They say you’re staying in a mountain temple,
In Hang-chou–or is it Yüeh-chou?
In the wind and grime of war, how long since we parted!
At Chiang-han, bright autumns waste away.
While my shadow rests by monkey-loud trees,
my soul whirls off to where shell-born towers rise.
Next year on floods of spring I’ll go downriver,
to the white clouds at the end of the east I’ll look for you!
translated by Burton Watson
Whereabouts of a Wanderer's Soul
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So beautiful… and sad.
I was just in the right mood to read this; the blog I posted a little while ago has a similar topic.
Glad you like it.
Just read your post and see why this touches you. Yours beautifully written.
Thank you! It is my story…
In many ways, it is a story we can all relate to.
love the hope in this…
Yes.