What classic ancient poems describe osmanthus?
Three Poems on East City Osmanthus, No. 3
——Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
From afar I know the osmanthus in heaven stands alone; I ask Chang'e, do you want more?
Fortunately the moon palace has idle land; why not plant two more in the center?
East City Osmanthus
——Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
The seeds fell originally from Tianzhu Temple; the roots now spread in Helü City.
At that time they must have fallen with the south wind, dropping into the human world to grow at random.
There Is a Tree
——Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
There is a tree named red osmanthus, fragrant in all four seasons. Its flowers cluster like bright night snow, its leaves are cut like green spring clouds.
Its windblown shadow is clear as water, its frosted branches cold as jade. It alone occupies the seclusion of the small mountain, and does not allow ordinary birds to roost.
Osmanthus Before the Hall
——Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
The frost-defying tree on the ridge of Mount Tiantai, and the sprawling clump before the Sima's hall.
The same kind does not grow within the bright moon; yet in the mountains it still surpasses the dusty world.
Remembering Jiangnan
——Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
Memories of Jiangnan, and most of all Hangzhou: seeking osmanthus seeds in the mountains and temple under the moon, lying on the commandery pavilion watching the crest of the tide. When shall I visit again?
Mount Lu Osmanthus
——Tang Dynasty · Bai Juyi
The lofty osmanthus in the moon, its roots set against the blue sky. The wind of heaven rises around the moon and blows its seeds down to the human world.
Drifting, where did they come to rest? They fell on Mount Lu. They grew as osmanthus on the rocks, leaves like freshly cut emerald.
Branch and trunk grow larger day by day, roots grow firmer day by day. It does not return to the moon in heaven, but ages in vain among the mountains.
From Mount Lu to Xianyang, the road is three or four thousand li. No one transplants it, so it can enter the Shanglin Garden.
It cannot compare with the red-flowered tree, long planted before the warm chamber.
Spring in the Moon Palace
——Tang Dynasty · Mao Wenxi
In the crystal palace the osmanthus blooms; how many times have the immortals come to seek it. Red blossoms and golden stamens embroider the layered terrace; she leans low over a cup of agate.
The jade rabbit and silver toad vie to guard it; Chang'e and the fair maidens play and lean on one another. From afar they hear the ninefold music of the heavens; the Jade Emperor himself comes to watch.
Bird Cries in the Ravine
——Tang Dynasty · Wang Wei
Man at leisure, osmanthus flowers fall; night is still, the spring mountain empty.
The moon rises and startles the mountain birds, which cry from time to time in the spring ravine.
Osmanthus in the Mountains
——Tang Dynasty · Yong Yuzhi
Eight trees brush the red sky, green and unfading through all four seasons.
Where does the autumn wind rise? It first sways the longest branches.
Osmanthus Seeds at Tianzhu Temple on the Night of the Fifteenth Day of the Eighth Month
Lingyin Temple
——Tang Dynasty · Song Zhiwen
The Vulture Peak rises tall and steep; the dragon palace is locked in silence. From its tower one watches the sun over the sea; its gate faces the tide of the Zhejiang River.
Osmanthus seeds fall from the moon; heavenly fragrance drifts beyond the clouds. Grasping vines to climb the distant pagoda, hollowing wood to fetch spring water from afar.
Though frost is light the flowers bloom still more; though ice is thin the leaves have not withered. From youth I have loved the distant and strange; seeking such scenes washes away vexation and noise.
I wait to enter the road to Mount Tiantai, and watch myself cross the stone bridge.
Moonlit Night
——Tang Dynasty · Li Shangyin
Under the grass hidden insects, frost on the leaves; the red railing stretches far and presses on the lake's light.
The rabbit is cold, the toad is chilled, the osmanthus flowers white; on this night Chang'e must be heartbroken.
Twenty Miscellaneous Poems Written in Late Spring Thinking of Pingquan · Mountain Osmanthus
——Tang Dynasty · Li Deyu
I love the trees in the mountains, their abundant blossoms fresh to the eye. Facing the wind they scatter broken brocade; in the sun they shimmer like mist.
