Fishing In The River At Autumn Night
The moon shines on the river while autumn wind is blowing.
At night, I invite my friends to go fishing and boating.
Rowing our oars, we seek a shoal of fish gladly.
Mooring to pillar of the bridge, we act quietly.
My partner catches a red carp with his fishing bait.
Shaking its head, the reed wonders the old men's fate.
Is the strategist of Zhou Dynasty still fishing?
No! He migrates to the land of peach blossoms sleeping!
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Autumn Cicada
It embraced the withering tree in autumn.
Time passed away and good fortune had not come.
Its sad chirping noise startled the frustrated walker.
In sympathy, he shook his head and walked slower.
From Charles Wu in Hong Kong, China.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Merry Retirement
I am a low rank official in the government;
Who soon arrives at the age of retirement.
Exercise is my routine in morning and evening.
I take a noon rest in the bed for meditating.
At times, I practise calligraphy with a Chinese brush.
Computer is used to amend my verses not in a rush.
Chanting poem makes me very happy.
My black hair turns grey but I do not worry.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Give Up Betting On Horse Racing
Horse of outside chance should win this time but lost bluntly.
Bettors were angry and clamored against the jockey.
In my old age, I knew at last the race was but a fraud.
However, many horse fans deemed the trainer as their God.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Hong Kong Association of Amateur Calligraphers
Chinese calligraphy has no boundary.
Friends of Hong Kong gather here to work hardly.
We imitate the works of Wang's father and son
And follow the rules of the Qin and Tang penmen.
For complicated words, all strokes should go closely.
To form the simple ones, we must write them thickly.
We also study the ancient stone rubbings from tablets.
Exchanging views with the mentor, we achieve our targets.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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To Transmit The Culture Fire
We should follow the sages to carry on their duty.
Modern technology helps us to change the world daily.
In China, poem and couplet websites are flooded.
People transmit the culture fire by internet method.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Fish And Shrimp [1-2]
Fish And Shrimp [1]
I sigh with deep feeling that fish and shrimp are but children.
They are slap-happy to play in the net of the fisherman.
Seafood merchants become fierce and cruel butchers,
Who exhibit them in a pool to attract buyers.
Fish and shrimp[2]
You need not sigh furiously because of the gluttons.
Since ancient times, fish and shrimp have been cooked with onions.
Excessive catch should be prevented and even God says no!
We must protect the existing resource on the earth so.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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The Champion Horse
Thousands of people greet the best horse in the field.
It runs so fast yet easily though not four-wheeled.
Its speed is higher than the wind and bird in the sky.
Sometimes it neighs on the grass; sometimes it looks so shy.
Is it the son of the famous horse owned by the king?
Its excellent performance makes all horse owners awing.
It wins many open events in an easy way.
Leaving his good name in the racing world today.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Disneyland
Hong Kong Disneyland is open for business today.
The paradise looks so new that all cheer, ‘Hurrah! '
Looking at the castle, you may dream about your childhood.
Flying over the stars, you explore the space where you could.
Forest beasts dance in the Festival of the Lion King.
Cinderella becomes a beauty and the mice sing.
The display of fireworks makes visitors so amazing.
They enjoy themselves but hesitate before leaving.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Military Training
Hearing morning bugle, I rushed to the flag-raising rite.
The ugly cotton-wadded quilt was deemed to be alright.
I was not up to the standard in parade and shooting.
Face with mud; helmet with leaves, I was camouflaging.
After training, all overseas students would be away.
The platoon leader was happy to be on holiday.
Cherishing our friendship, all people must say good-bye.
We drank wine in the graduation party and I did cry.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Poem, Wine, Fiddle & Chess
Chanting poem and pairing couplet made me happy.
So thus drinking bottles of wine with my friend, Charley!
I played fiddle according to the ancient music book.
In chess competition, I defeated the famous crook.
Papers and cups always scattered on my table.
At times, songs and reading sound were full of my aisle.
Drunken and sleepy, I asked my guests to leave my den.
Having no urgent matter, they would be coming again.
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poem by Charles WOO
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To Be A Fairy
You can have a clear conscience in absolute quietness.
After reading Buddhism books, your feelings are wondrous.
You become the peak fairy, 'Han-man' watching cranes to dance.
At diving fishes, the water fairy 'Care-free' will glance.
The cloud city with smoke palace is your final home.
The funny moon with steps leading to heaven, you should roam.
Inhale then exhale after meditation makes you happy.
Playing zither and Buddist music, you will no more be angry.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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poem by Charles WOO
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Fishing in the Wei River
In waters still as a burnished mirror's face,
In the depths of Wei, carp and grayling swim.
Idly I come with my bamboo fishing-rod
And hang my hook by the banks of Wei stream.
A gentle wind blows on my fishing-gear
Softly shaking my ten feet of line.
Though my body sits waiting for fish to come,
My heart has wandered to the Land of Nothingness.
Long ago a white-headed man
Also fished at the same river's side;
A hooker of men, not a hooker of fish,
At seventy years, he caught Wen Wang.
But I, when I come to cast my hook in the stream,
Have no thought either of fish or men.
Lacking the skill to capture either prey,
I can only bask in the autumn water's light.
When I tire of this, my fishing also stops;
I go to my home and drink my cup of wine.
