10 Best Famous Wang Wei Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 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.

• Wang Wei Poems
• Wang Wei Short Poems
• Wang Wei Biography

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! 

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. 
...No wonder I long for the simple life 
And am sighing the old song, Oh, to go Back Again! 

 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.

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. 

 As the years go by, give me but peace, 
Freedom from ten thousand matters. 
I ask myself and always answer: 
What can be better than coming home? 
A wind from the pine-trees blows my sash, 
And my lute is bright with the mountain moon. 
You ask me about good and evil fortune?.... 
Hark, on the lake there's a fisherman singing!

 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.

There's a girl from Loyang in the door across the street, 
She looks fifteen, she may be a little older. 
...While her master rides his rapid horse with jade bit an bridle, 
Her handmaid brings her cod-fish in a golden plate. 
On her painted pavilions, facing red towers, 
Cornices are pink and green with peach-bloom and with willow, 
Canopies of silk awn her seven-scented chair, 
And rare fans shade her, home to her nine-flowered curtains. 
Her lord, with rank and wealth and in the bud of life, 
Exceeds in munificence the richest men of old. 
He favours this girl of lowly birth, he has her taught to dance; 
And he gives away his coral-trees to almost anyone. 
The wind of dawn just stirs when his nine soft lights go out, 
Those nine soft lights like petals in a flying chain of flowers. 
Between dances she has barely time for singing over the songs; 
No sooner is she dressed again than incense burns before her. 
Those she knows in town are only the rich and the lavish, 
And day and night she is visiting the hosts of the gayest mansions. 
...Who notices the girl from Yue with a face of white jade, 
Humble, poor, alone, by the river, washing silk? 

 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.

 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.... 
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.

 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.