Tags » Han Shan

A Taoist Poem by Han-Shan

A scholar named Wang

Laughed at my poems.

The accents are wrong,

He said,

Too many beats;

The meter is poor,

The wording impulsive.

I laugh at his poems, 57 more words


I laugh at what he calls poetry

I laugh at what he calls poetry: a blind man’s
rhymes in lukewarm praise of the sun.

-Han Shan 

(8th Century)


Read rest of poem  23 more words


Han Shan tells why he came to Cold Mountain

Thirty years ago I was born into the world.
A thousand, ten thousand miles I’ve roamed.
By rivers where the green grass lies thick,
Beyond the border where the red sands fly. 42 more words


Han Shan speaks again

When I see a fellow abusing others,
I think of a man with a basketful of water.
As fast as he can, he runs with it home, 51 more words


Han Shan again

As long as I was living in the village
They said I was the finest man around.
But yesterday I went to the city
And even the dogs eyed me askance. 35 more words


again, Han Shan

Story on story of wonderful hills and streams,
Their blue-green haze locked in clouds!
Mists brush my thin cap with moisture,
Dew wets my coat of plaited straw. 37 more words