How delightful, the boat
Slow to raise waves
In the bamboo grove.
Lotus-flowers are pure and bright
Young nobles stir
The Beautiful Ones are like silk threads.
A layer of clouds
Impels me to write this poem.
II
Rain comes
Strikes the rose-red rouge
Of the Yen beauties.
We draw in to the willow trees
Watch the floating wave-flowers return
And reach the shore.
How delightful,
at sunset,to loosenthe boat!A light wind isslow to raise waves.Deepin the bamboo grove, the guests linger;The lotus-flowers are pure and brightin the cool evening air.Theyoung nobles stirthe ice-water;
The Beautiful Oneswash the lotus-roots, whose fibresare like silk threads.
A layer of cloudsabove our heads is black.impels me to write this poem.
It will certainly rain, whichII
The rain comes,
soaking the mats upon which we are sitting.strikes
A hurrying windthe bow of the boat.
The rose-red rouge ofthe ladies from Yüeh is wet;
The Yen beautiesare anxious about their kingfisher-eyebrows.
We throw out a rope anddraw into the sloping bank. We tie the boatto the willow-trees.We roll up the curtains andwatch the floating wave-flowers.Ourreturnis different from our setting out. The wind whistlesandblows in great gusts.reach the shore,
By the time weit seemsas thoughthe Fifth Month wereAutumn.
For Open Link Night at dVerse where anything goes with Mish as host, this erasure poem and title from Tu Fu’s “The Excursion” written in the Tang Dynasty of 700s AD