mountain Transcreation 2

Wang, the Literary Master,

laughs at my unsophisticated poetry—

I know nothing of the 'wasp's waist'

and never incorporate a 'crane's bill'

and as for metric feet, I’m completely ignorant,

and my words are nothing special, and misused.

But I’m laughing at the poetry he writes—

a sightless man creating handiworks about the sun.

from translations: 283-red pine; 28-watson; 95-tanahashi; 286-henricks

New Cold Mountain Transcreation 1

Yesterday I saw these trees by the riverbank

injured and damaged so—unbelievable!

Only two or three were still left standing

scarred by ten thousand axe-blade wounds.

Their ragged leaves had been stripped by frost.

Countless swells had withered their festering roots.

And this is what it’s like to be born—

why would anyone blame eternity?

from translations: 198-red pine; 65-watson; 90-tanahashi; 191-henricks