The Seasons Turning (by Tao Yuan Ming)

After a few days of chill drenching rain, today brought a fresh new front of clear warming air.  No doubt I'm skipping too far ahead but I found it hard on my morning walk not to entertain the first hint of spring, and the robins perched high in the tree tops seemed to sense it too, as they faced to the east, and bathed in the morning's warming sunlight.  In that frame of mind, upon returning to my desk, it was hard to resist the temptation of seizing the moment to translate a first poem of spring, in the hope of spurring the seasons along in their turning.  This is the first part of a four stanza poem by Tao Yuan Ming and I will try to post the rest of it later this week, assuming the weather continues to cooperate.

Step by step

The seasons turn

In solemn procession

Like a noble head of state

Now comes the garb of spring

What meager words I possess

To describe these eastern regions

The hillsides bathed

In a clinging mist

The heavens obscured

By a lowering sky

But a gentle southern breeze

Brings promise of new growth

Straight ahead

时运四首

陶渊明

迈迈时运

穆穆良朝

袭我春服

薄言东郊

山涤馀霭

宇暧微霄

有风自南

翼彼新苗