Wednesday, July 27, 2016

I Walk Alone


In a river valley of pines, I walk alone with staff in hand;
    Standing still for a moment,
    Clouds rise around my tattered robes.
Beneath a window looking out on bamboo, I stretch out
        with a book for my pillow.
    When I awake,
    The moon shines in on the cold, cracked floor.

                                                                ---Hung Ying-ming---

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