I’ve moved here to the Immortal’s place:
Flowers everywhere we didn’t plant before.
The courtyard trees are bent like clothes-horses.
At the feast, winecups float in a new spring.
Dark balcony. Path through deep bamboo.
Long summer dress. Confusion of books.
I sing in the moonlight and ride a painted boat,
Trusting the wind to blow me home again.
translated by Geoffrey Waters