On the road to Ch’ang-an my horse goes slowly.
In the tall willows a confusion of cicada cries.
Slanting sun beyond the isles,
and winds of autumn on the plain. Only
where the heavens hang,
the view cut off.
The clouds go back, but
gone, they leave no track.
Where is the past?
Unused to indulgence, a little
wine’s no consolation.
It’s not
as it was
when I was young.
translated by J.P. Seaton
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Leonard Durso 
It’s the details that create the sense of enchantment. I find myself wondering whether the horse was also elderly.
It’s possible. It was going slowly, either because of age or the ground was difficult to traverse. I like to think it was his old, faithful horse.
it’s good to slow life down
That’s true enough but not always so easy to do.
Always much easier to just ride a slow horse than to slow life down.
True enough. One just needs to have enough space, like say a stable in the backyard, to keep one. Of course the world was simpler than and the journey was much longer which sort of appeals to me.
Excellent share Leonard.
I Truly like these verses of the second stanza!~
“The clouds go back, but
gone, they leave no track.
Where is the past?
Unused to indulgence, a little
wine’s no consolation”.
Best wishes!, Aquileana 🙂
I’m glad you liked it. And thanks for retweeting it.
Reblogged this on Leonard Durso.