What are the latest poems describing lotus flowers?
What poems describe lotus flowers? The lotus is forever praised by the world for its character of emerging unstained from the mud. “The lotus leaves stretching to the horizon are endlessly green, the lotus flowers reflecting the sun are especially red” is a true portrayal of the beauty of the lotus. The noble character of the lotus “hollow within and straight without, neither creeping nor branching, emerging from the mud unstained, washed in clear ripples without being seductive” has always been one of the subjects sung and painted by poets and scholars through the ages.
A small bridge cleaves the water, cutting the lotus flowers; on both banks the west wind tinges the evening clouds. As if the Jade Pool's first banquet had just ended, ten thousand concubines' drunken faces steeped in lead-white makeup. —— "Lotus" by Bai Yuchan, Song Dynasty
Rosy clouds wrap the rainbow lotus in green, naturally, a distinction of elegance and style. Beneath layer upon layer of green canopies, a thousand charms mirror the water, so red and white. Each time I gaze in melancholy, on a night of bright moon and clear wind, how low and silent it is, lovely and powerless. In the end one must let the boat go, to lodge deep in the fragrant place, and watch her colors. —— "Lotus Charming · Lotus" by Su Dongpo, Song Dynasty
By West Lake the waters are just rich, a pair of mandarin ducks bathe and wet their red robes. A dragonfly stands upon the lotus, enjoying the fragrant breeze, unwilling to fly. —— "By the Lake" by Cui Fuchu, Song Dynasty
Wu girls and Yue beauties, the Chu king's consorts, vie in rowing lotus boats, water wetting their clothes. Coming, the flowers at the river mouth welcome them in; when picking is done, the moon at the river head sees them home. Lotus-leaf silk skirts cut in one color, hibiscus blooms opening on either side of their faces. Mingled into the pond they cannot be seen; only when singing is heard does one know someone comes. —— "Two Songs of Picking Lotus" by Wang Changling, Tang Dynasty
The evening sun shines on the empty shoal, picking lotus in the late glow. The wind rises, the lake is hard to cross; the lotuses are many, the picking not yet sparse. The oar stirs and hibiscus falls, the boat moves and egrets fly. Lotus threads wind about the wrist, water chestnut horns tug at the clothes from afar. —— "Song of Picking Lotus" by Xiao Gang, Liang Dynasty
Round and round the embankment road, the walk endless; one willow tree, one step, all emerald green. The fair lady looks at the lotus again and again, and laments she cannot pin it at her temples. —— "Viewing Lotus at East Lake, Presented to Yuanfu" by Song Zixun, Song Dynasty
Eight or nine leaves spread field-like, scattered at first across the green pond. The tender green has just leveled with the water, the round shade already hides the fish. Duckweed covers it incompletely, weak apricot weed winds sparsely still. Half is beneath the spring waves, the fragrant heart rolled up and not yet unfurled. —— "New Lotus" by Li Qunyu, Tang Dynasty
Heaven's loom weaves snow brocade and mermaid silk, gorgeous blooms stand tall against the painted bridge. Stainless, it keeps whole the gentleman's purity; with such grace, who would think of the Sixth Lord's charms. Green seed-pods part their kernels, lotus stamens fade, jade lotus roots draw silk, summer leaves sway. Among the flowers one may well call it the pure friend; to gather fragrance one needs an oar, a moonlit boat. —— "Lotus" by Dong Sigao, Song Dynasty
A water fairy with rosy cheeks, one fragrant heart opening in two places. One thinks the mandarin ducks died white-headed, their two souls transformed into this lovely flower. —— "Lotus" by Shi Zhongshu, Song Dynasty
