Poems by Li Bai

Poems by Li Bai

Lady Yang Kuei-Fei at the Imperial Feast of the Peony, by Li Bai

The glory of trailing clouds is in her garments,
And the radiance of a flower on her face.
O h...

Lady Yang Kuei-Fei at the Imperial Feast of the Peony (II),by Li Bai

She is the flowering branch of the peony,
Richly-laden with honey-dew.
Hers is the charm of th...

Lady Yang Kuei-Fei at the Imperial Feast of the Peony (III),by Li Bai

She stands, leaning against the balustrade
Of Chen-hsiang Ting, the Pavilion of Aloes.
Vanqui...

The Long-Departed Lover, by Li Bai

Fair one, when you were here, I filled the house with flowers.
Fair one, now you are gone--on...

The Lotus, by Li Bai

In the deep sequestered stream the lotus grows,
Blooming fresh and fair in the morning sun.
It...

Maid of Wu, by Li Bai

Wine of the grapes,
Goblets of gold--
And a pretty maid of Wu--
She comes on pony-back: she i...

The Night of Sorrow, by Li Bai

A lovely woman rolls up
The delicate bamboo blind.
She sits deep within,
Twitching her moth e...

Nocturne, by Li Bai

Blue water.. A clear moon..
In the moonlight the white herons are flying.
Listen! Do you hear t...

The Old Dust, by Li Bai

The living is a passing traveler;
The dead, a man come home.
One brief journey betwixt heaven...

On a Picture Screen, by Li Bai

Whence these twelve peaks of Wu-shan!
Have they flown into the gorgeous screen
From heaven's on...

On Ascending the North Tower one Autumn Day, by Li Bai

The waterside city stands as in a picture scroll.
The sky is lucid above the mountain shrouded i...

On the Death of the Good Brewer of Hsuan-Cheng, by Li Bai

So, old man, you're down where the yellow waters flow.
Well, I imagine you are still brewing ...

On the Ship of Spice-Wood, by Li Bai

My ship is built of spice-wood and has a rudder of mulan;
Musicians sit at the two ends with je...

The Phoenix Bird Tower, by Li Bai

The Phoenix Bird Tower was situated to the north of Nanking, once the capital of Wu, Chin, and...

The Poet Thinks of His Old Home, by Li Bai

I have not turned my steps toward the East Mountain for so long.
I wonder how many times the ros...