The old fisherman spends his night beneath the western cliffs.
At dawn, he boils Hsiang’s waters, burns bamboo of Ch’u.
When the mist’s burned off, and the sun’s come out, he’s gone.
The slap of the oars: the mountain waters green.
Turn and look, at heaven’s edge, he’s moving with the flow.
Above the cliffs, the aimless clouds go too.
translated by J.P. Seaton
Being Present for the Moment
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Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
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Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
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Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
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Leonard Durso 
beautiful imagery
Glad you liked it.The image of the lone fisherman is used quite often in Asian poetry.
and it resonates with me because I’m a loner at heart…
Reblogged this on Leonard Durso.