You write out my poems, filling monastery walls,
and I crowd these door-screens here with yours.
Old friend, we never know where it is we’ll meet–
we two duckweed leaves adrift on such vast seas.
Po Chü-i
trans. D. Hinton
You write out my poems, filling monastery walls,
and I crowd these door-screens here with yours.
Old friend, we never know where it is we’ll meet–
we two duckweed leaves adrift on such vast seas.
Po Chü-i
trans. D. Hinton