Steal
A fishing rod
Stretch into the fishing pond slightly
Sneaking the child
Look around furtively
He did not see
I was at the window
Seeing him
knocked on the window
Ran away the child
Leave a fishing rod
I saw a mouse
Run away like a rushing smoke
The fishing rod
Hung on the iron railing and swayed
Nor fish no fishing rod
The child
The first lesson in life
A cost of stealing
poem by Catherine Yen
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The Fisherman's Boat
I am tied to a pole
In me came and sat a fisherman with a big mole
He had a fishing rod and a net
With a bucket and bait so wet
He untied me and rowed me
Into the deep sea
And with rod, net and bait
He caught fish till late
He went home with a big fish
To prepare and eat a tasty dish
Tomorrow again he’ll come wearing his overcoat
To untie me, his little fishing boat.
poem by Niharika Singh
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5. Gone Fishing
Fishermen cast out their nets
We all in turn go fishing
Some will use a rod and line
While others fish by wishing
Some wish for so many things
Like numbers in a line
If the line is lacking some
Next time they say that’s fine
Others fish for gossip
So they can tell to others
No escape for anyone
Not even someone’s brothers
Fishing for a missing sock
The washer won’t release
Hiding out behind the drum
With fluff and bits of fleece
You see we all go fishing
Not always using bait
Just cast a line for what you want
Then settle down and wait
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Fishing On The Susquehanna In July
I have never been fishing on the Susquehanna
or on any river for that matter
to be perfectly honest.
Not in July or any month
have I had the pleasure -- if it is a pleasure --
of fishing on the Susquehanna.
I am more likely to be found
in a quiet room like this one --
a painting of a woman on the wall,
a bowl of tangerines on the table --
trying to manufacture the sensation
of fishing on the Susquehanna.
There is little doubt
that others have been fishing
on the Susquehanna,
rowing upstream in a wooden boat,
sliding the oars under the water
then raising them to drip in the light.
But the nearest I have ever come to
fishing on the Susquehanna
was one afternoon in a museum in Philadelphia,
when I balanced a little egg of time
in front of a painting
in which that river curled around a bend
under a blue cloud-ruffled sky,
dense trees along the banks,
and a fellow with a red bandana
sitting in a small, green
flat-bottom boat
holding the thin whip of a pole.
That is something I am unlikely
ever to do, I remember
saying to myself and the person next to me.
Then I blinked and moved on
to other American scenes
of haystacks, water whitening over rocks,
even one of a brown hare
who seemed so wired with alertness
I imagined him springing right out of the frame.
poem by Billy Collins
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Gone Fishing
Im gone fishing
I got me a line
Nothing I do is gonna make the difference
So Im taking the time
And you aint never gonna be happy
Anyhow, anyway
So Im gone fishing
And Im going today
Im gone fishing
Sounds crazy I know
I know nothing about fishing
But just watch me go
And when the time has come
I will look back and see
Peace on the shoreline
That could have been me
You can waste a whole lifetime
Trying to be
What you think is expected of you
But youll never be free
May as well go fishing
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My First Fishing Trip
Went with dad to Port Isabel to learn to fish,
‘Cause to catch a fish I told him that I did wish.
So to Purdy’s Court fishing pier,
We went with all our fishing-gear.
Yes, that fishing trip with dad I’ll always cherish!
There we were, him giving me casting instruction,
Then he baited my hook with a live crustacean,
I cast out high in the sky.
To catch a big fish to fry,
But instead, caught a sea gull - as consolation!
poem by Bobby Beddoe
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The Fishing Trip
The Fishing Trip
By
Ross Dix-Peek
Oh, How I remember those fishing trips with my Dad
Ah, They made me so very, very glad
Up at three in the morn
Long before the coming of the dawn
My father assembling all his fishing tackle
So very gleeful, a laugh and a cackle
“Have you got the bait boy, ready to go? ”
“Yes, Dad”, and away we would go, all in tow
In our dear old “Landie” the rugged road was ne’er a problem
As we traversed the winding dirt tracks, and some
Ah, the window down and the wind in my hair
The smell of fresh bait a waft in the air
Rugged Africa all about, myriad of sounds ringing out
My dear old Dad gaily whistling, as we headed south
A cigarette forever dangling from his smiling mouth
And all the while the great African sun beats down
And then to the river waters we would come
Excitement in the air and then some
Dad would sit and the waters study
A swig of Coca-Cola, and then we were ready
The fishing gear debouched
Us along the river bank crouched
Rods dangling in the silver stream
Waiting for our first catch, possibly bream
Ah, those days, those days were so fine
The scorching sun upon my spine
Sitting next to my beloved Dad
Ah, but those days be gone now, really quite sad!
Anyway, with our great bundle of fish in tow
We would finally onward to home go,
But now years later my dear old Dad is dead
Only those wonderful memories do remain in my head
So, if you with your Dad fishing do go
And the seeds of bonding do sow
Don’t the time wish away
For there will come a day
When your dear old Dad no longer is there,
And wasted time together is too awful a cross to bear!
poem by Ross DixPeek
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Goodbye Little Colombus
I'm going fishing
I got me a line
Nothin' I do's gonna' make the difference
So I'm taking the time
And you ain't never gonna' be happy
Anyhow, anyway
So I'm going fishing
And I'm going today
I'm going fishing
Sounds crazy I know
I know nothing about fishing
But just watch me go
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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