Wang Wei quotes

A morning rain has settled the dust in Weicheng; Willows are green again in the tavern dooryard... Wait till we empty one more cup – West of Yang Gate there'll be no old friends. (Wang Wei)
Red beans come from Southern country, Few blossoms on vines when Spring comes. For my sake please pick many of them, They are the best symbol of true love.
Wang Wei
I have just seen you go down the mountain. I close the wicker gate in the setting sun. The grass will be green again in coming spring, But will the wanderer ever return?
Wang Wei
Fighting single-handed for a thousand miles, With his naked dagger he could hold a multitude.
Wang Wei
I sit alone in the secluded bamboo grove and play the zither and whistle along. In the deep forest no one knows, the bright moon comes to shine on me.
Wang Wei
General Wei Qing's victory was only a thing of chance. And General Li Guang's thwarted effort was his fate, not his fault.
Wang Wei
Empty hills, no one in sight, only the sound of someone talking; late sunlight enters the deep wood, shining over the green moss again.
Wang Wei
The boat set sail upon the great river whose swollen waters stretched to sky's edge. Sky and waves split apart suddenly- the district capital's thousands of homes. Moving on, I can see the town market and vaguely make out mulberry and hemp. I turn to gaze back toward my homeland- only vast floods that stretch to the clouds.
Wang Wei
The cold mountain turns dark green. The autumn stream flows murmuring on. Leaning on my staff beneath the wicket gate, In the rushing wind I hear the cry of the aged cicada.
Wang Wei
I will walk till the water checks my path, Then sit and watch the rising clouds.
Wang Wei
You have come from my home, So you must know about things at home. On the day you left-in front of my open-work window, Had the winter plum opened into blossom yet? (Wang Wei)
The bright moon shines between the pines. The crystal stream flows over the pebbles.
Wang Wei
All alone in a foreign land, I am twice as homesick on this day When brothers carry dogwood up the mountain, Each of them a branch-and my branch missing.
Wang Wei
In the mountains a night of rain, And above the trees a hundred springs.
Wang Wei