| #3. My cracked wooden bowl |
| Published: 2024-06-10 [Mon] 12:36, by |
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This treasure was discovered in a bamboo thicket -- I washed the bowl in a spring and then mended it. After morning meditation, I take my gruel in it; At night, it serves me soup or rice. Cracked, worn, weather-beaten, and misshapen But still of noble stock! Midsummer -- I walk about with my staff. Old farmers spot me And call me over for a drink. We sit in the fields using leaves for plates. Pleasantly drunk and so happy I drift off peacefully Sprawled out on a paddy bank. How can I possibly sleep This moonlit evening? Come, my friends, Let's sing and dance All night long. Stretched out, Tipsy, Under the vast sky: Splendid dreams Beneath the cherry blossoms. Wild roses, Plucked from fields Full of croaking frogs: Float them in your wine And enjoy every minute! |
| #1. Poetry thread |
| Published: 2024-06-10 [Mon] 12:33, by |
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