Three-Mountain Pass (By Hồ Xuân Hương)

A cliff face. Another. And still a third.
Who was so skilled to carve this craggy scene:

the cavern’s red door, the ridge’s narrow cleft,
the black knoll bearded with little mosses?

A twisting pine bough plunges in the wind,
showering a willow’s leaves with glistening drops.

Gentlemen, lords, who could refuse, though weary
and shaky in his knees, to mount once more?


From SPRING ESSENCE: THE POETRY OF HO XUÂN HUONG (Copper Canyon Press, 2000) Translated from the Nôm by John Balaban