One day in early April, an e-mail from abroad reached to this URL author.
The e-mail was about Li Bo's piece and his inquiry if anybody knew there was any English translation of the piece.  The person from abroad was kind enough to teach him that Ezra Pound's was the one.  They exchanged opinions and to his great surprise and pleasure, the sender of the e-mail was found to be a real poet.
His name is Mr. Kenneth Hope, Chicago.  It was as if Confucius saying: "is it not a joy to have friends come from afar?"  Yes, it truly is, and he was glad he had Li Bo on his page.
Mr. Hope composes his own works, reads poems of various languages including those in the Mediaeval Europe; as he has PhD in Mediaeval literature.  Li Bo is certainly very pleased to have an admirer like him.
Mr. Hope naturally has introduced his own English translations of Li Bo.  They are really impressive.  With his permission, you see a few of them with the original on the right.
 
"Saying goodbye to Men Hao-jan who is off to Kuang-ling"

Here he is, my good old friend!
He's at Yellow Crane Terrace on a western departure.
And--we're saying goodbye, goodbye.
He's in a cloud of third-month blossoms.
He's off downstream to Yang-chou.
That shadow there is his lonely sail.
Now there's nothing left of it.
All the blue is empty now.
All you can see is that long, long river.
It flows to the edge of the sky.
                              Kenneth Hope

The exquisite character of this piece, he believes, is that the counterpoint of bold colors dominates the whole scenery, while the poet emerges into cosmic eternity as the shadow of the lonely sail vanishes into the horizon.  Colored emptiness.  You can feel it from his translation.
Below is another example.  Only the loud rythmic sounds and voices take place of yellow, making pale pink and deep blue contrast even sharper.

"For Wang Lung"
 

Here is Li Bo setting sail in his boat.
Suddenly, a roar of noise from shore!
Here are songs, and the rhythmic stamping of feet!
This Peach Blossom Lake could be a thousand feet deep.
It is nowhere as deep as this friendship.
Wang Lung is saying goodbye.
                                          Kenneth Hope
 

Metrical system of the ancient Chinese poetry is so complicated, partly due to the phonetic value each character has, that it is rather beyond explanation here.  But a few words might be adequate concerning romanization of these characters.  The present day China adopts what is called Pinyin, an original way of romanization during these decades.  However, there is another way of romanization called Wadean, or sometimes Wade-Giles, invented in 19th century by an Englishman: Thomas Wade.  Being older, still many people use this latter among wide countries.  Mr. Hope here principally does so too.
They say the ancient Chinese poetry is becoming much like many other foreign poetry elsewhere.  Some say the matter is not very different in China too.

 
The next is the example of a true masterpiece.  Yuan Tan- ch'iu was the Taoist hermit Li Bo made a good friend and loved.
This long verse was read when Li Bo saw a painted screen of Wu-Shan (famous mountain ranges deep upstream of the Changjiang) on the wall of his hermitage.
Li Bo was referring to an ancient (more than a millennium even to Li Bo himself) myth when a king happened to be invited to sleep a night with a fairy maiden at Yang-tai in Wu-Shang.
The nest morning the maiden confessed to the king that she was the incarnation of morning glow in Wu-Shang and of rain cloud in the evening.  It took Professor Yuko Tanaka's help to write this commentary, with whose name Mr. Hope is acquainted.  His gratitude.

"On a painted screen"
 

Where did you find those twelve peaks of Wu-Shan?
Perhaps they flew into this screen from heaven?
Remarkable panels! Just look at those
Lonely pines whispering there in the wind!
See the palace of Yang-tai, suspended?
Oh, it's all just too sad, you must know this.
Here's the royal bed, all decked out in jewels.
Embroidered sheets and blankets, empty now,
That fairy maiden, frankly seductive,
Beautiful. She prowls up there for nothing.
On this screen an inch is a thousand li.
The craggy peaks gleam! Astounding stitchwork!
How green those trees are, and so far away!
And here, follow this bend in the river
Around: why, it's the narrows of Ching-men!
And those ships, they're sailing down Pa River.
These waters sing as they splash on the rocks,
And it's all among these measureless hills.
Those mists shine bright, grasses glisten with dew
In the valleys. How long ago was it
These flowers bloomed and smiled upon the sun?
See that man there on a river voyage?
He will by now have heard the monkeys' cry
For ages and ages. Whoever sees
This screen will be lost in eternity,
Will enter the sacred mountains of Sung,
Will dream in the mists with radiant clouds.
                                      Kenneth Hope
 

Now it's about time you read the Ballad of Ch'ang-an in full thanks to Mr. Hope.  "Hsing" in "Ch'ang-an hsing" means one of the ancient forms of the Chinese poetry.  Herhaps Li Bo had adopted it for a rustic touch.

"Ballad of Ch'ang-an"
 

That was when I combed my hair
To fall over my forehead.
I used to pull flower stalks by the gate.
You ambled up to me on your bamboo stilts.
We played with these little green plums.
We chased each other round the bed.
We lived together in the town of Ch'ang-an.
Then we were young and foolish together.
At fourteen I became your wife.
So shy I could not look up.
I hung my head in dark corners.
You called for me thousands of times.
I never answered.
Then I turned fifteen and got sensible.
I promised myself to you.
One day we would become
Dust and ashes together.
Always together.
We belonged to each other.
Steadfast by the pillar, that's us!
So why do I waste time here on the tower?
Why do I wait for my husband's return?
When I turned sixteen you set out on your journey.
In the steep gorges of Ch'u Tang
Churning rapids keep the traveller back.
They will not be crossed in the fifth month.
Monkeys cry their mournful cries in far-off heights.
I stare out past the gate where you walked away.
Slowly green moss piles up.
This deep, green moss may not be swept away.
By now leaves are falling in the autumn wind.
In the eighth month yellow butterflies appear.
Together in twos they flicker
By flowers in the west garden.
These things touch the deepest core of my heart.
I sit alone while my youth turns to age.
One day you will return.
You'll come by way of Three Gorges.
Please send me a letter to let me know when.
I will come out to meet you.
The long road does not scare me.
I'll go as far as Chang-feng Sha.
                                    Kenneth Hope

As Mr. Hope has told, there is another English translation by Ezra Pound.  This piece being among the most popular of Li Bo, there could be a few more.  He himself feels Ezra Pound's, although a good one of course, tends a little bit too Confucian.  Frankly, he believes Li Bo had amplitude of Taoism, his time considered.  This is why he loves the poet.  Even in this piece, you find an allusion to Chuang-tzu.

 (August 27, 1997)