Their shadows enter the bottom of the spring pool; their fragrance congeals before the moonlit pavilion. How would one know, a lone secluded guest, that I rely on them as my red strings?
Ode to Osmanthus
——Liang Dynasty · Fan Yun
In the south there are eight trees, flourishing in no fixed season.
If one does not know the bitterness of wind and frost, how can one know the time of falling?
Ode to Osmanthus
——Southern Song Dynasty · Yang Wanli
It is not a mortal planting; it was moved here from within the moon.
A single point of fragrance from the Guanghan Palace, blown until it opens all over the mountain.
Osmanthus at the Condensation Hall
——Song Dynasty · Yang Wanli
In a dream I rode a white phoenix up to the green palace, crossing the Milky Way straight into the moon palace. My body was in the fragrant world of Guanghan; I woke to the osmanthus wind beyond the curtain.
Snowflakes cut in four directions into goose-yellow, golden grains like a thousand bran specks sprinkled on a dew-filled sack. Looking again and again, how big can it be? How does it hold so much fragrance?
Silk-Washing Stream
——Song Dynasty · Mao Xu
On green jade branches a single grain of yellow; in the green gauze curtain the dream-soul is fragrant. Dawn wind and moon, stepping into the new cool.
Chanting, leaning on the painted railing, I think of Li He; laughing, holding the jade axe, I resent Wu Gang. The white maiden does not marry; for whom does she adorn herself?
Partridge in the Sky
——Song Dynasty · Li Qingzhao
Dim and pale, light yellow, its nature gentle; its feeling distant, its traces far, only its fragrance remains. Why need pale green or deep red? It is naturally the finest among flowers.
The plum must be jealous, the chrysanthemum should be ashamed; where it blooms by the painted railing it reigns over mid-autumn. The poets were truly heartless; why did they not gather it in those years?
Broken Form of Silk-Washing Stream
——Song Dynasty · Li Qingzhao
Rubbed and broken, ten thousand light points of yellow gold; cut into layers upon layers of green jade leaves. Its bearing and spirit are like Yanfu, too brilliant.
How vulgar are the layered plum buds; how coarse the thousand-knotted lilac. It permeates the thousand-li dream of a sorrowing person, yet it is heartless.
Thanking Someone for Sending Two Osmanthus Trees
——Song Dynasty · Ouyang Xiu
A guest favors the fragrant thicket, moving its roots from a secluded valley. Cherishing the delight of the mountains, he loves this peerless thing beneath the cliff.
Dawn dew and autumn light float; clear resonance bends around the medicine railing. Wait until the abundant flowers turn white, and invite you to enjoy the fragrant sweetness.
Ode to Rock Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Zhu Xi
Gracefully stands the osmanthus beneath the cliff, alone fragrant in the late year. Its leaves are dense with a thousand layers of green; its flowers open in ten thousand points of yellow.
Heavenly fragrance gives rise to pure thoughts; cloud shadows guard the immortal's adornment. Who understands the prince's intent? In vain one chants the chapter of summoning the recluse.
Ode to Rock Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Zhu Xi
Dew gathers on golden stamens; wind rises through green jade branches. A thousand trees face withering and falling; this tree alone is lush and flourishing.
With tree tops it is hard to share the same tune; by the fence it does not keep the same season. Climbing and pulling, fragrance fills the sleeves; sighing, we share the same heart's hope.
Osmanthus Before the Balustrade
——Song Dynasty · Mei Yaochen
The mountain is full with no evil trees, only clumps of green osmanthus.
Its secluded fragrance has not yet ceased; flying birds carry off the lingering red.
I do not see the poet of the Li Sao; gaunt, he chants in the autumn wind.
Rock Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Zeng Ji
Grain-like jade clings finely to the branches; blue clouds are cut into even leaves. Round and round the osmanthus beneath the cliff, outstanding among trees like the finest horn.
