a whole life of saying, West Lake’s good.
now I come, in my official carriage
wealth and honor
. . . . . . . .floating clouds
look up, look down, the rushing years
twenty.
I come back, old white head, ancient crane
the people of the city and the suburbs
all strange, all new
who’d recognize the old coot, their master, on another day?
translated by Jerome P. Seaton
This is gorgeous and stunning! Whimsical and yet you can feel the currents run deep in it. Wow!
Yes, he’s a great poet. Still speaking to us 1100 years later. I’m glad you liked it.