Sunvaidanzan, Gunnachug, Injinashi

Gunnachug (1832-1866)



A PAIR OF SCROLLS

Though, plants and mountains do not grow old
Their heads are whitened by the snow
Though, waters do not suffer
Their face gets wrinkled in the wind

Sunvaidanzan (1834-1898)


AUTUMN SADNESS

In autumn the grass is blue and withered;
In autumn lamps are dim and nights are long;
In autumn looking through the window – the autumn

Injinashi (1837-1892)

The west wind clears the sky
Have those who pretend to knowledge seen it for themselves?
Even a withered leaf flattering in the morning
Is clear to an orphan mediating alone


***

As a lyric of desire
Transforms into a wind of blue clouds
If I can’t stimulate a person’s mind
Why bother plying my easy-going quill?


I’ll stop appealing a higher authority
Instead, I build a ger* of grass out on the western mountain.
Withered flowers will blossom again, but
My grey hairs won’t ever go black again.


Translated and edited by Tsog Shagdarsuren and Simon Wickham Smith


* ger: a nomad’s dwelling made of wood and felt