Rich and full, all surging swells and white gulls in flight,
it flows springtime deep, its green a crystalline dye for robes.
Going south and coming back north, you grow older, older.
Late light lingers, farewell to a fishing boat bound for home.
translated by David Hinton
Fantastic! Thank you for sharing this.
You’re welcome, Emily.
Reblogged this on Leonard Durso.