It’s been so long since I headed for East Mountain—
how many times have the roses bloomed?
White clouds have scattered themselves away—
and this bright moon—whose house is it setting on?
translated by Burton Watson
It’s been so long since I headed for East Mountain—
how many times have the roses bloomed?
White clouds have scattered themselves away—
and this bright moon—whose house is it setting on?
translated by Burton Watson
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Un espacio para la reflexión de anécdotas y cosas que no son del mundo. Un lugar que no pretende ser polémico, pero si causar algún pensamiento en la noche…
This is beautiful.
I agree.
Very nice!
Glad you like it.
Beautiful…. and it reminds me of my life and how much I would like to hike up “east mountains” again….
Alas, I’m stuck here…
I think we all have an “East Mountain” in our minds that we long to return to.
Ah, nice. Now I don’t feel so alone when thinking of my East Mountain. 🙂
Fine Li Po. I read, he isn’t where he wants to be and hasn’t for years, and scattered, he “scattered” himself away. I wish I could consult with Mr. Li himself. This feels rather subjective of me.
He spent most of his life wandering in exile since he kept falling out of favor in court.
I’ll bet he could tell us whose house the moon is setting on.
I bet you are right.