Monday, January 18, 2010

Tu Fu

Oxen and sheep were brought back down
Long ago, and bramble gates closed. Over
Mountains and rivers, far from my old garden,
A windswept moon rises into clear night.
Springs trickle down dark cliffs, and autumn
Dew fills ridge line grasses. My hair seems
Whiter in lamplight. the flame flickers
Good fortune over and over - and for what?

No comments: