March 04th, 2024

In quietness I close my firewood gate.
A whitish immensity faces the dropping sun.
In every pine are nesting cranes
Yet no one comes by my cottage.
Tender bamboos have new blooms on them.
Red lotuses have shed old clothes.
On the bay, lamps and bonfires shine.
Water chestnut pickers are coming home.

Wang Wei (699-759)