While Traveling byChia Tao

With so much on my mind,
it’s hard to express myself in letters.

How long has it been since I left home?
Old friends are no longer young.

Frosted leaves fall into empty bird nests;
river fireflies weave through open windows.

I stop at a forest monk’s,
and spend the night in “quiet sitting.”

translated by Mike O’Connor

10 thoughts on “While Traveling byChia Tao

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