By the Ruoye Stream, lotus-picking girls laugh and talk together across the lotus flowers. The sun shines on new makeup bright beneath the water, the wind lifts fragrant sleeves into the air. On the bank, whose family's wandering young men, in threes and fives, are mirrored in the weeping willows. A purple steed neighs and goes off amid falling flowers; seeing this, one hesitates, heartbroken for nothing. —— "Song of Picking Lotus" by Li Bai, Tang Dynasty
In the winding pond, hibiscus mirrors the fine bamboo, green and red leaning together, embracing clouds and mist. Born without the power of the east wind, it still becomes the first flower of the warm breeze. —— "Lotus" by He Zhong, Yuan Dynasty
When autumn comes all fall empty, yet one rides the waves alone and puts forth red. Rooted where it ought to be, it will not straightway follow the wind. —— "A Single Lotus in the Autumn Pond" by Hong Zhigong, Sui Dynasty
Autumn dusk, scattered wildly over the fading lotus, drop by drop true-pearl rain. After the rain the moonlight rises, cold to the bone at the mandarin-duck shoal. By the pond, leaning on the rail, I grieve with no companion; how unbearable this single-dwelling mood! So I lean by the golden cage with the parrot, repeating my powdered lord's words. —— "Licorice Seed" by Liu Yong, Song Dynasty
Light and delicate in substance, pale and lovely, dotting the round pond, pitiable too. A few drops fly onto the lotus leaves as rain; the evening fragrance shares out a little river sky. —— "Pond Lotus" by Wanyan Chou, Jin Dynasty
Green lotus leaves cover the green water, hibiscus wears red fresh. Below are twin-rooted lotus roots, above are twin-headed lotus flowers. —— "Qingyang Ferry" by Yuefu, Jin Dynasty
On the bank the lotus flowers rise in purple mist, Wu girls' wine shops near the ferry boats. One may even wrap fish and crab in lotus leaves; growing old in Jiangnan, one would not resent heaven. —— "Bamboo Branch Song of Pukou" by Yuan Kai, Ming Dynasty
On the vast calm lake the lotus breeze is clear, flowers bloom mirroring the sun, red makeup bright. A pair of mandarin ducks suddenly flies away, startled by the oar's song beneath the flowers. The oar ripples, whose family's girl is she, cloud-like bun and moth eyebrows lovely. Picking and picking lotus, sleeves full of fragrance, deep among the flowers she forgets the way she came. —— "Song of Picking Lotus" by Zou Denglong, Song Dynasty
On the calm lake of green jade, mist and waves wide, when the water-chestnut and lotus breeze rises, autumn fragrance is born. The lotus-picking girl is fresh in red and powder, laughter in the boat heard across the mist. Her red skirt tied high, both sleeves rolled up, she does not mind duckweed touching her white wrists. Racing to pick first, hidden in the boat's awning, how much teasing, each asking the other. The Wu lad rows over for what business, pointing at the lotus to show deep meaning. The lad points at the seed-pod, the girl snaps the thread; the lotus does not reach its end, the thread does not stop. When the moon rises and the tide is calm they scatter home, the boat light, the oar short, gone like flying. Heartbroken and silent, the two say nothing, sending feeling through the flowing water to convey their longing. —— "Song of Jiangnan" by Zhang Lei, Song Dynasty
On the calm pond of green jade, autumn ripples glisten, green clouds crowd like fans, green handles sway. The water-palace fairy vies in red makeup, light steps riding the waves on a bright mirror. —— "Lotus" by Zhang Wenqian, Song Dynasty
On the calm waves floats the Luo goddess's hairpin, emerald and delicately round, small and fresher still. Rippling lake light for thirty qing, who knows whose lotus is beneath the leaves? —— "New Lotus" by Zhu Shuzhen, Song Dynasty
Lake light on every side, wind on every side, most pleasing of all is the white hibiscus. Clearly a pair of egrets flies down, yet just at the flower's edge they vanish. —— "Viewing Lotus at the Four-Gaze Pavilion" by Yao Mian, Song Dynasty
The green pond sways its beauty, reaching the starry ford, creak-creak the oars enter the white duckweed. It must be the Luo goddess's socks upon the waves; to this day the lotus stamens hold fragrant dust. —— "Lotus" by Wen Tingyun, Tang Dynasty
