A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems
“ I raise my voice and recite a stanza of poetry And am glad as though a God had crossed my path. Ever since the day I was banished to Hsün-yang Half my time I have lived among the hills. And often, when I have finished a new poem, Alone I climb the road to the Eastern Rock. I lean my body on the banks of white stone: I pull down with my hands a green cassia branch. My mad singing startles the valleys and hills: The apes and birds all come to peep. Fearing to become a laughing-stock to the world, I choose a place that is unfrequented by men. ”
