Monday, September 29, 2014

The Song of a Taoist Monk

Mt scrolls are filled with the poems of immortals
my jugs overflow with the wine of sages
out working I love to watch buffalo calves
at home I don't go far
and when cold dew soaks my thatched eaves
and moonlight lights my crockery sill
I sip a couple of cups
and hum a verse or two

---Cold Mountain---

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