Green canopies half a pole deep in new rain, one dot of red fragrance in the clear wind. Heaven-endowed, its root is like jade; in the Lian Stream, the Way's heart is the same. —— "Lotus" by Song Boren, Song Dynasty
Clear water brightens the autumn moon, on the South Lake they pick white duckweed. The lotus is lovely, as if about to speak, driving the boatman to grief. —— "Song of Clear Water" by Li Bai, Tang Dynasty
Water-chestnut leaves swirl on the waves, lotus sways in the wind, deep among the lotus flowers a small boat passes. Meeting her lad, wanting to speak, she lowers her head and smiles, a jade hairpin falls into the water. —— "Song of Picking Lotus" by Bai Juyi, Tang Dynasty
The wave-riding fairy is fragrant in stillness, also bearing deep red, learning drunken makeup. With intent it fully opens to the morning dew, without feeling it gathers in the slanting sun. Its muddy root is jade-snow, originally unstained; its wind-blown leaves are verdant and fragrant of themselves. I think of Stone Lake where the flowers must be just right, cloud brocade reaching the sky, the painted boat cool. —— "Lotus Before the Hall of the Prefectural Residence" by Fan Chengda, Song Dynasty
Lotus seeds cannot be had, the lotus grows in the water. Still better than the roadside willow, idly swaying in the spring wind. Clear duckweed and lotus leaves, together in this same water. The wind blows and the lotus leaves remain, the clear duckweed goes west then east. When the lotus flower has not yet opened, its bitter heart rolls up all day. Spring water merely ripples; the lotus flower has not yet unfurled. —— "Three Yuefu Songs" by Meng Jiao, Tang Dynasty
In the ninth month Jiangnan's flowering season is done, the hibiscus lingers in the central plains. A beauty smiles across the brimming water, the setting sun still brings vague sorrow. Dew washes the jade-like golden hall cold, wind blows the silk sash, brocade city autumn. Looking at each other, no need to grieve over lateness; there is another kind of seclusion in the pond. —— "Autumn Lotus" by Wen Zhengming, Ming Dynasty
How long is the eight-hundred-li Mirror Lake, within it the lotus flowers are especially fragrant; the butterfly is just worrying it cannot fly across, the mandarin ducks splash the water in pairs. —— "Lotus" by Xu Wei, Ming Dynasty
Brocade sash mixed with flowered hairpins. Silk robes hang over the green river. I ask you, where are you going now. Out to pick Jiangnan lotus. Liaoxi is three thousand li away. Wishing to send word, there is no means. May you return soon. While these lotus flowers are fresh. —— "Song of Picking Lotus" by Wu Jun, Liang Dynasty
You say the hibiscus surpasses my looks, so you come to the river to pick hibiscus. Why is my lord so shameless, not looking at the hibiscus but looking at me! —— "Song of Picking Lotus" by Shen Ye, Ming Dynasty
A pavilion built by the water, like within a boat, night rain pattering wildly on the awning. At dawn the lotus leaves are seen to be quite dry, yet one doubts one misheard the fifth-watch wind. —— "Lotus" by Yang Wanli, Song Dynasty
Red and powder, beautifully adorned, emerald canopies low in wind and rain. It claims all the cool of the human world in the sixth month, for a month at the mandarin-duck shoal. At its root the lotus-root threads are long, in the flower the lotus heart is bitter. Only because romance holds so much sorrow, it further sets off the beauty's steps. —— "Bu Suan Zi (Lotus)" by Xin Qiji, Song Dynasty
Red and white lotus flowers bloom in the same pond, two kinds of color, one kind of fragrance. Just like the three thousand women of the Han palace, half in heavy makeup, half in light. —— "Red and White Lotus" by Yang Wanli, Song Dynasty
