rejectomorph: (franz_marc_foxes)
rejectomorph ([personal profile] rejectomorph) wrote2006-01-22 04:12 am

Blowing

Wind and stars all night. I think the wind may have been the cause of the bad Internet connections. Anyway, it's way late now. Crows are squawking. There will be a clear dawn.



Sunday Verse


Starting Early from the Ch'u-ch'eng Inn


by Po Chu-i

Washed by the rain, dust and grime are laid;
Skirting the river, the road's course is flat.
The moon has risen on the last remnants of night;
The travellers' speed profits by the early cold.
In the great silence I whisper a faint song;
In the black darkness are bred sombre thoughts.
On the lotus-banks hovers a dewy breeze;
Through the rice-furrows trickles a singing stream.
At the noise of our bells a sleeping dog stirs;
At the sight of our torches a roosting bird wakes.
Dawn glimmers through the shapes of misty trees...
For ten miles, till day at last breaks.


-translated by Artur Waley