I live in town without all that racket
horses and carts stir up, and you wonder
How that could be. Wherever the mind
dwells apart is itself a distant place.
Picking chrysanthemums at my east fence,
far off, I see South Mountain: mountain
air lovely at dusk, birds in flight
returning home. All this means something
something absolute. Whenever I start
explaining it, I’ve forgotten the words.
Colors infusing autumn chrysanthemums
exquisite, I pick dew-bathed petals,
float them on that forget-your-cares
stuff. Even my passion for living apart
Soon grows distant. I’m alone, but after
that first cup, the wine jar pours itself.
Everything at rest, dusk: a bird calls,
returning to its forest home. Chanting,
I settle into my breath. Somehow, on this
east veranda, I’ve found my life again.
~T’ao Ch’ien, No. #3 and #4 from Drinking Wine in The Selected Poems of T’ao Ch’ien
Notes:
- Sources – Living Sunset by Bryan Jones (via Your Eyes Blaze Out). Poem: Thank you Make Believe Boutique
- Related Posts: It’s been a long day
