I’m a frightened monkey who’s reached the forest,
a tired horse unharnessed at last,
my mind a void to fill with new thoughts;
surroundings are old to me–I see them in dreams.
River gulls flock around, growing tamer;
old Tanka men drop in to visit.
South pond lotus spreads green coins;
north hill bamboo sends up purple shoots.
Bring-the-wine jug (what does he know about wine?)
inspires me with a fine idea.
The spring river had a beautiful poem
but, drunk, I dropped it somewhere far away.
translated by Burton Watson
Wow–I love the colors, green coins and purple shoots, as well as the rest.
I’m glad you liked it.
Could see, hear and feel this poem. Just lovely.
I’m glad you liked it.
Reblogged this on Leonard Durso.