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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.

Search for the best famous Wang Wei poems, articles about Wang Wei poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Wang Wei poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

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Poems are below...


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Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

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.
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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!
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

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!
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

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.
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

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.
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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.
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

Replying to Subprefect Zhang

 Old age think good quiet 
Everything not concern heart 
Self attend without great plan 
Empty know return old forest 
Pine wind blow undo belt 
Hill moon light pluck qin 
Gentleman ask end open reason 
Fisherman song enter riverbank deep 


Now in old age, I know the value of silence, 
The world's affairs no longer stir my heart.
Turning to myself, I have no greater plan, All I can do is return to the forest of old.
Wind from the pine trees blows my sash undone, The moon shines through the hills; I pluck the qin.
You ask me why the world must rise and fall, Fishermen sing on the steep banks of the river.
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

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.
"
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

Farewell

 Farewell to the bushy clump close to the river
And the flags where the butter-bump hides in forever;
Farewell to the weedy nook, hemmed in by waters;
Farewell to the miller's brook and his three bonny daughters;
Farewell to them all while in prison I lie—
In the prison a thrall sees naught but the sky.
Shut out are the green fields and birds in the bushes; In the prison yard nothing builds, blackbirds or thrushes.
Farewell to the old mill and dash of waters, To the miller and, dearer still, to his three bonny daughters.
In the nook, the larger burdock grows near the green willow; In the flood, round the moor-cock dashes under the billow; To the old mill farewell, to the lock, pens, and waters, To the miller himsel', and his three bonny daughters.
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

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.
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

Sometimes Id walk

 Sometimes I'd walk,
walk far from home,
the things I've seen,
and I alone.
Written by Wang Wei | Create an image from this poem

SONG OF AN OLD GENERAL

When he was a youth of fifteen or twenty, 
He chased a wild horse, he caught him and rode him, 
He shot the white-browed mountain tiger, 
He defied the yellow-bristled Horseman of Ye.
Fighting single- handed for a thousand miles, With his naked dagger he could hold a multitude.
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Granted that the troops of China were as swift as heaven's thunder And that Tartar soldiers perished in pitfalls fanged with iron, General Wei Qing's victory was only a thing of chance.
And General Li Guang's thwarted effort was his fate, not his fault.
Since this man's retirement he is looking old and worn: Experience of the world has hastened his white hairs.
Though once his quick dart never missed the right eye of a bird, Now knotted veins and tendons make his left arm like an osier.
He is sometimes at the road-side selling melons from his garden, He is sometimes planting willows round his hermitage.
His lonely lane is shut away by a dense grove, His vacant window looks upon the far cold mountains But, if he prayed, the waters would come gushing for his men And never would he wanton his cause away with wine.
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War-clouds are spreading, under the Helan Range; Back and forth, day and night, go feathered messages; In the three River Provinces, the governors call young men -- And five imperial edicts have summoned the old general.
So he dusts his iron coat and shines it like snow- Waves his dagger from its jade hilt in a dance of starry steel.
He is ready with his strong northern bow to smite the Tartar chieftain -- That never a foreign war-dress may affront the Emperor.
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There once was an aged Prefect, forgotten and far away, Who still could manage triumph with a single stroke.
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