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Confucian Documents

More Translations from the Chinese: Po Chü-i: Gettin...

Arthur WaleyChinese PoetryClassical Chinese Literature

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The early light of the rising sun shines on the beams of my house; The first banging of opened doors echoes like the roll of a drum. The dog lies curled on the stone step, for the earth is wet with dew; The birds come near to the window and chatter, telling that the day is fine. With the lingering fumes of yesterday's wine my head is still heavy; With new doffing of winter clothes my body has grown light.

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