The river trees are bleak in the wind; the garden flowers are sad and cold in spirit. Even heavy incense is not like this; how else to comfort a secluded dwelling?
Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Zhu Shuzhen
It presses down the west wind and holds sway over all flowers; all the autumn color bustles for it. One branch lightly placed beneath the study window, and both the person and the flower's heart are each fragrant.
When the moon waits to be full the flowers are just right; after the flowers are about to fade the moon wanes again. One should know that things in heaven and the human world alike, why must they all bloom in clear autumn at one time?
Song of Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Mao Pang
On the jade steps the osmanthus shadow is graceful in autumn; the sky unfurls a curtain of floating clouds. The fair moon lies drunk asleep in the crystal hall; the old toad does not guard it and the remaining flowers fall.
Suddenly green moss grows from the frosty moon's descent; immortal fragrance, cold and bleak, on true pearl calyxes. Lovely by the stone, for whom does it bloom? Fragrant mist touches people, clear to the very marrow.
Deep in the night, drunk with the moon, cold draws near; the raspberry rose instead becomes gaunt with grief. The cloud-playing immortal maiden wears pale silk robes; her misty skirt bears no mandarin-duck embroidery.
In whose eyes is this cold fragrance cherished together? Chanting coldly, I summon the plum blossom's soul. Xiaoman washes the glass cup for me; toward evening the autumn elder's grape is green.
Ode to Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Lü Shengzhi
It alone reigns over the three autumn months and presses down all flowers; why need orange green or orange yellow? Ever since its seed was divided and planted from the moon, its fragrance indeed drifts from the edge of heaven.
Its clear shadow does not disdain the white autumn dew; its new clumps especially bear the dark evening mist. The high branches have already been broken by a stranger's hand; ten thousand measures of wondrous fragrance are stored in a brocade sack.
Tangduo Song · Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Liu Guo
Reed leaves fill the sandbar; cold sand borders the shallow stream. After twenty years I cross South Tower again. The boat tied beneath the willow is still unsteady; how many days are left? Again mid-autumn.
At the broken rocky head of Yellow Crane, have old friends ever come? The old rivers and mountains are all new sorrow. I want to buy osmanthus and carry wine with me; in the end it is not like the travels of youth.
Ode to Rock Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Xie Yi
The light west wind has not yet brought frost, at night it rubs the yellow snow to make autumn light.
Though the six-petaled bloom is battered, four still remain, and it is just then that the heavenly flower grows more fragrant.
Autumn Moon over the Calm Lake
——Song Dynasty · Wang Wei
Ten thousand acres of cold light spread in a single night, wherever the ice wheel travels not a wisp of cloud.
The Vulture Peak is crossed from afar by the cold west wind, osmanthus blossoms fall in profusion, dotting the jade flask.
Qingping Yue · Remembering the Osmanthus at Wujiang
——Song Dynasty · Xin Qiji
In youth I drank deeply, remembering waking at Wujiang. Bright and merry, round round the tall tree's shadow, ten li of water sunk in cold mist.
In the great city just a touch of palace yellow, in the mortal world it relies on its fragrance. I fear the autumn wind and dew will dye the whole world fragrant.
Qingping Yue · A Lyric on the Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Xin Qiji
Bright moon, autumn dawn, the emerald canopy round and round is fair. Finely cut golden blooms made so small, all hidden by the leaves.
Break one off and it is not as in years past, the small window has its highs and lows, there is no place for so much fragrance, only two or three sprigs are needed.
Qingping Yue · Again on the Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Xin Qiji
The east garden faces the dawn, gust after gust of west wind is fine. It rouses the immortal Golden Small One, decked in emerald feathers so exquisite.
When a single branch opens by the pillow, the silk bed-curtain and green screen hang low. Sheltered so very well, yet the wind comes early to tap the window.
Cinnamon Branch Fragrance · Moved by the Osmanthus, Sent to Official Lu
——Song Dynasty · Chen Liang
The sky is high and the air austere, just as the moonlight is clear, autumn's face newly washed. The osmanthus blossoms are first gathered, and all thirty-six palaces are filled.
