Wiping the Dust at the Five-Hundred-Stone Grotto Heaven, Vol. 1

...ty. The text continues the previous discussion on the necessity of nuance and subtlety in poetry.

Stretching open green eyes original: 青眼 (qīng yǎn); a metaphor for budding willow leaves which resemble eyes., they are already entangled and lingering, painting out the skies of the second month during the Qingming Festival. The mushroom-canopies and spring banners are as they were yesterday; yet the silk-like rain and fragments of wind have returned for another year. A mound of living emerald floats by the fragrant pavilion, while the time—swift as the shadow on a bull's horn—presses upon the painted boat. Do not sing the "Threefold Song of Wei City" original: 渭城三疊 (Wèi chéng sān dié); a famous parting song based on a poem by Wang Wei., for the heartbroken person is already there by the side of Ba Bridge A famous site in Xi'an where people traditionally parted ways and broke willow branches as a farewell gift.. The second poem

The Qin passes, the Han gardens, and again the palaces of the Sui dynasty; the dancing fans and the dust of singing voices—their traces are not yet empty. Misty shadows are blurred, the sky seems both near and far; traces of smoke are scattered in disorder as the water flows west and east. Bringing in the fragrant grass to match the blue of the clouds, setting off the peach blossoms to make them exceptionally red. Try looking out from the side of the way-stations original: 短長亭 (duǎn cháng tíng); "short and long pavilions" built every five and ten li for travelers to rest.; steep sails appear like a dream amidst the sound of a flute. The third poem

Denser than the mulberry or the silkworm-thorn, yet paler than moss; the accumulated mist and floating mountain haze cause one to guess their nature many times. Within the emerald curtain of branches, there is a gauze of leaves where the oriole sits steadily; the "Jade City" A Daoist celestial city, here likely referring to the dense willow grove. has no lock, yet the swallow bursts it open. Banners at the three frontiers bring tears to the soldier’s eyes; the clouds and mountains of the Six Dynasties display the talent of the visiting poet. It is as if they fear the light of spring will frequently leak away, so they closely surround the beautiful pavilions. The fourth poem

Flying catkins and flying flowers on ten thousand branches; the "White Gate" An old name for Nanjing. and red-planked bridges bring the deepest longings. The setting sun is reflected in the courtyard of the swings; the waning moon shines desolately upon the lyrics of Liu the Seventh original: 柳七 (Liǔ Qī); referring to the famous Song Dynasty lyricist Liu Yong, known for his romantic and melancholic style.. Near the water, it is easy to confuse the fisherman’s oar; across the woods, it is hard to recognize the tavern’s flag. How many times have I turned my head at the river bridge to part? The fading emerald and distant blue—I am drunk and unaware of them. One version reads: "Before the wind, I simply unfold my darkened eyebrows." Do not face the parting pavilion. In Du Fu's collected works, there are also four regulated poems on Willow Blossoms; they are fresh and expansive, enough to dominate the field. Here is the first:

Who is it that leaves behind resentment in the late spring? Planting long branches with one's own hand, only for them to go mad with catkins. To break a branch was once to lament a departure; now, cast aside and broken...