I walk the streets to stray around As horns hang still, surrounding cars No people pass, no flowers found The clouds stay dark, the sun stays far No light, no sound—a man was hung These buildings block the burning sun We take in air with …
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This wind will weave The cry of howling thievesAs calming rain Unfolds on golden grain A thousand sheaves A million fallen leavesAnd still these plains Will fill with bamboo canes Copyright (c) 2016 by Frank Watson. Loosely translated from Lu Shiheng’s “花落.”
Read MoreVenice, California
I sit and watch the waters flowing by Before the flower gardens seen by all: A place like this you’re free to loosen ties And break the empty shell of sudden squalls. Back home the path unwinds a thousand links Of men and women full …
Read MoreTrue Learning
Beauty refined in words, You say, “I know it all,” And so your mind is blurred— But if it were, “I am so small,” The lengths you could be spurred. You carry coins with scorn, Enriched like grass in the wind; But all your jewels …
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