May 12th, 2023
Wang Wei (699-759)
After fresh rain on the empty mountain
Comes evening and the cold of autumn.
The full moon burns through the pines.
A brook transparent over the stones.
Bamboo trees crackle as washerwomen go home
And lotus flowers sway as a fisherman’s
Boat slips downriver.
Though the fresh smell of grass is gone,
A prince is happy in these hills