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Best Famous Wang Wei Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Wang Wei poems. This is a select list of the best famous Wang Wei poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Wang Wei poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of wang wei poems.

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by Wang Wei | |

A GREEN STREAM

I have sailed the River of Yellow Flowers, 
Borne by the channel of a green stream, 
Rounding ten thousand turns through the mountains 
On a journey of less than thirty miles.
.
.
.
Rapids hum over heaped rocks; But where light grows dim in the thick pines, The surface of an inlet sways with nut-horns And weeds are lush along the banks.
.
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.
Down in my heart I have always been as pure As this limpid water is.
.
.
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Oh, to remain on a broad flat rock And to cast a fishing-line forever!


by Wang Wei | |

THE BEAUTIFUL XI SHI

Since beauty is honoured all over the Empire, 
How could Xi Shi remain humbly at home? -- 
Washing clothes at dawn by a southern lake -- 
And that evening a great lady in a palace of the north: 
Lowly one day, no different from the others, 
The next day exalted, everyone praising her.
No more would her own hands powder her face Or arrange on her shoulders a silken robe.
And the more the King loved her, the lovelier she looked, Blinding him away from wisdom.
.
.
.
Girls who had once washed silk beside her Were kept at a distance from her chariot.
And none of the girls in her neighbours' houses By pursing their brows could copy her beauty.


by Wang Wei | |

AT PARTING

I dismount from my horse and I offer you wine, 
And I ask you where you are going and why.
And you answer: "I am discontent And would rest at the foot of the southern mountain.
So give me leave and ask me no questions.
White clouds pass there without end.
"


by Wang Wei | |

A MESSAGE FROM MY LODGE AT WANGCHUAN TO PEI DI

The mountains are cold and blue now 
And the autumn waters have run all day.
By my thatch door, leaning on my staff, I listen to cicadas in the evening wind.
Sunset lingers at the ferry, Supper-smoke floats up from the houses.
.
.
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Oh, when shall I pledge the great Hermit again And sing a wild poem at Five Willows?


by Wang Wei | |

TO QIWU QIAN BOUND HOME AFTER FAILING IN AN EXAMINATION

In a happy reign there should be no hermits; 
The wise and able should consult together.
.
.
.
So you, a man of the eastern mountains, Gave up your life of picking herbs And came all the way to the Gate of Gold -- But you found your devotion unavailing.
.
.
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To spend the Day of No Fire on one of the southern rivers, You have mended your spring clothes here in these northern cities.
I pour you the farewell wine as you set out from the capital -- Soon I shall be left behind here by my bosomfriend.
In your sail-boat of sweet cinnamon-wood You will float again toward your own thatch door, Led along by distant trees To a sunset shining on a far-away town.
.
.
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What though your purpose happened to fail, Doubt not that some of us can hear high music.


by Wang Wei | |

A FARM-HOUSE ON THE WEI RIVER

In the slant of the sun on the country-side, 
Cattle and sheep trail home along the lane; 
And a rugged old man in a thatch door 
Leans on a staff and thinks of his son, the herdboy.
There are whirring pheasants? full wheat-ears, Silk-worms asleep, pared mulberry-leaves.
And the farmers, returning with hoes on their shoulders, Hail one another familiarly.
.
.
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No wonder I long for the simple life And am sighing the old song, Oh, to go Back Again!


by Wang Wei | |

Huazi Ridge

 Fly bird go no limit 
Join mountain again autumn colour 
Up down Huazi Ridge 
Melancholy feeling what extreme 


A bird in flight goes on without limit, 
Joined hills are autumn's colours again.
From top to bottom of Huazi Ridge, Melancholy feeling has no end.


by Wang Wei | |

A Song of an Autumn Night.

 Under the crescent moon a light autumn dew 
Has chilled the robe she will not change -- 
And she touches a silver lute all night, 
Afraid to go back to her empty room.


by Wang Wei | |

In The Hills

 White rocks jutting from Ching stream
The weather's cold, red leaves few
No rain at all on the paths in the hills
Clothes are wet with the blue air.


by Wang Wei | |

Farewell

 I have got my leave.
Bid me farewell, my brothers! I bow to you all and take my departure.
Here I give back the keys of my door ---and I give up all claims to my house.
I only ask for last kind words from you.
We were neighbors for long, but I received more than I could give.
Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out.
A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.


