Tipsy in the Flowers’ Shade

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[a reinterpretation of a literal translation of Li Ching-chao’s “Lyrics to the Tune Tipsy in the Flowers’ Shade” in George Whincup’s book The Heart of Chinese Poetry]

Thin mist, thick clouds
It never gets dark
The mind of the beast sparks, flames away
Its soul goes feral
We’re back again on our hill
Doing our best to stay shrill
Late at night does not interfere
Our words are too important here
Eastern boundary hems us in, we’re gone again
Dusty sunset never ends
A secret stench is up my sleeve
It makes me hard not to believe
A secret stench is up my sleeve
This secret stench it soothes and melts me
Don’t say you can’t see
Don’t say my spirit
Don’t say you can’t see my spirit melting
Don’t say you can’t see
Don’t say my spirit
Don’t say you can’t see my spirit melting
And churning westward in waves