sunday poesy

by layman k

Mountain Living: Twenty Poems
by Han-shan Te-ch’ing


Down beneath the pines,
a few thatched huts.
Before my eyes,
everywhere blue mountains,
and where the sun and moon
restless rise and fall,
this old white cloud
idly comes and goes.

(translated by James Cryer in The Shambhala Anthology of Chinese Poetry edited by J.P Seaton)