It does not decline to scatter down into the mortal world, fearing the other flowers would think themselves common. Toward the late autumn it calls back the sense of spring, how could it ever be lonely!
It is the leftover fragrance and surplus scent of heaven, no wonder one tree's fragrant wind runs on for ten li. Sitting facing the flowers, one sees only color floating like golden millet.
The hibiscus only knows how to add sorrow, and still more the eastern hedge's desolate yellow chrysanthemum. To enter the season it is too shallow, to go against the season too far; it loves to seek the lofty track.
Two Poems in Reply to Xu Juezhi's Gift of Osmanthus and a Coconut-Shell Tea Bowl
——Northern Song Dynasty · Huang Tingjian
All things seek one another, glory and decline, since we parted my old friend's temples have turned to silk. If you would know where I am in my late years, I can only say there is a cinnamon branch in the mountains.
Jiayang Has No Osmanthus at All, Happening to Get One Branch, I Wrote This in Jest
——Southern Song Dynasty · Lu You
Long a guest in the red dust, I do not pity myself, my eyes brighten at first sight of the immortal of the cold palace. Though it yields to the hedge chrysanthemum that blooms at the same time, it still takes one move ahead of the river plum.
Heavy dew dampens the fragrance on the quiet path at dawn, the slanting sun warms the buds, lovely at the small window. Who else will steam it with aloeswood, the golden duck censer and bright lamps vexing my drunken sleep.
Haoshi Jin
——Song Dynasty · Zhang Xiaoxiang
A single osmanthus flower, treasured and newly plucked by jade-slender fingers. Pinned toward the deep distant mountains, it claims the whole of autumn's color.
The whole garden's peaches and plums riot in the spring wind, spreading red red and white white. How can they compare to a lightly made-up lovely face, companion to the immortal guests of Penglai.
Jinqian Zi
——Song Dynasty · Anonymous
Last night the golden wind, yellow leaves scattered wildly below the steps. Listen by the window, the banana leaves struck by rain. Everywhere the pond, see the wind-bent lotus withered.
The scene is desolate, all the stage and song pavilions left idle. Leaning alone on the railing, there is only the osmanthus's quiet elegance. It breathes forth clear fragrance, better than orchid or musk.
Like golden ramparts made up, one thinks painting could hardly depict it. Plucked by slender hands, in a gall-bladder vase, a single sprig so free and easy.
Langtao Sha
——Song Dynasty · Wang Yan
The moonlight is perfectly round. Wind and dew are lovely. In the osmanthus fragrance I lean on the railing. The Milky Way slants across, the sky like water, the jade mirror's light is cold.
Hastily I set out cups and dishes. Face to face with a hoary face. The white goddess, do not begrudge a little lingering. The autumn air is evenly divided, the toad and hare are full, and every move means a whole year.
Queqiao Xian
——Song Dynasty · Guan Jian
Recluse of the eastern hill garden, after the osmanthus bloomed, its fragrance spread ten li across Jiangdong. Because of the fragrance it summoned me to cross the river, quietly forgetting the Double Ninth's green buds.
In life one takes one's pleasure, in official travels at the finest spots, at leisure and in health do not decline clear drunkenness. Neither cold nor warm, neither overcast nor clear, it is just the weather for climbing high.
Ru Sai
——Song Dynasty · Cheng Gai
How good to ponder. Just as the autumn wind blows, the middle of the night is long. What can be done with a single point of silver lamp, bright and steady against the west window. The quilt is cold again. The pillow is cold again.
The dew is chill and chill, the moon fills half the bed. It shines on a person until they are truly heartbroken. Before the window, who steeps the osmanthus yellow. The flowers are fragrant. The dream is fragrant.
Bu Changong
——Song Dynasty · Yang Wujiu
The osmanthus is richly fragrant and clear, I cannot sleep. I feel I am in the cold palace of the moon. I recall my house's consort's old wanderings, the auspicious borneol hidden secretly beneath the leaves.