Lotus leaves spread field-like, green mirroring the water, a lone boat moored beneath the flower's shade. Last night a light rain fell pattering. Sorrowful, unable to sleep, at dawn I feel the west wind rise again. Rain sways and wind shakes, the golden stamens break. On the twin-flower branch the fragrant chamber is emerald. Lotus seeds and people are always alike. With no good intent, year after year the bitterness is in the center. —— "Yu Jia Ao" by Ouyang Xiu, Song Dynasty
When lotus leaves are born, spring sorrow is born; when lotus leaves wither, autumn sorrow is complete. Deeply knowing that while the body lives, feeling lives on, sadly gazing at the river head, the sound of river water. —— "Late Autumn, Roaming Alone at Qujiang" by Li Shangyin, Tang Dynasty
After the lotus blooms, West Lake is fine; when I come bearing wine, no banners are needed, red canopies and green covers follow before and behind. The painted boat is poled deep into the flowers, fragrance floats over golden cups, mist and rain faint, a stretch of reed-song, returning drunk. —— "Cai Sang Zi" by Ouyang Xiu, Song Dynasty
The lotus smiles, tuning the warm breeze. The two feelings, when set with intent, are especially deep. Crystal railings all around, four-fold delicate. Mirroring her makeup. Drunk, it stealthily opens its cup-face, at dawn secretly splitting the fragrant wind. I know not why it hurries so bitterly. Drifting down, fading red. —— "Hua Tang Chun (Lotus in the Wind)" by Shen Ying, Song Dynasty
The lotus wears palace-style beauty's makeup, the lotus leaves in the wind make an emerald skirt. Last night the night was cool, cool as water; I envy it, dwelling gracefully in the middle of the water. —— "Lotus" by Su Jiong, Song Dynasty
Deep red and rich green for three thousand qing, all transformed by the wave god. Emerging from mud, originally unstained, blooming in the jade well, long known to fame. In summer weather it is better than cool weather, the leaf's breath clearer than the flower's. Why does the Lian Stream so favor this, because its branches and tendrils have never grown. —— "East Lake Lotus" by Shi Wenxiang, Song Dynasty
Dried lotus leaves, color pale and grey, old stems sway in the wind. Fragrance diminishes, yellowness increases, all because of last night's frost. Lonely on the autumn river. —— "Dried Lotus Leaves" by Liu Bingzhong, Yuan Dynasty
Floating fragrance winds round the winding bank, round shadows cover the splendid pool. Often I fear the autumn wind comes early, and you never know it has scattered. —— "Lotus of the Winding Pool" by Lu Zhaolin, Tang Dynasty
The spring's eye flows silently, fine and thin; tree shade mirrors the water, loving the clear softness. The small lotus has just shown its pointed tip, and already a dragonfly has settled atop. —— "Small Pool"
In the Yan Garden one cannot pick lotus; the lotus leaves spread field-like for nothing, no fish play among the lotus, and I too find it hard to enter among the lotus. —— "Picking Lotus"
Lotus-leaf silk skirts cut in one color, hibiscus blooms opening on either side of their faces. Mingled into the pond they cannot be seen; only when singing is heard does one know someone comes. —— "Song of Picking Lotus"
In bleak autumn wind all flowers perish, dry branches and fallen leaves sway with the waves. For a time it sheds its lead-white makeup to nourish its living force; one spring rain and the green fills the pond. —— "Lingering Lotus"
Old willows hang over the bank, the wind faint; new lotus spreads across the marsh, leaves field-like. White feathers wave often, a leisurely scholar sits; the black gauze cap half falls, a drunken old man sleeps. In roaming dream I wield a spear to cut the sun; waking, I hold a tube and dare not peer at heaven. Laughable are the guests of glory on their pillows; facing the lotus, I remain a immortal beyond the world. —— "Facing the Lotus"
A friend sent word, inviting me to roam the garden site. Slanting wind and rain, a few drops; new moon, a few willow branches. Walking to Near-Spring Garden, I stand and gaze at the lotus pond. The lotus flowers welcome me as I arrive; so graceful, I am lost in admiration. —— "Visiting the Lotus"