The Southern Room Over The River by Su Tung P’o

The room is prepared, the incense burned.
I close the shutters before I close my eyelids.
The patterns of the quilt repeat the waves of the river.
The gauze curtain is like a mist.
Then the dream comes to me and when I awake
I no longer know where I am.
I open the western window and watch the waves
Stretching on and on to the horizon.

translated by Kenneth Rexroth

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.