I cannot bear it when the west wind rises at midnight. Still it flutters, ten thousand threads slanting down. Toward dawn it is instead the Garden of the Solitary, suddenly startling to see gold spread over the ground.
He Xinlang
——Song Dynasty · Ge Changgeng
The wind carries the cold toad's shadow. I gaze at the Milky Way, a single wheel so bright and pure, just like a golden cake. I think my old friend shares it across a thousand li, making my inch-wide heart bright and uneasy.
There is simply no help for it, the days are long and the night endless. Ten thousand trees are bleak and hushed, the apes have finished howling, I feel that by the water and beneath the trees this is no human realm. I cannot sleep, the wine is just wearing off.
The hibiscus pond pavilion, the wutong well. Quietly I do not know what night this is, cold light over ten thousand acres. In youth, romantic and full of feeling, and still more on such a fine day and lovely scene.
One must face this and drink deeply to the dregs. Everywhere the new cold, yellow leaves dancing and falling, I sigh that this body, why is it like duckweed. Beneath the osmanthus, the dew is cold.
Zhegu Tian
——Song Dynasty · Chen Yunping
Who tastes the phoenix flute on the jade terrace. The blue void floats with osmanthus autumn. The wind blows fragrance far from the curtains, a person leans on the railing waiting for the moon to rise.
The land of golden millet, the tower of pistil pearls. Cloud-girdled, mist-collared, jade at ease. The immortal maiden has already made her dark-frost pact, so one may well ride the whale up to the nine heavens.
Zui Luopo · A Hu of Pearls
——Song Dynasty · Zhou Bangyan
Woven gold, fine and delicate. The autumn wind is tender, the osmanthus first puts forth. In the pistil-pearl palace people find it hard to match. The flowers dye the tender young shoots, shyly shining against the emerald cloud canopy.
Its clear fragrance is not weaker than orchid or sweet flag. A branch in cloud-like hair, skillfully combed and swept. The night is cool, lightly shaking the rose calyx. Fragrance fills the lapels, the moon is at the Phoenix Pavilion.
Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Wang Shipeng
In learning immortality I am deeply ashamed to resemble Master Wu, but I rely on these two words "my hut," so green.
I suspect it was planted in the cold palace of the moon, in one autumn sending heavenly fragrance three times.
Man Ting Fang
——Song Dynasty · Xiang Ziyin
Rustling golden wind, round round jade dew, the cliff flowers bloom in beauty with autumn light. One smile by the water, and ten li gain clear fragrance.
I suspect it is a pistil-palace immortal, her new makeup done, her lovely brow painted yellow. In the frosty sky at evening, the gaudy reds and brilliant purples, looking back, are all enough to wound.
At the center. It breeds true color, and still it keeps the bright moon, so what if it shines only on it. Even as lofty as orchid and chrysanthemum, it still yields its fragrance.
It loses only to the Xianglin recluse, who after softly chanting leans idly on the folding couch. One must know, Heaven makes this rare creature to accompany one as one grows old in the river country.
Man Ting Fang
——Song Dynasty · Xiang Ziyin
Its roots coil in the moon cavern, its seeds divided on the cloud crag, one knows for certain it is not of the dusty world. Leaves cut from colored glaze, golden millet studding the flowers in profusion.
The yellow chrysanthemum circles about and yields its place, befriending orchid and thoroughwort, putting the mountain hedge to shame. Its clear fragrance reaches far, ten li of autumn wind, the nose has already grasped it first.
The wine is at its end. Listen to my words, half my life has been, north of the river and south of the river. Where I have traveled, endless green waters and blue mountains.
I am constantly vexed by this flower, thinking to grow old together, building a hut in its midst. Were it not for you, what business would Xianglin have, playing down into the human world.
Qingping Yue
——Song Dynasty · Xiang Ziyin
Beyond the dust of the world. A single kind of cold-fragrant bud. I suspect the moon maiden, drunk in heaven, playfully rubbed a yellow cloud to pieces.
