from Letting the Writing Brush Go Where It Will, Three Poems: Poem 2 by Su Tung-p’o

Old men scramble to get a look at my pointy black headcloth,
doubtless because it’s proof I once held a government post.
On the old river road, where it branches three ways,
I stand alone in slanting sunlight, while others now and then go by.

translated by Burton Watson

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