May 01st, 2018
Hsieh Ling-yun (385-433)
I spent the morning digging out orchids,
afraid frost would soon leave them dead,
passed the night among fringes of cloud,
savoring a moon up beyond all this rock,
chortles telling me birds have settled in,
falling leaves giving away to fresh winds.
unearthly echoes all crystalline distance,
though there's no one to share wonders
or the joys in wine's fragrant clarities.
We'll never meet again now. I sit beside
a stream, sun drying my hair for nothing.