A EULOGY FOR LI-PO
This
is a poem about art and poetry, time and power, and also the
universal human reaching across cultures and time. Li Po ( or Li Bai
701-762
c.e. ) is one of the most famous classical Chinese poets.
According
to one legend he is supposed to have told the emperor that he, Li-Po,
as a poet, was also related to the Jade Emperor of Heaven. For the
purpose of this poem I am pronouncing his name as Lee Bore- and no
pun intended.
A EULOGY FOR
LI-PO
What's
left of those long, honoured lines,
those
proud, most powerful potentates
of
ancient days?
Those
ruthless rulers of the flower realm?
Time's
swept their fame and might aside,
like
lost leaves in dry, autumn wind.
Where
are the gleaming courts,
the
glittering displays,
the
chambers of the slender concubines,
the
shining weapons of the warriors,
the
scrolls of ever-honoured names?
Dust
of the dust of the driest of plains.
And
we, whose childhood's history
is
from the farthest reaches
of
your most distant skyline's
dusk-golden
vanishing of sun,
don't
even know those rulers' names;
we
cannot speak the singing signs.
I
first came on the might of dynasties,
as
footnotes to the poets.
And
since the great march of the peasants,
even
the proud, jade emperor of heaven
is
cloud-bound, whereabouts unknown.
But
you, illustrious Li-Po,
your
spirit's working lives on, for
your
quiet thoughts at night,
your
silent, lunar light,
your
cloudy mountain paths,
far
waterfalls and swirling mists
and
journeys of the secret soul
in
far, far, upward flight,
are
supple with humanity,
and
sing in universal keys,
through
carefully translating art,
within
the hearing of the heart.
No
petty emperor could claim
such
a travelled, shining fame.
Thus
from another land,
another
time,
I
raise salute
across
the distances of seas and centuries.
Li-Po,
you were right to call
the
ones above your kin,
immortal
of heaven as maker of song,
your
body like enchanted breath-
still
shimmering.
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