Friday, October 11, 2013
Li Jinfa (1900-1976)
Sitting in Quietude
Winter has a message of its own
When the cold is like a ?ower-
Flowers have their fragrance, winter has its handful of memories.
The shadow of withered branch, like lean blue smoke,
Paints a stroke across the aftemoon window.
In the cold the sunlight grows pale and slanted.
It is just like this.
I sip the tea quietly
As if waiting for a guest to speak.