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Moon, Rain, Riverbank
Rain roared through, now
the autumn night is clear.
The water wears a patina of gold
and carries a bright jade star.
Heavenly River runs clear and pure,
as gently as before.
Sunset buries the mountains in shadow.
A mirror floats in the deep green void,
its light reflecting the cold, wet dusk,
dew glistening,
freezing on the flowers.
Sam Hamill
From Admiring, Alone, the Flowers on the Riverbank
It’s not I love these flowers more than life,
Only, when they’re gone, life too may flee.
Full branch; so easily its petals fall.
Take counsel, tender buds, to part more carefully.
Francois Cheng
Written on the Wall at Chang’s Hermitage
It is Spring in the mountains.
I come alone seeking you.
The sound of chopping wood echoes
Between the silent peaks.
The streams are still icy.
There is snow on the trail.
At sunset I reach your grove
In the stony mountain pass.
You want nothing, although at night
You can see the aura of gold
And silver ore all around you.
You have learned to be gentle
As the mountain deer you have tamed.
The way back forgotten, hidden
Away, I become like you,
An empty boat, floating, adrift.
Kenneth Rexroth
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