The governor sits whistling in the clear river. Its fragrance rises, its fame flies, without equal. His mood lodged in the small hill's clustered osmanthus, the poem finished on the jade table by the bright window.
Nan Gezi
——Song Dynasty · Xiang Ziyin
Jiangzuo calls it cliff osmanthus, Wuzhong calls it muxi. Aloeswood for bone, turmeric for robe. Yet I resent the sparse plum vexing me, gaining fragrance late.
Its leaves borrow the mountain light's moisture, its flowers receive the water color's marvel. Year after year it draws me to write new poems. It should laugh at Xianglin's cold indifference, known only to one heart.
Chao Zhong Cuo
——Song Dynasty · Wu Wenying
The bright moon of the eastern sea is locked by cloud shade. The flower is at the moon's center. Beyond heaven its quiet fragrance lightly leaks, in the mortal world its immortal shadow is hard to find.
A pair of scissors cuts the leaves, a single sprig of morning dew, green temples once wore it as a hairpin. Only parting is unforgettable, cold mist and sparse rain in deep autumn.
Xi Jiang Yue
——Song Dynasty · Guo Yingxiang
Washing my eyes I look again at ten osmanthus, turning my head three autumns have already passed. In life one meets the pit and rides the current. How much more so when there are flowers and wine.
If the flowers have feeling for a person, wine can drown my sorrow for me. Wiping and rubbing the golden buds, floating them in a golden cup. Compared to chrysanthemum petals, is it better or not.
Xi Jiang Yue
——Song Dynasty · Guo Yingxiang
Ten osmanthus surpass five willows, the ninth autumn outdoes the third spring. Lush and abundant the golden millet breathes a rare fragrance. It has its own natural charm.
Do not envy breaking off a single high branch, just let it be heard from ten li away. If before the cup there is one who resembles the flower. Beg her to let you pin a little in her hair.
Su Zhong Qing
——Song Dynasty · Han Yuanji
Sparse and dense before it opens. It adorns the fullest branches. Clearly it claims all autumn thoughts, letting the dawn wind blow as it will.
Golden threads fine, emerald gauze hanging. West of the painted railing. Even Chang'e says, a single kind of quiet fragrance, is fitting in several places.
Xi Jiang Yue
——Song Dynasty · Cao Xun
Rosy clouds thickly draped in kingfisher green, morning light skillfully climbs the coral. The red forest alone is allowed to descend from the clear capital. Its fragrance claims the deep crag's mist and rain.
Autumn comes to the Nine-Flower Palace, the red robe borrows its clustered pearls. The osmanthus of the cold palace differs from the world's flowers. It does not carry the mortal world's wind and dew.
Shuang Tian Xiao Jiao · Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Xie Mao
Green clouds cut into leaves, low they guard the golden scraps. It claims all the renown among flowers, fragrance and charm, both clean and pure.
Peerless, hear me out. It is because its origin is different. Just look at its immortal robe still bearing, the golden court's dew, the jade steps' moon.
Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Ai Xingfu
The autumn trees sway, the wind and dew are cool; the old toad drops its seeds to plant in the empty hall. The embryo holds the central color of heaven and earth, leaking the fragrance of the immortal realms above.
In poverty, I am suddenly startled to find my grain basket full; in old age, I no longer have the madness to buy flowers. With sorrow, do not go up the Yellow Tower; retiring to the Huai Mountains brings long-lasting delight.
With moth-feather eyebrows lightly brushed, she is full of charm, her silk skirts swaying as if floating in a dream. Cherishing her pure heart, her fragrance travels far on its own; wandering and shedding clear tears, in drunkenness it is hard to repay.
Drifting clouds linger on my pillow through the frosty night; falling leaves in a thousand rows send off late autumn. How can I bear to seek old traces on the empty steps? Her fragrant soul is far and faint - who can make it stay?
Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Hong Mai
Its elegance would claim all the autumn light, golden grain-buds hidden deep beneath the leaves.
All say its subtle fragrance carries for ten li; surely its fair fame spreads through a thousand villages.
