Leihan Tang

FUTURE PERFECT: SANCTUARY

Sanctuary1

Sanctuary2

CORRESPOND SCENT: THE POETRY OF LONGING

SONG VI

THE LITTLE LORD OF LIVES

The autumn orchid and the deer fodder *

Grow thick under the hall.

From green leaves and white branches

Great gusts of scent assail me.

Among such people there are sure to be lovely young ones;

You have no need to be downcast and sad.

The autumn orchid is in its splendor;

Green its leaves, purple its stem.

The hall is full of lovely girls;

But suddenly it is me he eyes and me alone.

When he came in he said nothing,

When he went out he said no word;

Riding on the whirlwind he carried a banner of cloud.

There is no sadness greater than that of a life parting;

No joy greater than that of making new friends.

In coat of lotus leaf, belt of basil

Suddenly he came and as swiftly went.

At nightfall he is to lodge in the precincts of god.

Lord, for whom are you waiting, on the fringe of the clouds?

I bathed with you in the pool of heaven,

I dried your hair for you in a sunny fold of the hill.

I look towards my fair one, but he does not come.

With the wind on my face despairing I chant aloud.

Chariot awning of peacock feathers, halcyon flags*.

He mounts to the nine heavens, wields the broom star*

Lifts his long sword to succor young and old;

Yes, you alone are fit to deal out justice to the people.