Poetics

While two ladies of the Imperial harem held before
him a screen of pink silk, and a P'in Concubine
knelt with his ink-slab, Li Po, who was very
drunk, wrote an impassioned poem to the moon.


A Lament of Scarlet Cloud

O golden night, lit by the flame of seven stars, the
years have drunk you too.


The Son of Heaven

Like this frail and melancholy rain is the memory of
the Emperor Kuang-Hsü, and of his sufferings at
the hand of Yehonala.
Yet under heaven was there found no one to avenge
him.
Now he has mounted the Dragon and has visited the
Nine Springs. His betrayer sits upon the Dragon
Throne.

Yet among the shades may he not take comfort from
the presence of his Pearl Concubine?


The Dream