A Mountain Walk by Tu Mu

Climbing far into the cold mountains, the rocky path steepens
and houses grow rare. Up here where white clouds are born,

I stop to sit for a while, savoring maple forests in late light,
frost-glazed leaves lit reds deeper than any spring blossoms.

translated by David Hinton

Leave a comment

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