Returning to my Cottage
by Wang Wei
A bell in the distance
the sound floats
down the valley
one by one
woodcutters and fisherman
stop work, start home
the mountains move off
into darkness
alone, I turn home
as great clouds beckon
from the horizon
the wind stirs delicate vines
and water chestnut shoots
catkin fluff sails past
in the marsh to the east
new growth
vibrates with color
it’s sad
to walk in the house
and shut the door.
comments: