by tendo zenji
In reply to a Letter from Meng, Who’s
Gone Searching for His Old Village
After all that loss and ruin, I live at peace
far from Lo–yang summits, still unraveling
This question cloud-hidden peaks all pose.
I never leave these thorn-bramble depths—
north winds yellow leaves tumbling away,
southern streams old-age laments. Ten years
a guest of lakes and rivers — this mind all
lingering dusk grows boundless, boundless.
—Tu Fu (712-770)
translated by David Hinton in Mountain Home