by Wang Wei | |

Farewell

 FAREWELL, and when forth
I through the Golden Gates to Golden Isles
Steer without smiling, through the sea of smiles,
Isle upon isle, in the seas of the south,
Isle upon island, sea upon sea,
Why should I sail, why should the breeze?
I have been young, and I have counted friends.
A hopeless sail I spread, too late, too late.
Why should I from isle to isle Sail, a hopeless sailor?


by Wang Wei | |

Remembrance

 THERE were many burning hours on the heartsweet tide,
 And we passed away from ourselves, forgetting all
The immortal moods that faded, the god who died,
 Hastening away to the King on a distant call.
There were ruby dews were shed when the heart was riven, And passionate pleading and prayers to the dead we had wronged; And we passed away, unremembering and unforgiven, Hastening away to the King for the peace we longed.
Love unremembered and heart-ache we left behind, We forsook them, unheeding, hastening away in our flight; We knew the hearts we had wronged of old we would find When we came to the fold of the King for rest in the night.


by Wang Wei | |

Farewell

 Down horse drink gentleman alcohol 
Ask gentleman what place go 
Gentleman say not achieve wish 
Return lie south mountain near 
Still go nothing more ask 
White cloud not exhaust time 


Dismounting, I offer my friend a cup of wine, 
I ask what place he is headed to.
He says he has not achieved his aims, Is retiring to the southern hills.
Now go, and ask me nothing more, White clouds will drift on for all time.


by Wang Wei | |

Farewell to Hsin Chien at Hibiscus Pavilion

 A cold rain mingled with the river
at evening, when I entered Wu;
In the clear dawn I bid you farewell,
lonely as Ch'u Mountain.
My kinsfolk in Loyang, should they ask about me, Tell them: "My heart is a piece of ice in a jade cup!"


by Wang Wei | |

Mount Zhongnan

 Its massive height near the City of Heaven 
Joins a thousand mountains to the corner of the sea.
Clouds, when I look back, close behind me, Mists, when I enter them, are gone.
A central peak divides the wilds And weather into many valleys.
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Needing a place to spend the night, I call to a wood-cutter over the river


by Wang Wei | |

Hut Among the Bamboos

 Sitting alone
in the hush of the bamboo grove
I thrum my lute
and whistle lingering notes.
In the secrecy of the wood no one can hear -- Only the clear moon comes to shine on me.


by Wang Wei | |

My Retreat at Mount Zhongnan

 My heart in middle age found the Way.
And I came to dwell at the foot of this mountain.
When the spirit moves, I wander alone Amid beauty that is all for me.
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I will walk till the water checks my path, Then sit and watch the rising clouds -- And some day meet an old wood-cutter And talk and laugh and never return.


by Wang Wei | |

An Early Audience at the Palace of Light. (Harmonizing a poem for Secretary Jia Zhi.)

 The red-capped Cock-Man has just announced morning; 
The Keeper of the Robes brings Jade-Cloud Furs; 
Heaven's nine doors reveal the palace and its courtyards; 
And the coats of many countries bow to the Pearl Crown.
Sunshine has entered the giants' carven palms; Incense wreathes the Dragon Robe: The audience adjourns-and the five-coloured edict Sets girdle-beads clinking toward the Lake of the Phoenix.


by Wang Wei | |

To Qiwu Qian Bound Home After Failing an Examination.

 In a happy reign there should be no hermits; 
The wise and able should consult together.
.
.
.
So you, a man of the eastern mountains, Gave up your life of picking herbs And came all the way to the Gate of Gold -- But you found your devotion unavailing.
.
.
.
To spend the Day of No Fire on one of the southern rivers, You have mended your spring clothes here in these northern cities.
I pour you the farewell wine as you set out from the capital -- Soon I shall be left behind here by my bosomfriend.
In your sail-boat of sweet cinnamon-wood You will float again toward your own thatch door, Led along by distant trees To a sunset shining on a far-away town.
.
.
.
What though your purpose happened to fail, Doubt not that some of us can hear high music.


by Wang Wei | |

A Green Stream.

 I have sailed the River of Yellow Flowers, 
Borne by the channel of a green stream, 
Rounding ten thousand turns through the mountains 
On a journey of less than thirty miles.
.
.
.
Rapids hum over heaped rocks; But where light grows dim in the thick pines, The surface of an inlet sways with nut-horns And weeds are lush along the banks.
.
.
.
Down in my heart I have always been as pure As this limpid water is.
.
.
.
Oh, to remain on a broad flat rock And to cast a fishing-line forever!