Rock Osmanthus
——Song Dynasty · Zeng Ji
Grain-like jade clings to the branches in fine clusters, blue clouds cut the leaves evenly. Round and round, the osmanthus beneath the rock, outstanding among trees like a rhinoceros horn.
By the river the trees sigh in the wind, the garden flowers look bleak and sad. Even rich incense is not like this - how else to comfort a secluded dwelling?
Fan Painting of Osmanthus Bestowed on Attending Ministers
——Song Dynasty · Emperor Gaozong of Song
Autumn enters the secluded rock where osmanthus shadows cluster; the fragrance is deep, grain by grain lighting the forest red.
It must have attended the Queen Mother's feast at Yao Pond, dyed with morning clouds as it descended from Guanghan Palace.
Inscribed by Topic at the Yushan Pavilion
——Yuan Dynasty · Gu Ying
The flying gallery looks down on the lotus isle; beyond the railing, secluded flowers bloom in the moonlight. The heavenly wind blows ancient fragrance in silence; clear dew, cold and cold, dampens the autumn garden.
The cloud ladder of ten thousand zhang can be reached by hand; unexpectedly my dream fell into the Palace of Pure Emptiness. In the pavilion the jade rabbit pounding medicine grieves; beneath the tree the white moon goddess dances on a phoenix.
In the jade tower and jasper halls, a thousand fair figures; among them a lean immortal with pale brows. He asks me of West Lake's old wind and moonlight - how does it compare to the soft dust of the Eastern Flower?
I only see the mountains and rivers' shadows waver; alone the clear radiance shines through past and present. Waking, I try to write a poem but my thoughts are blank; golden grain-buds fall thick as rain.
Qingping Yue
——Yuan Dynasty · Zhou Quan
Drinking heavily at the southern tower, I dreamed I reached the Palace of Pure Emptiness. The tune of the Rainbow Garment is hard to recall in score. Vague and faint, white phoenixes dance.
On the osmanthus branches, autumn light. In the shadow of emerald clouds, sparse yellow. The palace is cold, yet Chang'e does not close it; she scatters clear fragrance among the mortal world.
Osmanthus
——Yuan Dynasty · Ni Zan
Osmanthus keeps the late colors; curtain shadows fade in the autumn light. Gently, gently the wind still drops them; lush and lush, the night is not yet over.
The jade measuring-line hangs low, the moon wanes; the golden duck censer has ceased burning incense. Suddenly homesickness rises; cold and still, the dream of returning home is long.
Laurel
——Ming Dynasty · Li Dongyang
One flower blooms each month; when the flower blooms, it keeps to the season.
No need to boast of rain and dew; carefully keep them through ice and snow.
A Branch of Osmanthus from Guilin
——Ming Dynasty · Yang Shengan
In the precious tree grove, green jade is cool; the autumn wind again sends the osmanthus yellow.
Picked, each branch of golden grain-buds is bright; pinned in dark clouds of hair, each flower is fragrant.
Mid-Autumn at Tianzhu
——Ming Dynasty · Tang Xianzu
By the river tower, with no candle, the dew is chill and clear; the wind stirs the railings, and laughter and voices are bright.
All night, where have the osmanthus flowers fallen? In the moon there is only the sound of a rolling curtain.
West Lake
——Ming Dynasty · Shen Zhiyan
Fine clouds, calm and mild, the blue sky empty; cluster upon cluster of osmanthus, fragrance rising in the gentle breeze.
A hundred qing of West Lake, one bright moon; this body is already in Guanghan Palace.
Osmanthus · Immortal Friend
——Ming Dynasty · Qu You
Drop by drop, ground cinnabar dyes the plain autumn; light yellow and pale white all hold shyness. In the starry sky, golden grain-buds are known to be hard to buy; smashing coral, I regret not having gathered it.
The immortal friend himself transmits the art of the cinnabar furnace; the top scholar must make a tour before the brocade. I mean to beg a branch from Chang'e; surely the flower goddess will secretly nod.