The few minutes of a Spring night
Are worth ten thousand pieces of gold.
The perfume of the flowers is so pure.
The shadows of the moon are so black.
In the pavilion the voices and flutes are so high and light.
In the garden a hammock rocks
In the night so deep, so profound.
[Su Dongpo, 'Spring Night', trans. by Kenneth Rexroth, from Zen Poems - Everyman's Library Pocket Poets]
No comments:
Post a Comment