The wanderer was in love with the spring of the year
And the spring in love with the wanderer.
Languid sunbeams in the morning draped their splendor,
Gentle dew at dawn lay frozen by the ford.
Seasonal bird songs lilted through the new=grown leaves
While scented airs were stirring in the early duckweed.
Then one morning found me far from my old home,
Ten thousand li had come between me and that dawn.
translated by Richard B. Mather