By Xin Qiji
Translated By Shangyang Fang
to the tune “he xin lang: toasting the bridegroom”Now that I am old and those who crossed the mountains…
Explore Poems: Growing Old
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- By Xin Qiji甚矣吾衰矣。
怅平⽣、交游零落，只今余⼏！
⽩发空垂三千丈，⼀笑⼈间万事。
问何物、能令公喜？
我见青⼭多妩媚，料青⼭见我应如是。
情与貌，略相似。
⼀尊搔⾸东窗⾥。
想渊明、《停云》诗就，此时风味。
江左沉酣求名者… - By Ross WhiteI’m not the first man to lose his father
slowly, not the first to wonder
when I walk in the room if the… - By Brittany PerhamThe doctor tells her what she can’t eat
no grains no nuts no beans no sugar a tomato is OK
but no skins… - By John Whalen-BridgeTranslated By Chun YuThe words of children
splash in grandmother’s mind
and ripple to now.
孩子的話兒
在祖母心中濺起
蕩漾至今。 - By Nia FranciscoNiha hastsoí, nihidzanii
‘álastsii’ nihich’į’ dah deidiijaa’
bílák’ee naazhjaa’go
nihich’į’ dah deidiijaa… - By Martha SilanoBecause why not? Why not take the smashed pinecone
of my life, render it in purple? Why not dream of… - By Li-Young LeeWhen the big clock at the train station stopped,
the leaves kept falling,
the trains kept running,
my mother… - By William Butler YeatsI
I sought a theme and sought for it in vain,
I sought it daily for six weeks or so.
Maybe at last being but a broken man
I must be satisfied with my heart, although
Winter and summer till old age began
My circus animals... - By William Butler YeatsI
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees,
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music... - By William Butler YeatsI
I walk through the long schoolroom questioning;
A kind old nun in a white hood replies;
The children learn to cipher and to sing,
To study reading-books and history,
To cut and sew, be neat in everything
In the best modern way—the children's eyes
In momentary... - By William Butler YeatsI met the Bishop on the road
And much said he and I.
`Those breasts are flat and fallen now
Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion,
Not in some foul sty.'
`Fair and foul are near of kin,
And fair needs foul,'... - By William Butler YeatsI
What shall I do with this absurdity —
O heart, O troubled heart — this caricature,
Decrepit age that... - By William Butler Yeats'Because I am mad about women
I am mad about the hills,'
Said that wild old wicked man
Who travels where God wills.
'Not to die on the straw at home,
Those hands to close the eyes,
That is all I ask, my dear,
From the old... - By Li-Young LeeSad is the man who is asked for a story
and can’t come up with one.
His five-year-old son waits in his lap.
Not the same story, Baba. A new one.
The man rubs his chin, scratches his ear.
In a room full of books... - By Catherine BarnettIt should be easy, I tell my son,
to dispose of the possessions kept
in these rooms.
I’ve left some things on a shelf for him, see?
These coupons might still be valid,
the vinegar will keep forever.
I’ve always liked the idea of order.
I’ve always... - By John TickhillTranslated By Eric WeiskottIn springtime, chief of all seasons,
in May when new joys rise and flourish,
the sun is lord and messenger at once and sends down to us
to rouse our bodies and be merry:
humankind to... - By Kara van de GraafHow many hours have I wasted
trying to turn this into that, a rabbit
and a hat, a woman whose body
can split into three separate pieces.
This is my idea of... - By A. Van JordanLately, my friends ask me, out of love,
have I written about my mother,
who suffers under the storm of Alzheimer’s disease,
and I tell them, “I don’t write about my family,
never directly, at least.” To write this poem seems so
out of character... - By Jennifer PradoHer skin never wrinkled
And I used to wonder why
Her skin never wrinkled
As every year passed by
Look at Grandma's hands my mom would say
I bet you'd never think of how they stay that way
As she grew older
Her skin remained smooth and...