Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Po Chu-i (772-846)
Autumn’s Cold
here’s my snowy crown
time’s tinted decrepitude
there’s the frost in the courtyard
autumn’s glittery breath
now I’m sick and just watching my wife
pick cure-alls
then I’m frozen waiting for the maid
to comb my hair
without the body
what use fame?
worldly things
I’ve put aside
tranquilly
I delve my heart
determined now
to learn from Empty Boats!
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