When grasses in Yen ripple like emerald silk
and lush mulberry branches sag in Ch’in,
he’ll dream of coming home one day,
and I’ll still be waiting, brokenhearted.
We’re strangers, spring wind and I. Why is it
here, slipping inside my gauze bed-curtains?
translated by David Hinton
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
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.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
Erm, what am I doing with my life?
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World
Leonard Durso 
Beautiful poem! Thanks!
Glad you liked it.
I did!
such longing…
Yes, and this is written really from a woman’s point of view, probably his wife since he was always in exile far from home.
Love the imagery of “emerald silk! 🙂 ❤
Glad you do, Natalie.
😊❤️
Lovely feelings.
Glad you think so.
Thanks n welcome.dear.