In spring one sleeps, unaware of dawn,
Everywhere one hears tweeting birds;
In the night came the sound of wind and rain,
Who knows how many flowers fell?
Clear are the sounds of the guqin,
Silently I hear the bleak notes of Windswept Pines;
Even though I adore the tunes of antiquity,
Today they are not often played.
I see no one before me,
I see no one after me;
Thinking of the eternity of heaven and earth,
Alone and overwhelmed, my tears fall.
A thousand peaks: birds have vanquished,
Ten thousand paths: footprints have vanished;
On a solitary boat, in straw cloak and bamboo hat is an old man,
Alone, fishing the cold river snow.
Reading by the Juilliard Orchestra
Jeffrey Milarsky, conductor
Vivian Yau, soprano